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diff --git a/old/2073-h.htm.2021-01-27 b/old/2073-h.htm.2021-01-27 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..795011c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/2073-h.htm.2021-01-27 @@ -0,0 +1,10328 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Valet's Tragedy and Other Studies, by Andrew Lang + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +Project Gutenberg's The Valet's Tragedy and Other Stories, by Andrew Lang + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Valet's Tragedy and Other Stories + +Author: Andrew Lang + +Release Date: February, 2000 [EBook #2073] +Last Updated: December 17, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VALET'S TRAGEDY *** + + + + +Produced by Les Bowler and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE VALET’S TRAGEDY AND OTHER STUDIES + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Andrew Lang + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + TO THE MARQUIS D’EGUILLES <br />‘FOR THE LOVE OF THE MAID AND OF CHIVALRY’ + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> I. THE VALET’S TRAGEDY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> II. THE VALET’S MASTER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> III. THE MYSTERY OF SIR EDMUND BERRY GODFREY + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> IV. THE FALSE JEANNE D’ARC. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> V. JUNIUS AND LORD LYTTELTON’S GHOST </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VI. THE MYSTERY OF AMY ROBSART </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> VII. THE VOICES OF JEANNE D’ARC </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> VIII. THE MYSTERY OF JAMES DE LA CLOCHE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> IX. THE TRUTH ABOUT ‘FISHER’S GHOST’ </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> X. THE MYSTERY OF LORD BATEMAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XI. THE QUEEN’S MARIE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XII. THE SHAKESPEARE-BACON IMBROGLIO </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PREFACE + </h2> + <p> + These studies in secret history follow no chronological order. The affair + of James de la Cloche only attracted the author’s attention after most of + the volume was in print. But any reader curious in the veiled intrigues of + the Restoration will probably find it convenient to peruse ‘The Mystery of + James de la Cloche’ after the essay on ‘The Valet’s Master,’ as the + puzzling adventures of de la Cloche occurred in the years (1668-1669), + when the Valet was consigned to lifelong captivity, and the Master was + broken on the wheel. What would have been done to ‘Giacopo Stuardo’ had he + been a subject of Louis XIV., ‘’tis better only guessing.’ But his fate, + whoever he may have been, lay in the hands of Lord Ailesbury’s ‘good + King,’ Charles II., and so he had a good deliverance. + </p> + <p> + The author is well aware that whosoever discusses historical mysteries + pleases the public best by being quite sure, and offering a definite and + certain solution. Unluckily Science forbids, and conscience is on the same + side. We verily do not know how the false Pucelle arrived at her success + with the family of the true Maid; we do not know, or pretend to know, who + killed Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey; or how Amy Robsart came by her death; or + why the Valet was so important a prisoner. It is only possible to restate + the cases, and remove, if we may, the errors and confusions which beset + the problems. Such a tiny point as the year of Amy Robsart’s marriage is + stated variously by our historians. To ascertain the truth gave the author + half a day’s work, and, at last, he would have voted for the wrong year, + had he not been aided by the superior acuteness of his friend, Mr. Hay + Fleming. He feels morally certain that, in trying to set historians right + about Amy Robsart, he must have committed some conspicuous blunders; these + always attend such enterprises of rectification. + </p> + <p> + With regard to Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey, Mr. A. W. Crawley-Boevey points + out to me that in an unpublished letter of Mr. Alexander Herbert Phaire in + 1743-44 (Addit. MSS. British Museum 4291, fol. 150) Godfrey is spoken of + in connection with his friend Valentine Greatrakes, the ‘miraculous + Conformist,’ or ‘Irish Stroker,’ of the Restoration. ‘It is a pity,’ Mr. + Phaire remarks, ‘that Sir Edmund’s letters, to the number of 104, are not + in somebody’s hands that would oblige the world by publishing them. They + contain many remarkable things, and the best and truest secret history in + King Charles II.‘s reign.’ Where are these letters now? Mr. Phaire does + not say to whom they were addressed, perhaps to Greatrakes, who named his + second son after Sir Edmund, or to Colonel Phaire, the Regicide. This Mr. + Phaire of 1744 was of Colonel Phaire’s family. It does not seem quite + certain whether Le Fevre, or Lee Phaire, was the real name of the + so-called Jesuit whom Bedloe accused of the murder of Sir Edmund. + </p> + <p> + Of the studies here presented, ‘The Valet’s Master,’ ‘The Mystery of Sir + Edmund Berry Godfrey,’ ‘The False Jeanne d’Arc,’ ‘The Mystery of Amy + Robsart,’ and ‘The Mystery of James de la Cloche,’ are now published for + the first time. Part of ‘The Voices of Jeanne d’Arc,’ is from a paper by + the author in ‘The Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research.’ + ‘The Valet’s Tragedy’ is mainly from an article in ‘The Monthly Review,’ + revised, corrected, and augmented. ‘The Queen’s Marie’ is a recast of a + paper in ‘Blackwood’s Magazine’; ‘The Truth about “Fisher’s Ghost,”’ and + ‘Junius and Lord Lyttelton’s Ghost’ are reprinted, with little change, + from the same periodical. ‘The Mystery of Lord Bateman’ is a recast of an + article in ‘The Cornhill Magazine.’ The earlier part of the essay on + Shakespeare and Bacon appeared in ‘The Quarterly Review.’ The author is + obliged to the courtesy of the proprietors and editors of these serials + for permission to use his essays again, with revision and additions.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Essays by the author on ‘The False Pucelle’ and on ‘Sir Edmund +Berry Godfrey’ have appeared in The Nineteenth Century (1895) and in The +Cornhill Magazine, but these are not the papers here presented. +</pre> + <p> + The author is deeply indebted to the generous assistance of Father Gerard + and Father Pollen, S.J.; and, for making transcripts of unpublished + documents, to Miss E. M. Thompson and Miss Violet Simpson. + </p> + <p> + Since passing the volume for the press the author has received from Mr. + Austin West, at Rome, a summary of Armanni’s letter about Giacopo Stuardo. + He is led thereby to the conclusion that Giacopo was identical with the + eldest son of Charles II.—James de la Cloche—but conceives + that, at the end of his life, James was insane, or at least was a + ‘megalomaniac,’ or was not author of his own Will. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + I. THE VALET’S TRAGEDY + </h2> + <p> + 1. THE LEGEND OF THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK + </p> + <p> + The Mystery of the Man in the Iron Mask is, despite a pleasant saying of + Lord Beaconsfield’s, one of the most fascinating in history. By a curious + coincidence the wildest legend on the subject, and the correct explanation + of the problem, were offered to the world in the same year, 1801. + According to this form of the legend, the Man in the Iron Mask was the + genuine Louis XIV., deprived of his rights in favour of a child of Anne of + Austria and of Mazarin. Immured in the Isles Sainte-Marguerite, in the bay + of Cannes (where you are shown his cell, looking north to the sunny town), + he married, and begot a son. That son was carried to Corsica, was named de + Buona Parte, and was the ancestor of Napoleon. The Emperor was thus the + legitimate representative of the House of Bourbon. + </p> + <p> + This legend was circulated in 1801, and is referred to in a proclamation + of the Royalists of La Vendee. In the same year, 1801, Roux Fazaillac, a + Citoyen and a revolutionary legislator, published a work in which he + asserted that the Man in the Iron Mask (as known in rumour) was not one + man, but a myth, in which the actual facts concerning at least two men + were blended. It is certain that Roux Fazaillac was right; or that, if he + was wrong, the Man in the Iron Mask was an obscure valet, of French birth, + residing in England, whose real name was Martin. + </p> + <p> + Before we enter on the topic of this poor menial’s tragic history, it may + be as well to trace the progress of the romantic legend, as it blossomed + after the death of the Man, whose Mask was not of iron, but of black + velvet. Later we shall show how the legend struck root and flowered, from + the moment when the poor valet, Martin (by his prison pseudonym ‘Eustache + Dauger’), was immured in the French fortress of Pignerol, in Piedmont + (August 1669). + </p> + <p> + The Man, IN CONNECTION WITH THE MASK, is first known to us from a kind of + notebook kept by du Junca, Lieutenant of the Bastille. On September 18, + 1698, he records the arrival of the new Governor of the Bastille, M. de + Saint-Mars, bringing with him, from his last place, the Isles + Sainte-Marguerite, in the bay of Cannes, ‘an old prisoner whom he had at + Pignerol. He keeps the prisoner always masked, his name is not spoken... + and I have put him, alone, in the third chamber of the Bertaudiere tower, + having furnished it some days before with everything, by order of M. de + Saint-Mars. The prisoner is to be served and cared for by M. de Rosarges,’ + the officer next in command under Saint-Mars.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Funck-Brentano. Legendes et Archives de la Bastille, pp. 86, 87, +Paris, 1898, p. 277, a facsimile of this entry. +</pre> + <p> + The prisoner’s death is entered by du Junca on November 19, 1703. To that + entry we return later. + </p> + <p> + The existence of this prisoner was known and excited curiosity. On October + 15, 1711, the Princess Palatine wrote about the case to the Electress + Sophia of Hanover, ‘A man lived for long years in the Bastille, masked, + and masked he died there. Two musketeers were by his side to shoot him if + ever he unmasked. He ate and slept in his mask. There must, doubtless, + have been some good reason for this, as otherwise he was very well + treated, well lodged, and had everything given to him that he wanted. He + took the Communion masked; was very devout, and read perpetually.’ + </p> + <p> + On October 22, 1711, the Princess writes that the Mask was an English + nobleman, mixed up in the plot of the Duke of Berwick against William III.—Fenwick’s + affair is meant. He was imprisoned and masked that the Dutch usurper might + never know what had become of him.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Op. cit. 98, note 1. +</pre> + <p> + The legend was now afloat in society. The sub-commandant of the Bastille + from 1749 to 1787, Chevalier, declared, obviously on the evidence of + tradition, that all the Mask’s furniture and clothes were destroyed at his + death, lest they might yield a clue to his identity. Louis XV. is said to + have told Madame de Pompadour that the Mask was ‘the minister of an + Italian prince.’ Louis XVI. told Marie Antoinette (according to Madame de + Campan) that the Mask was a Mantuan intriguer, the same person as Louis + XV. indicated. Perhaps he was, it is one of two possible alternatives. + Voltaire, in the first edition of his ‘Siecle de Louis XIV.,’ merely spoke + of a young, handsome, masked prisoner, treated with the highest respect by + Louvois, the Minister of Louis XIV. At last, in ‘Questions sur + l’Encyclopedie’ (second edition), Voltaire averred that the Mask was the + son of Anne of Austria and Mazarin, an elder brother of Louis XIV. Changes + were rung on this note: the Mask was the actual King, Louis XIV. was a + bastard. Others held that he was James, Duke of Monmouth—or Moliere! + In 1770 Heiss identified him with Mattioli, the Mantuan intriguer, and + especially after the appearance of the book by Roux Fazaillac, in 1801, + that was the generally accepted opinion. + </p> + <p> + It MAY be true, in part. Mattioli MAY have been the prisoner who died in + the Bastille in November 1703, but the legend of the Mask’s prison life + undeniably arose out of the adventure of our valet, Martin or Eustache + Dauger. + </p> + <p> + 2. THE VALET’S HISTORY + </p> + <p> + After reading the arguments of the advocates of Mattioli, I could not but + perceive that, whatever captive died, masked, at the Bastille in 1703, the + valet Dauger was the real source of most of the legends about the Man in + the Iron Mask. A study of M. Lair’s book ‘Nicholas Foucquet’ (1890) + confirmed this opinion. I therefore pushed the inquiry into a source + neglected by the French historians, namely, the correspondence of the + English ambassadors, agents, and statesmen for the years 1668, 1669.* One + result is to confirm a wild theory of my own to the effect that the Man in + the Iron Mask (if Dauger were he) may have been as great a mystery to + himself as to historical inquirers. He may not have known WHAT he was + imprisoned for doing! More important is the probable conclusion that the + long and mysterious captivity of Eustache Dauger, and of another perfectly + harmless valet and victim, was the mere automatic result of the ‘red tape’ + of the old French absolute monarchy. These wretches were caught in the + toils of the system, and suffered to no purpose, for no crime. The two + men, at least Dauger, were apparently mere supernumeraries in the obscure + intrigue of a conspirator known as Roux de Marsilly. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *The papers are in the Record Office; for the contents see the +following essay, ‘The Valet’s Master.’ +</pre> + <p> + This truly abominable tragedy of Roux de Marsilly is ‘another story,’ + narrated in the following essay. It must suffice here to say that, in + 1669, while Charles II. was negotiating the famous, or infamous, secret + treaty with Louis XIV.—the treaty of alliance against Holland, and + in favour of the restoration of Roman Catholicism in England—Roux de + Marsilly, a French Huguenot, was dealing with Arlington and others, in + favour of a Protestant league against France. + </p> + <p> + When he started from England for Switzerland in February 1669, Marsilly + left in London a valet, called by him ‘Martin,’ who had quitted his + service and was living with his own family. This man is the ‘Eustache + Dauger’ of our mystery. The name is his prison pseudonym, as ‘Lestang’ was + that of Mattioli. The French Government was anxious to lay hands on him, + for he had certainly, as the letters of Marsilly prove, come and gone + freely between that conspirator and his English employers. How much Dauger + knew, what amount of mischief he could effect, was uncertain. Much or + little, it was a matter which, strange to say, caused the greatest anxiety + to Louis XIV. and to his Ministers for very many years. Probably long + before Dauger died (the date is unknown, but it was more than twenty-five + years after Marsilly’s execution), his secret, if secret he possessed, had + ceased to be of importance. But he was now in the toils of the French red + tape, the system of secrecy which rarely released its victim. He was + guarded, we shall see, with such unheard-of rigour, that popular fancy at + once took him for some great, perhaps royal, personage. + </p> + <p> + Marsilly was publicly tortured to death in Paris on June 22, 1669. By July + 19 his ex-valet, Dauger, had entered on his mysterious term of captivity. + How the French got possession of him, whether he yielded to cajolery, or + was betrayed by Charles II., is uncertain. The French ambassador at St. + James’s, Colbert (brother of the celebrated Minister), writes thus to M. + de Lyonne, in Paris, on July 1, 1669:* ‘Monsieur Joly has spoken to the + man Martin’ (Dauger), ‘and has really persuaded him that, by going to + France and telling all that he knows against Roux, he will play the part + of a lad of honour and a good subject.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Transcripts from Paris MSS. Vol. xxxiii., Record Office. +</pre> + <p> + But Martin, after all, was NOT persuaded! + </p> + <p> + Martin replied to Joly that HE KNEW NOTHING AT ALL, and that, once in + France, people would think he was well acquainted with the traffickings of + Roux, ‘AND SO HE WOULD BE KEPT IN PRISON TO MAKE HIM DIVULGE WHAT HE DID + NOT KNOW.’ The possible Man in the Iron Mask did not know his own secret! + But, later in the conversation, Martin foolishly admitted that he knew a + great deal; perhaps he did this out of mere fatal vanity. Cross to France, + however, he would not, even when offered a safe-conduct and promise of + reward. Colbert therefore proposes to ask Charles to surrender the valet, + and probably Charles descended to the meanness. By July 19, at all events, + Louvois, the War Minister of Louis XIV., was bidding Saint-Mars, at + Pignerol in Piedmont, expect from Dunkirk a prisoner of the very highest + importance—a valet! This valet, now called ‘Eustache Dauger,’ can + only have been Marsilly’s valet, Martin, who, by one means or another, had + been brought from England to Dunkirk. It is hardly conceivable, at least, + that when a valet, in England, is ‘wanted’ by the French police on July 1, + for political reasons, and when by July 19 they have caught a valet of + extreme political importance, the two valets should be two different men. + Martin must be Dauger. + </p> + <p> + Here, then, by July 19, 1669, we find our unhappy serving-man in the + toils. Why was he to be handled with such mysterious rigour? It is true + that State prisoners of very little account were kept with great secrecy. + But it cannot well be argued that they were all treated with the + extraordinary precautions which, in the case of Dauger, were not relaxed + for twenty-five or thirty years. The King says, according to Louvois, that + the safe keeping of Dauger is ‘of the last importance to his service.’ He + must have intercourse with nobody. His windows must be where nobody can + pass; several bolted doors must cut him off from the sound of human + voices. Saint-Mars himself, the commandant, must feed the valet daily. + ‘YOU MUST NEVER, UNDER ANY PRETENCE, LISTEN TO WHAT HE MAY WISH TO TELL + YOU. YOU MUST THREATEN HIM WITH DEATH IF HE SPEAKS ONE WORD EXCEPT ABOUT + HIS ACTUAL NEEDS. He is only a valet, and does not need much furniture.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *The letters are printed by Roux Fazaillac, Jung, Lair, and others. +</pre> + <p> + Saint-Mars replied that, in presence of M. de Vauroy, the chief officer of + Dunkirk (who carried Dauger thence to Pignerol), he had threatened to run + Dauger through the body if he ever dared to speak, even to him, + Saint-Mars. He has mentioned this prisoner, he says, to no mortal. People + believe that Dauger is a Marshal of France, so strange and unusual are the + precautions taken for his security. + </p> + <p> + A Marshal of France! The legend has begun. At this time (1669) Saint-Mars + had in charge Fouquet, the great fallen Minister, the richest and most + dangerous subject of Louis XIV. By-and-by he also held Lauzun, the + adventurous wooer of la Grande Mademoiselle. But it was not they, it was + the valet, Dauger, who caused ‘sensation.’ + </p> + <p> + On February 20,1672, Saint-Mars, for the sake of economy wished to use + Dauger as valet to Lauzun. This proves that Saint-Mars did not, after all, + see the necessity of secluding Dauger, or thought the King’s fears + groundless. In the opinion of Saint-Mars, Dauger did not want to be + released, ‘would never ask to be set free.’ Then why was he so anxiously + guarded? Louvois refused to let Dauger be put with Lauzun as valet. In + 1675, however, he allowed Dauger to act as valet to Fouquet, but with + Lauzun, said Louvois, Dauger must have no intercourse. Fouquet had then + another prisoner valet, La Riviere. This man had apparently been accused + of no crime. He was of a melancholy character, and a dropsical habit of + body: Fouquet had amused himself by doctoring him and teaching him to + read. + </p> + <p> + In the month of December 1678, Saint-Mars, the commandant of the prison, + brought to Fouquet a sealed letter from Louvois, the seal unbroken. His + own reply was also to be sealed, and not to be seen by Saint-Mars. Louvois + wrote that the King wished to know one thing, before giving Fouquet ampler + liberty. Had his valet, Eustache Dauger, told his other valet, La Riviere, + what he had done before coming to Pignerol? (de ce a quoi il a ete employe + auparavant que d’etre a Pignerol). ‘His Majesty bids me ask you [Fouquet] + this question, and expects that you will answer without considering + anything but the truth, that he may know what measures to take,’ these + depending on whether Dauger has, or has not, told La Riviere the story of + his past life.* Moreover, Lauzun was never, said Louvois, to be allowed to + enter Fouquet’s room when Dauger was present. The humorous point is that, + thanks to a hole dug in the wall between his room and Fouquet’s, Lauzun + saw Dauger whenever he pleased. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Lair, Nicholas Foucquet, ii. pp. 463, 464. +</pre> + <p> + From the letter of Louvois to Fouquet, about Dauger (December 23, 1678), + it is plain that Louis XIV. had no more pressing anxiety, nine years after + Dauger’s arrest, than to conceal WHAT IT WAS THAT DAUGER HAD DONE. It is + apparent that Saint-Mars himself either was unacquainted with this secret, + or was supposed by Louvois and the King to be unaware of it. He had been + ordered never to allow Dauger to tell him: he was not allowed to see the + letters on the subject between Louvois and Fouquet. We still do not know, + and never shall know, whether Dauger himself knew his own secret, or + whether (as he had anticipated) he was locked up for not divulging what he + did not know. + </p> + <p> + The answer of Fouquet to Louvois must have satisfied Louis that Dauger had + not imparted his secret to the other valet, La Riviere, for Fouquet was + now allowed a great deal of liberty. In 1679, he might see his family, the + officers of the garrison, and Lauzun—it being provided that Lauzun + and Dauger should never meet. In March 1680, Fouquet died, and henceforth + the two valets were most rigorously guarded; Dauger, because he was + supposed to know something; La Riviere, because Dauger might have imparted + the real or fancied secret to him. We shall return to these poor + serving-men, but here it is necessary to state that, ten months before the + death of their master, Fouquet, an important new captive had been brought + to the prison of Pignerol. + </p> + <p> + This captive was the other candidate for the honours of the Mask, Count + Mattioli, the secretary of the Duke of Mantua. He was kidnapped on Italian + soil on May 2, 1679, and hurried to the mountain fortress of Pignerol, + then on French ground. His offence was the betraying of the secret + negotiations for the cession of the town and fortress of Casal, by the + Duke of Mantua, to Louis XIV. The disappearance of Mattioli was, of + course, known to the world. The cause of his enlevement, and the place of + his captivity, Pignerol, were matters of newspaper comment at least as + early as 1687. Still earlier, in 1682, the story of Mattioli’s arrest and + seclusion in Pignerol had been published in a work named ‘La Prudenza + Trionfante di Casale.‘* There was thus no mystery, at the time, about + Mattioli; his crime and punishment were perfectly well known to students + of politics. He has been regarded as the mysterious Man in the Iron Mask, + but, for years after his arrest, he was the least mysterious of State + prisoners. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Brentano, op. cit. p. 117. +</pre> + <p> + Here, then, is Mattioli in Pignerol in May 1679. While Fouquet then + enjoyed relative freedom, while Lauzun schemed escapes or made insulting + love to Mademoiselle Fouquet, Mattioli lived on the bread and water of + affliction. He was threatened with torture to make him deliver up some + papers compromising to Louis XIV. It was expressly commanded that he + should have nothing beyond the barest necessaries of life. He was to be + kept dans la dure prison. In brief, he was used no better than the meanest + of prisoners. The awful life of isolation, without employment, without + books, without writing materials, without sight or sound of man save when + Saint-Mars or his lieutenant brought food for the day, drove captives mad. + </p> + <p> + In January 1680 two prisoners, a monk* and one Dubreuil, had become + insane. By February 14, 1680, Mattioli was daily conversing with God and + his angels. ‘I believe his brain is turned,’ says Saint-Mars. In March + 1680, as we saw, Fouquet died. The prisoners, not counting Lauzun + (released soon after), were now five: (1) Mattioli (mad); (2) Dubreuil + (mad); (3) The monk (mad); (4) Dauger, and (5) La Riviere. These two, + being employed as valets, kept their wits. On the death of Fouquet, + Louvois wrote to Saint-Mars about the two valets. Lauzun must be made to + believe that they had been set at liberty, but, in fact, they must be most + carefully guarded IN A SINGLE CHAMBER. They were shut up in one of the + dungeons of the ‘Tour d’en bas.’ Dauger had recently done something as to + which Louvois writes: ‘Let me know how Dauger can possibly have done what + you tell me, and how he got the necessary drugs, as I cannot suppose that + you supplied him with them’ (July 10, 1680).** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *A monk, who may have been this monk, appears in the following +essay. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + **Lair, Nicholas Foucquet, ii. pp. 476, 477. +</pre> + <p> + Here, then, by July 1680, are the two valets locked in one dungeon of the + ‘Tour d’en bas.’ By September Saint-Mars had placed Mattioli, with the mad + monk, in another chamber of the same tower. He writes: ‘Mattioli is almost + as mad as the monk,’ who arose from bed and preached naked. Mattioli + behaved so rudely and violently that the lieutenant of Saint-Mars had to + show him a whip, and threaten him with a flogging. This had its effect. + Mattioli, to make his peace, offered a valuable ring to Blainvilliers. The + ring was kept to be restored to him, if ever Louis let him go free—a + contingency mentioned more than once in the correspondence. + </p> + <p> + Apparently Mattioli now sobered down, and probably was given a separate + chamber and a valet; he certainly had a valet at Pignerol later. By May + 1681 Dauger and La Riviere still occupied their common chamber in the + ‘Tour d’en bas.’ They were regarded by Louvois as the most important of + the five prisoners then at Pignerol. They, not Mattioli, were the captives + about whose safe and secret keeping Louis and Louvois were most anxious. + This appears from a letter of Louvois to Saint-Mars, of May 12, 1681. The + gaoler, Saint-Mars, is to be promoted from Pignerol to Exiles. ‘Thither,’ + says Louvois, ‘the king desires to transport SUCH OF YOUR PRISONERS AS HE + THINKS TOO IMPORTANT TO HAVE IN OTHER HANDS THAN YOURS.’ These prisoners + are ‘THE TWO IN THE LOW CHAMBER OF THE TOWER,’ the two valets, Dauger and + La Riviere. + </p> + <p> + From a letter of Saint-Mars (June 1681) we know that Mattioli was not one + of these. He says: ‘I shall keep at Exiles two birds (merles) whom I have + here: they are only known as THE GENTRY OF THE LOW ROOM IN THE TOWER; + MATTIOLI MAY STAY ON HERE AT PIGNEROL WITH THE OTHER PRISONERS’ (Dubreuil + and the mad monk). It is at this point that Le Citoyen Roux (Fazaillac), + writing in the Year IX. of the Republic (1801), loses touch with the + secret.* Roux finds, in the State Papers, the arrival of Eustache Dauger + at Pignerol in 1669, but does not know who he is, or what is his quality. + He sees that the Mask must be either Mattioli, Dauger, the monk, one + Dubreuil, or one Calazio. But, overlooking or not having access to the + letter of Saint-Mars of June 1681, Roux holds that the prisoners taken to + Les Exiles were the monk and Mattioli. One of these must be the Mask, and + Roux votes for Mattioli. He is wrong. Mattioli beyond all doubt remained + at Pignerol. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Recherches Historiques, sur l’Homme au Masque de Fer, Paris. An +IX. +</pre> + <p> + Mountains of argument have been built on these words, deux merles, ‘two + gaol-birds.’ One of the two, we shall see, became the source of the legend + of the Man in the Iron Mask. ‘How can a wretched gaol-bird (merle) have + been the Mask?’ asks M. Topin. ‘The rogue’s whole furniture and + table-linen were sold for 1 pound 19 shillings. He only got a new suit of + clothes every three years.’ All very true; but this gaol-bird and his + mate, by the direct statement of Louvois, are ‘the prisoners too important + to be entrusted to other hands than yours’—the hands of Saint-Mars—while + Mattioli is so unimportant that he may be left at Pignerol under + Villebois. + </p> + <p> + The truth is, that the offence and the punishment of Mattioli were well + known to European diplomatists and readers of books. Casal, moreover, at + this time was openly ceded to Louis XIV., and Mattioli could not have told + the world more than it already knew. But, for some inscrutable reason, the + secret which Dauger knew, or was suspected of knowing, became more and + more a source of anxiety to Louvois and Louis. What can he have known? The + charges against his master, Roux de Marsilly, had been publicly + proclaimed. Twelve years had passed since the dealings of Arlington with + Marsilly. Yet, Louvois became more and more nervous. + </p> + <p> + In accordance with commands of his, on March 2, 1682, the two valets, who + had hitherto occupied one chamber at Exiles as at Pignerol, were cut off + from all communication with each other. Says Saint-Mars, ‘Since receiving + your letter I have warded the pair as strictly and exactly as I did M. + Fouquet and M. Lauzun, who cannot brag that he sent out or received any + intelligence. Night and day two sentinels watch their tower; and my own + windows command a view of the sentinels. Nobody speaks to my captives but + myself, my lieutenant, their confessor, and the doctor, who lives eighteen + miles away, and only sees them when I am present.’ Years went by; on + January 1687 one of the two captives died; we really do not know which + with absolute certainty. However, the intensified secrecy with which the + survivor was now guarded seems more appropriate to Dauger; and M. + Funck-Brentano and M. Lair have no doubt that it was La Riviere who + expired. He was dropsical, that appears in the official correspondence, + and the dead prisoner died of dropsy. + </p> + <p> + As for the strange secrecy about Dauger, here is an example. Saint-Mars, + in January 1687, was appointed to the fortress of the Isles + Sainte-Marguerite, that sun themselves in the bay of Cannes. On January 20 + he asks leave to go to see his little kingdom. He must leave Dauger, but + HAS FORBIDDEN EVEN HIS LIEUTENANT TO SPEAK TO THAT PRISONER. This was an + increase of precaution since 1682. He wishes to take the captive to the + Isles, but how? A sedan chair covered over with oilcloth seems best. A + litter might break down, litters often did, and some one might then see + the passenger. + </p> + <p> + Now M. Funck-Brentano says, to minimise the importance of Dauger, ‘he was + shut up like so much luggage in a chair hermetically closed with oilcloth, + carried by eight Piedmontese in relays of four.’ + </p> + <p> + Luggage is not usually carried in hermetically sealed sedan chairs, but + Saint-Mars has explained why, by surplus of precaution, he did not use a + litter. The litter might break down and Dauger might be seen. A new prison + was built specially, at the cost of 5,000 livres, for Dauger at + Sainte-Marguerite, with large sunny rooms. On May 3, 1687, Saint-Mars had + entered on his island realm, Dauger being nearly killed by twelve days’ + journey in a closed chair. He again excited the utmost curiosity. On + January 8, 1688, Saint-Mars writes that his prisoner is believed by the + world to be either a son of Oliver Cromwell, or the Duc de Beaufort,* who + was never seen again, dead or alive, after a night battle in Crete, on + June 25, 1669, just before Dauger was arrested. Saint-Mars sent in a note + of the TOTAL of Dauger’s expenses for the year 1687. He actually did not + dare to send the ITEMS, he says, lest they, if the bill fell into the + wrong hands, might reveal too much! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *The Duc de Beaufort whom Athos releases from prison in Dumas’s +Vingt Ans Apres. +</pre> + <p> + Meanwhile, an Italian news-letter, copied into a Leyden paper, of August + 1687, declared that Mattioli had just been brought from Pignerol to + Sainte-Marguerite. There was no mystery about Mattioli, the story of his + capture was published in 1682, but the press, on one point, was in error: + Mattioli was still at Pignerol. The known advent of the late Commandant of + Pignerol, Saint-Mars, with a single concealed prisoner, at the island, + naturally suggested the erroneous idea that the prisoner was Mattioli. The + prisoner was really Dauger, the survivor of the two valets. + </p> + <p> + From 1688 to 1691 no letter about Dauger has been published. Apparently he + was then the only prisoner on the island, except one Chezut, who was there + before Dauger arrived, and gave up his chamber to Dauger while the new + cells were being built. Between 1689 and 1693 six Protestant preachers + were brought to the island, while Louvois, the Minister, died in 1691, and + was succeeded by Barbezieux. On August 13, 1691, Barbezieux wrote to ask + Saint-Mars about ‘the prisoner whom he had guarded for twenty years.’ The + only such prisoner was Dauger, who entered Pignerol in August 1669. + Mattioli had been a prisoner only for twelve years, and lay in Pignerol, + not in Sainte-Marguerite, where Saint-Mars now was. Saint-Mars replied: ‘I + can assure you that nobody has seen him but myself.’ + </p> + <p> + By the beginning of March 1694, Pignerol had been bombarded by the enemies + of France; presently Louis XIV. had to cede it to Savoy. The prisoners + there must be removed. Mattioli, in Pignerol, at the end of 1693, had been + in trouble. He and his valet had tried to smuggle out letters written on + the linings of their pockets. These were seized and burned. On March 20, + 1694, Barbezieux wrote to Laprade, now commanding at Pignerol, that he + must take his three prisoners, one by one, with all secrecy, to + Sainte-Marguerite. Laprade alone must give them their food on the journey. + The military officer of the escort was warned to ask no questions. Already + (February 26, 1694) Barbezieux had informed Saint-Mars that these + prisoners were coming. ‘They are of more consequence, one of them at + least, than the prisoners on the island, and must be put in the safest + places.’ The ‘one’ is doubtless Mattioli. In 1681 Louvois had thought + Dauger and La Riviere more important than Mattioli, who, in March 1694, + came from Pignerol to Sainte-Marguerite. Now in April 1694 a prisoner died + at the island, a prisoner who, like Mattioli, HAD A VALET. We hear of no + other prisoner on the island, except Mattioli, who had a valet. A letter + of Saint-Mars (January 6, 1696) proves that no prisoner THEN had a valet, + for each prisoner collected his own dirty plates and dishes, piled them + up, and handed them to the lieutenant. + </p> + <p> + M. Funck-Brentano argues that in this very letter (January 6, 1696) + Saint-Mars speaks of ‘les valets de messieurs les prisonniers.’ But in + that part of the letter Saint-Mars is not speaking of the actual state of + things at Sainte-Marguerite, but is giving reminiscences of Fouquet and + Lauzun, who, of course, at Pignerol, had valets, and had money, as he + shows. Dauger had no money. M. Funck-Brentano next argues that early in + 1694 one of the preacher prisoners, Melzac, died, and cites M. Jung (‘La + Verite sur le Masque de Fer,’ p. 91). This is odd, as M. Jung says that + Melzac, or Malzac, ‘DIED IN THE END OF 1692, OR EARLY IN 1693.’ Why, then, + does M. Funck-Brentano cite M. Jung for the death of the preacher early in + 1694, when M. Jung (conjecturally) dates his decease at least a year + earlier?* It is not a mere conjecture, as, on March 3, 1693, Barbezieux + begs Saint-Mars to mention his Protestant prisoners under nicknames. There + are three, and Malzac is no longer one of them. Malzac, in 1692, suffered + from a horrible disease, discreditable to one of the godly, and in October + 1692 had been allowed medical expenses. Whether they included a valet or + not, Malzac seems to have been non-existent by March 1693. Had he + possessed a valet, and had he died in 1694, why should HIS valet have been + ‘shut up in the vaulted prison’? This was the fate of the valet of the + prisoner who died in April 1694, and was probably Mattioli. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *M. Funck-Brentano’s statement is in Revue Historique, lvi. p. 298. +‘Malzac died at the beginning of 1694,’ citing Jung, p. 91. Now on P. 91 +M. Jung writes, ‘At the beginning of 1694 Saint-Mars had six prisoners, +of whom one, Melzac, dies.’ But M. Jung (pp. 269, 270) later writes, ‘It +is probable that Melzac died at the end of 1692, or early in 1693,’ and +he gives his reasons, which are convincing. M. Funck-Brentano must have +overlooked M. Jung’s change of opinion between his P. 91 and his pp. +269, 270. +</pre> + <p> + Mattioli, certainly, had a valet in December 1693 at Pignerol. He went to + Sainte-Marguerite in March 1694. In April 1694 a prisoner with a valet + died at Sainte-Marguerite. In January 1696 no prisoner at + Sainte-Marguerite had a valet. Therefore, there is a strong presumption + that the ‘prisonnier au valet’ who died in April 1694 was Mattioli. + </p> + <p> + After December 1693, when he was still at Pignerol, the name of Mattioli, + freely used before, never occurs in the correspondence. But we still often + hear of ‘l’ancien prisonnier,’ ‘the old prisoner.’ He was, on the face of + it, Dauger, by far the oldest prisoner. In 1688, Saint-Mars, having only + one prisoner (Dauger), calls him merely ‘my prisoner.’ In 1691, when + Saint-Mars had several prisoners, Barbezieux styles Dauger ‘your prisoner + of twenty years’ standing.’ When, in 1696-1698, Saint-Mars mentions ‘mon + ancien prisonnier,’ ‘my prisoner of long standing,’ he obviously means + Dauger, not Mattioli—above all, if Mattioli died in 1694. M. + Funck-Brentano argues that ‘mon ancien prisonnier’ can only mean ‘my + erstwhile prisoner, he who was lost and is restored to me’—that is, + Mattioli. This is not the view of M. Jung, or M. Lair, or M. Loiseleur. + </p> + <p> + Friends of Mattioli’s claims rest much on this letter of Barbezieux to + Saint-Mars (November 17, 1697): ‘You have only to watch over the security + of all your prisoners, WITHOUT EVER EXPLAINING TO ANY ONE WHAT IT IS THAT + YOUR PRISONER OF LONG STANDING DID.’ That secret, it is argued, MUST apply + to Mattioli. But all the world knew what Mattioli had done! Nobody knew, + and nobody knows, what Eustache Dauger had done. It was one of the arcana + imperii. It is the secret enforced ever since Dauger’s arrest in 1669. + Saint-Mars (1669) was not to ask. Louis XIV. could only lighten the + captivity of Fouquet (1678) if his valet, La Riviere, did not know what + Dauger had done. La Riviere (apparently a harmless man) lived and died in + confinement, the sole reason being that he might perhaps know what Dauger + had done. Consequently there is the strongest presumption that the ‘ancien + prisonnier’ of 1697 is Dauger, and that ‘what he had done’ (which + Saint-Mars must tell to no one) was what Dauger did, not what Mattioli + did. All Europe knew what Mattioli had done; his whole story had been + published to the world in 1682 and 1687. + </p> + <p> + On July 19, 1698, Barbezieux bade Saint-Mars come to assume the command of + the Bastille. He is to bring his ‘old prisoner,’ whom not a soul is to + see. Saint-Mars therefore brought his man MASKED, exactly as another + prisoner was carried masked from Provence to the Bastille in 1695. M. + Funck-Brentano argues that Saint-Mars was now quite fond of his old + Mattioli, so noble, so learned. + </p> + <p> + At last, on September 18, 1698, Saint-Mars lodged his ‘old prisoner’ in + the Bastille, ‘an old prisoner whom he had at Pignerol,’ says the journal + of du Junca, Lieutenant of the Bastille. His food, we saw, was brought him + by Rosarges alone, the ‘Major,’ a gentleman who had always been with + Saint-Mars. Argues M. Funck-Brentano, all this proves that the captive was + a gentleman, not a valet. Why? First, because the Bastille, under Louis + XIV., was ‘une prison de distinction.’ Yet M. Funck-Brentano tells us that + in Mazarin’s time ‘valets mixed up with royal plots’ were kept in the + Bastille. Again, in 1701, in this ‘noble prison,’ the Mask was turned out + of his room to make place for a female fortune-teller, and was obliged to + chum with a profligate valet of nineteen, and a ‘beggarly’ bad patriot, + who ‘blamed the conduct of France, and approved that of other nations, + especially the Dutch.’ M. Funck-Brentano himself publishes these facts + (1898), in part published earlier (1890) by M. Lair.* Not much noblesse + here! Next, if Rosarges, a gentleman, served the Mask, Saint-Mars alone + (1669) carried his food to the valet, Dauger. So the service of Rosarges + does not ennoble the Mask and differentiate him from Dauger, who was even + more nobly served, by Saint-Mars. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Legendes de la Bastille, pp. 86-89. Citing du Junca’s Journal, +April 30, 1701. +</pre> + <p> + On November 19, 1703, the Mask died suddenly (still in his velvet mask), + and was buried on the 20th. The parish register of the church names him + ‘Marchialy’ or ‘Marchioly,’ one may read it either way; du Junca, the + Lieutenant of the Bastille, in his contemporary journal, calls him ‘Mr. de + Marchiel.’ Now, Saint-Mars often spells Mattioli, ‘Marthioly.’ + </p> + <p> + This is the one strength of the argument for Mattioli’s claims to the + Mask. M. Lair replies, ‘Saint-Mars had a mania for burying prisoners under + fancy names,’ and gives examples. One is only a gardener, Francois Eliard + (1701), concerning whom it is expressly said that, as he is a State + prisoner, his real name is not to be given, so he is registered as Pierre + Maret (others read Navet, ‘Peter Turnip’). If Saint-Mars, looking about + for a false name for Dauger’s burial register, hit on Marsilly (the name + of Dauger’s old master), that MIGHT be miswritten Marchialy. However it + be, the age of the Mask is certainly falsified; the register gives ‘about + forty-five years old.’ Mattioli would have been sixty-three; Dauger cannot + have been under fifty-three. + </p> + <p> + There the case stands. If Mattioli died in April 1694, he cannot be the + Man in the Iron Mask. Of Dauger’s death we find no record, unless he was + the Man in the Iron Mask, and died, in 1703, in the Bastille. He was + certainly, in 1669 and 1688, at Pignerol and at Sainte-Marguerite, the + centre of the mystery about some great prisoner, a Marshal of France, the + Duc de Beaufort, or a son of Oliver Cromwell. Mattioli was no mystery, no + secret. Dauger is so mysterious that probably the secret of his mystery + was unknown to himself. By 1701, when obscure wretches were shut up with + the Mask, the secret, whatever its nature, had ceased to be of moment. The + captive was now the mere victim of cruel routine. But twenty years + earlier, Saint-Mars had said that Dauger ‘takes things easily, resigned to + the will of God and the King.’ + </p> + <p> + To sum up, on July 1, 1669, the valet of the Huguenot intriguer, Roux de + Marsilly, the valet resident in England, known to his master as ‘Martin,’ + was ‘wanted’ by the French secret police. By July 19, a valet, of the + highest political importance, had been brought to Dunkirk, from England, + no doubt. My hypothesis assumes that this valet, though now styled + ‘Eustache Dauger,’ was the ‘Martin’ of Roux de Marsilly. He was kept with + so much mystery at Pignerol that already the legend began its course; the + captive valet was said to be a Marshal of France! We then follow Dauger + from Pignerol to Les Exiles, till January 1687, when one valet out of a + pair, Dauger being one of them, dies. We presume that Dauger is the + survivor, because the great mystery still is ‘what he HAS DONE,’ whereas + the other valet had done nothing, but may have known Dauger’s secret. + Again, the other valet had long been dropsical, and the valet who died in + 1687 died of dropsy. + </p> + <p> + In 1688, Dauger, at Sainte-Marguerite, is again the source and centre of + myths; he is taken for a son of Oliver Cromwell, or for the Duc de + Beaufort. In June 1692, one of the Huguenot preachers at Sainte-Marguerite + writes on his shirt and pewter plate, and throws them out of window.* + Legend attributes these acts to the Man in the Iron Mask, and transmutes a + pewter into a silver plate. Now, in 1689-1693, Mattioli was at Pignerol, + but Dauger was at Sainte-Marguerite, and the Huguenot’s act is attributed + to him. Thus Dauger, not Mattioli, is the centre round which the myths + crystallise: the legends concern HIM, not Mattioli, whose case is well + known, and gives rise to no legend. Finally, we have shown that Mattioli + probably died at Sainte-Marguerite in April 1694. If so, then nobody but + Dauger can be the ‘old prisoner’ whom Saint-Mars brought, masked, to the + Bastille, in September 1698, and who died there in November 1703. However, + suppose that Mattioli did not die in 1694, but was the masked man who died + in the Bastille in 1703, then the legend of Dauger came to be attributed + to Mattioli: these two men’s fortunes are combined in the one myth. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Saint-Mars au Ministre, June 4, 1692. +</pre> + <p> + The central problem remains unsolved, + </p> + <p> + WHAT HAD THE VALET, EUSTACHE DAUGER, DONE?* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *One marvels that nobody has recognised, in the mask, James Stuart +(James de la Cloche), eldest of the children of Charles II. He came to +England in 1668, was sent to Rome, and ‘disappears from history.’ See +‘The Mystery of James de la Cloche.’ +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. THE VALET’S MASTER + </h2> + <p> + The secret of the Man in the Iron Mask, or at least of one of the two + persons who have claims to be the Mask, was ‘WHAT HAD EUSTACHE DAUGER + DONE?’ To guard this secret the most extraordinary precautions were taken, + as we have shown in the fore-going essay. And yet, if secret there was, it + might have got wind in the simplest fashion. In the ‘Vicomte de + Bragelonne,’ Dumas describes the tryst of the Secret-hunters with the + dying Chief of the Jesuits at the inn in Fontainebleau. They come from + many quarters, there is a Baron of Germany and a laird from Scotland, but + Aramis takes the prize. He knows the secret of the Mask, the most valuable + of all to the intriguers of the Company of Jesus. + </p> + <p> + Now, despite all the precautions of Louvois and Saint-Mars, despite + sentinels for ever posted under Dauger’s windows, despite arrangements + which made it impossible for him to signal to people on the hillside at + Les Exiles, despite the suppression even of the items in the accounts of + his expenses, his secret, if he knew it, could have been discovered, as we + have remarked, by the very man most apt to make mischievous use of it—by + Lauzun. That brilliant and reckless adventurer could see Dauger, in prison + at Pignerol, when he pleased, for he had secretly excavated a way into the + rooms of his fellow-prisoner, Fouquet, on whom Dauger attended as valet. + Lauzun was released soon after Fouquet’s death. It is unlikely that he + bought his liberty by the knowledge of the secret, and there is nothing to + suggest that he used it (if he possessed it) in any other way. + </p> + <p> + The natural clue to the supposed secret of Dauger is a study of the career + of his master, Roux de Marsilly. As official histories say next to nothing + about him, we may set forth what can be gleaned from the State Papers in + our Record Office. The earliest is a letter of Roux de Marsilly to Mr. + Joseph Williamson, secretary of Lord Arlington (December 1668). Marsilly + sends Martin (on our theory Eustache Dauger) to bring back from Williamson + two letters from his own correspondent in Paris. He also requests + Williamson to procure for him from Arlington a letter of protection, as he + is threatened with arrest for some debt in which he is not really + concerned. Martin will explain. The next paper is endorsed ‘Received + December 28, 1668, Mons. de Marsilly.’ As it is dated December 27, + Marsilly must have been in England. The contents of this piece deserve + attention, because they show the terms on which Marsilly and Arlington + were, or, at least, how Marsilly conceived them. + </p> + <p> + (1) Marsilly reports, on the authority of his friends at Stockholm, that + the King of Sweden intends, first to intercede with Louis XIV. in favour + of the French Huguenots, and next, if diplomacy fails, to join in arms + with the other Protestant Powers of Europe. + </p> + <p> + (2) His correspondent in Holland learns that if the King of England + invites the States to any ‘holy resolution,’ they will heartily lend + forces. No leader so good as the English King—Charles II! Marsilly + had shown ARLINGTON’S LETTER to a Dutch friend, who bade him approach the + Dutch ambassador in England. He has dined with that diplomatist. Arlington + had, then, gone so far as to write an encouraging letter. The Dutch + ambassador had just told Marsilly that he had received the same news, + namely, that, Holland would aid the Huguenots, persecuted by Louis XIV. + </p> + <p> + (3) Letters from Provence, Languedoc, and Dauphine say that the situation + there is unaltered. + </p> + <p> + (4) The Canton of Zurich write that they will keep their promises and that + Berne IS ANXIOUS TO PLEASE THE KING OF GREAT BRITAIN, and that it is ready + to raise, with Zurich, 15,000 men. They are not afraid of France. + </p> + <p> + (5) Zurich fears that, if Charles is not represented at the next Diet, + Bale and Saint Gal will be intimidated, and not dare to join the Triple + Alliance of Spain, Holland, and England. The best plan will be for + Marsilly to represent England at the Diet of January 25, 1669, accompanied + by the Swiss General Balthazar. This will encourage friends ‘TO GIVE HIS + BRITTANIC MAJESTY THE SATISFACTION WHICH HE DESIRES, and will produce a + close union between Holland, Sweden, the Cantons, and other Protestant + States.’ + </p> + <p> + This reads as if Charles had already expressed some ‘desire.’ + </p> + <p> + (6) Geneva grumbles at a reply of Charles ‘through a bishop who is their + enemy,’ the Bishop of London, ‘a persecutor of our religion,’ that is, of + Presbyterianism. However, nothing will dismay the Genevans, ‘si S. M. B. + ne change.’ + </p> + <p> + Then comes a blank in the paper. There follows a copy of a letter as if + FROM CHARLES II. HIMSELF, to ‘the Right High and Noble Seigneurs of + Zurich.’ He has heard of their wishes from Roux de Marsilly, whom he + commissions to wait upon them. ‘I would not have written by my Bishop of + London had I been better informed, but would myself have replied to your + obliging letter, and would have assured you, as I do now, that I + desire....’ + </p> + <p> + It appears as if this were a draft of the kind of letter which Marsilly + wanted Charles to write to Zurich, and there is a similar draft of a + letter for Arlington to follow, if he and Charles wish to send Marsilly to + the Swiss Diet. The Dutch ambassador, with whom Marsilly dined on December + 26, the Constable of Castille, and other grandees, are all of opinion that + he should visit the Protestant Swiss, as from the King of England. The + scheme is for an alliance of England, Holland, Spain, and the Protestant + Cantons, against France and Savoy. + </p> + <p> + Another letter of Marsilly to Arlington, only dated Jeudi, avers that he + can never repay Arlington for his extreme kindness and liberality. ‘No man + in England is more devoted to you than I am, and shall be all my life.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Papers, France, vol. 125, 106. +</pre> + <p> + On the very day when Marsilly drafted for Charles his own commission to + treat with Zurich for a Protestant alliance against France, Charles + himself wrote to his sister, Madame (Henriette d’Orleans). He spoke of his + secret treaty with France. ‘You know how much secrecy is necessary for the + carrying on of the business, and I assure you that nobody does, nor shall, + know anything of it here, but myself and that one person more, till it be + fit to be public.‘* (Is ‘that one person’ de la Cloche?) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Madame, by Julia Cartwright, p. 275. +</pre> + <p> + Thus Marsilly thought Charles almost engaged for the Protestant League, + while Charles was secretly allying himself with France against Holland. + Arlington was probably no less deceived by Charles than Marsilly was. + </p> + <p> + The Bishop of London’s share in the dealing with Zurich is obscure. + </p> + <p> + It appears certain that Arlington was not consciously deceiving Marsilly. + Madame wrote, on February 12, as to Arlington, ‘The man’s attachment to + the Dutch and his inclination towards Spain are too well known.‘* Not till + April 25, 1669, does Charles tell his sister that Arlington has an inkling + of his secret dealings with France; how he knows, Charles cannot tell.** + It is impossible for us to ascertain how far Charles himself deluded + Marsilly, who went to the Continent early in spring, 1669. Before May + 15/25 1669, in fact on April 14, Marsilly had been kidnapped by agents of + Louis XIV., and his doom was dight. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Madame, by Julia Cartwright, p. 281. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + **Ibid. p. 285. +</pre> + <p> + Here is the account of the matter, written to ——— by + Perwich in Paris: + </p> + <p> + W Perwich to ——— + </p> + <p> + Paris, May 25, ‘69. + </p> + <p> + Honored Sir, + </p> + <p> + . . . . . . + </p> + <p> + The Cantons of Switzerland are much troubled at the French King’s having + sent 15 horsemen into Switzerland from whence the Sr de Maille, the King’s + resident there, had given information of the Sr Roux de Marsilly’s being + there negociating the bringing the Cantons into the Triple League by + discourses much to the disadvantage of France, giving them very ill + impressions of the French King’s Government, who was BETRAYED BY A MONK + THAT KEPT HIM COMPANY and intercepted by the said horsemen brought into + France and is expected at the Bastille. I believe you know the man.... I + remember him in England. + </p> + <p> + Can this monk be the monk who went mad in prison at Pignerol, sharing the + cell of Mattioli? Did he, too, suffer for his connection with the secret? + We do not know, but the position of Charles was awkward. Marsilly, dealing + with the Swiss, had come straight from England, where he was lie with + Charles’s minister, Arlington, and with the Dutch and Spanish ambassadors. + The King refers to the matter in a letter to his sister of May 24, 1669 + (misdated by Miss Cartwright, May 24, 1668.)* + </p> + <p> + ‘You have, I hope, received full satisfaction by the last post in the + matter of Marsillac [Marsilly], for my Ld. Arlington has sent to Mr. + Montague [English ambassador at Paris] his history all the time he was + here, by which you will see how little credit he had here, and that + particularly my Lord Arlington was not in his good graces, because he did + not receive that satisfaction, in his negotiation, he expected, and that + was only in relation to the Swissers, and so I think I have said enough of + this matter.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Madame, by Julia Cartwright, p. 264. +</pre> + <p> + Charles took it easily! + </p> + <p> + On May 15-25 Montague acknowledged Arlington’s letter to which Charles + refers; he has been approached, as to Marsilly, by the Spanish resident, + ‘but I could not tell how to do anything in the business, never having + heard of the man, or that he was employed by my Master [Charles] in any + business. I have sent you also a copy of a letter which an Englishman writ + to me that I do not know, in behalf of Roux de Marsilly, but that does not + come by the post,’ being too secret.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Papers, France, vol. 126. +</pre> + <p> + France had been well informed about Marsilly while he was in England. He + then had a secretary, two lackeys, and a valet de chambre, and was + frequently in conference with Arlington and the Spanish ambassador to the + English Court. Colbert, the French ambassador in London, had written all + this to the French Government, on April 25, before he heard of Marsilly’s + arrest.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Bibl. Nat., Fonds Francais, No. 10665. +</pre> + <p> + The belief that Marsilly was an agent of Charles appears to have been + general, and, if accepted by Louis XIV., would interfere with Charles’s + private negotiations for the Secret Treaty with France. On May 18 Prince + d’Aremberg had written on the subject to the Spanish ambassador in Paris. + Marsilly, he says, was arrested in Switzerland, on his way to Berne, with + a monk who was also seized, and, a curious fact, Marsilly’s valet was + killed in the struggle. This valet, of course, was not Dauger, whom + Marsilly had left in England. Marsilly ‘doit avoir demande la protection + du Roy de la Grande Bretagne en faveur des Religionaires (Huguenots) de + France, et passer en Suisse AVEC QUELQUE COMMISSION DE SA PART.’ + D’Aremberg begs the Spanish ambassador to communicate all this to + Montague, the English ambassador at Paris, but Montague probably, like + Perwich, knew nothing of the business any more than he knew of Charles’s + secret dealings with Louis through Madame.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Papers, France, vol. 126. +</pre> + <p> + To d’Aremberg’s letter is pinned an unsigned English note, obviously + intended for Arlington’s reading. + </p> + <p> + ‘Roux de Marsilly is still in the Bastille though they have a mind to hang + him, yet they are much puzzled what to do with him. De Lionne has beene to + examine him twice or thrice, but there is noe witnes to prove anything + against him. I was told by one that the French king told it to, that in + his papers they find great mention of the DUKE OF BUCKS: AND YOUR NAME, + and speak as if he were much trusted by you. I have enquired what this + Marsilly is, and I find by one Mr. Marsilly that I am acquainted withall, + and a man of quality, that this man’s name is onely Roux, and borne at + Nismes and having been formerly a soldier in his troope, ever since has + taken his name to gain more credit in Switserland where hee, Marsilly, + formerly used to bee employed by his Coll: the Mareschall de Schomberg who + invaded Switserland.’ + </p> + <p> + We next find a very curious letter, from which it appears that the French + Government inclined to regard Marsilly as, in fact, an agent of Charles, + but thought it wiser to trump up against him a charge of conspiring + against the life of Louis XIV. On this charge, or another, he was + executed, while the suspicion that he was an agent of English treachery + may have been the real cause of the determination to destroy him. The + Balthazar with whom Marsilly left his papers is mentioned with praise by + him in his paper for Arlington, of December 27, 1668. He is the General + who should have accompanied Marsilly to the Diet. + </p> + <p> + The substance of the letter (given in full in Note I.) is to the following + effect. P. du Moulin (Paris, May 19-29, 1669) writes to Arlington. Ever + since Ruvigny, the late French ambassador, a Protestant, was in England, + the French Government had been anxious to kidnap Roux de Marsilly. They + hunted him in England, Holland, Flanders, and Franche-Comte. As we know + from the case of Mattioli, the Government of Louis XIV. was unscrupulously + daring in breaking the laws of nations, and seizing hostile personages in + foreign territory, as Napoleon did in the affair of the Duc d’Enghien. + When all failed, Louis bade Turenne capture Roux de Marsilly wherever he + could find him. Turenne sent officers and gentlemen abroad, and, after + four months’ search, they found Marsilly in Switzerland. They took him as + he came out of the house of his friend, General Balthazar, and carried him + to Gex. No papers were found on him, but he asked his captors to send to + Balthazar and get ‘the commission he had from England,’ which he probably + thought would give him the security of an official diplomatic position. + Having got this document, Marsilly’s captors took it to the French + Ministers. Nothing could be more embarrassing, if this were true, to + Charles’s representative in France, Montague, and to Charles’s secret + negotiations, also to Arlington, who had dealt with Marsilly. On his part, + the captive Marsilly constantly affirmed that he was the envoy of the King + of England. The common talk of Paris was that an agent of Charles was in + the Bastille, ‘though at Court they pretend to know nothing of it.’ Louis + was overjoyed at Marsilly’s capture, giving out that he was conspiring + against his life. Monsieur told Montague that he need not beg for the life + of a would-be murderer like Marsilly. But as to this idea, ‘they begin now + to mince it at Court,’ and Ruvigny assured du Moulin ‘that they had no + such thoughts.’ De Lyonne had seen Marsilly and observed that it was a + blunder to seize him. The French Government was nervous, and Turenne’s + secretary had been ‘pumping’ several ambassadors as to what they thought + of Marsilly’s capture on foreign territory. One ambassador replied with + spirit that a crusade by all Europe against France, as of old against the + Moslems, would be necessary. Would Charles, du Moulin asked, own or disown + Marsilly? + </p> + <p> + Montague’s position was now awkward. On May 23, his account of the case + was read, at Whitehall, to the Foreign Committee in London. (See Note II. + for the document.) He did not dare to interfere in Marsilly’s behalf, + because he did not know whether the man was an agent of Charles or not. + Such are the inconveniences of a secret royal diplomacy carried on behind + the backs of Ministers. Louis XV. later pursued this method with awkward + consequences.* The French Court, Montague said, was overjoyed at the + capture of Marsilly, and a reward of 100,000 crowns, ‘I am told very + privately, is set upon his head.’ The French ambassador in England, + Colbert, had reported that Charles had sent Marsilly ‘to draw the Swisses + into the Triple League’ against France. Montague had tried to reassure + Monsieur (Charles’s brother-in-law), but was himself entirely perplexed. + As Monsieur’s wife, Charles’s sister, was working with Charles for the + secret treaty with Louis, the State and family politics were clearly in a + knot. Meanwhile the Spanish ambassador kept pressing Montague to interfere + in favour of Marsilly. After Montague’s puzzled note had been read to the + English Foreign Committee on May 23, Arlington offered explanations. + Marsilly came to England, he said, when Charles was entering into + negotiations for peace with Holland, and when France seemed likely to + oppose the peace. No proposition was made to him or by him. Peace being + made, Marsilly was given money to take him out of the country. He wanted + the King to renew his alliance with the Swiss cantons, but was told that + the cantons must first expel the regicides of Charles I. He undertook to + arrange this, and some eight months later came back to England. ‘He was + coldly used, and I was complained of for not using so important a man well + enough.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Cf. Le Secret du Roi, by the Duc de Broglie. +</pre> + <p> + As we saw, Marsilly expressed the most effusive gratitude to Arlington, + which does not suggest cold usage. Arlington told the complainers that + Marsilly was ‘another man’s spy,’ what man’s, Dutch, Spanish, or even + French, he does not explain. So Charles gave Marsilly money to go away. He + was never trusted with anything but the expulsion of the regicides from + Switzerland. Arlington was ordered by Charles to write a letter thanking + Balthazar for his good offices. + </p> + <p> + These explanations by Arlington do not tally with Marsilly’s + communications to him, as cited at the beginning of this inquiry. Nothing + is said in these about getting the regicides of Charles I. out of + Switzerland: the paper is entirely concerned with bringing the Protestant + Cantons into anti-French League with England, Holland, Spain, and even + Sweden. On the other hand, Arlington’s acknowledged letter to Balthazar, + carried by Marsilly, may be the ‘commission’ of which Marsilly boasted. In + any case, on June 2, Charles gave Colbert, the French ambassador, an + audience, turning even the Duke of York out of the room. He then repeated + to Colbert the explanations of Arlington, already cited, and Arlington, in + a separate interview, corroborated Charles. So Colbert wrote to Louis + (June 3, 1669); but to de Lyonne, on the same day, ‘I trust that you will + extract from Marsilly much matter for the King’s service. IT SEEMED TO ME + THAT MILORD D’ARLINGTON WAS UNEASY ABOUT IT [EN AVAIT DE L’INQUIETUDE].... + There is here in England one Martin’ (Eustace Dauger), ‘who has been that + wretch’s valet, and who left him in discontent.’ Colbert then proposes to + examine Martin, who may know a good deal, and to send him into France. On + June 10, Colbert writes to Louis that he expects to see Martin.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Bibl. Nat., Fonds Francais, No. 10665. +</pre> + <p> + On June 24, Colbert wrote to Louis about a conversation with Charles. It + is plain that proofs of a murder-plot by Marsilly were scanty or + non-existent, though Colbert averred that Marsilly had discussed the + matter with the Spanish Ministers. ‘Charles knew that he had had much + conference with Isola, the Spanish ambassador.’ Meanwhile, up to July 1, + Colbert was trying to persuade Marsilly’s valet to go to France, which he + declined to do, as we have seen. However, the luckless lad, by nods and by + veiled words, indicated that he knew a great deal. But not by promise of + security and reward could the valet be induced to return to France. ‘I + might ask the King to give up Martin, the valet of Marsilly, to me,’ + Colbert concludes, and, by hook or by crook, he secured the person of the + wretched man, as we have seen. In a postscript, Colbert says that he has + heard of the execution of Marsilly. + </p> + <p> + By July 19, as we saw in the previous essay, Louvois was bidding + Saint-Mars expect, at Pignerol from Dunkirk, a prisoner of the highest + political importance, to be guarded with the utmost secrecy, yet a valet. + That valet must be Martin, now called Eustache Dauger, and his secret can + only be connected with Marsilly. It may have been something about + Arlington’s negotiations through Marsilly, as compromising Charles II. + Arlington’s explanations to the Foreign Committee were certainly + incomplete and disingenuous. He, if not Charles, was more deeply engaged + with Marsilly than he ventured to report. But Marsilly himself avowed that + he did not know why he was to be executed. + </p> + <p> + Executed he was, in circumstances truly hideous. Perwich, June 5, wrote to + an unnamed correspondent in England: ‘They have all his papers, which + speak much of the Triple Alliance, but I know not whether they can + lawfully hang him for this, having been naturalised in Holland, and taken + in a privileged country’ (Switzerland). Montague (Paris, June 22, 1669) + writes to Arlington that Marsilly is to die, so it has been decided, for + ‘a rape which he formerly committed at Nismes,’ and after the execution, + on June 26, declares that, when broken on the wheel, Marsilly ‘still + persisted that he was guilty of nothing, nor did know why he was put to + death.’ + </p> + <p> + Like Eustache Dauger, Marsilly professed that he did not know his own + secret. The charge of a rape, long ago, at Nismes, was obviously trumped + up to cover the real reason for the extraordinary vindictiveness with + which he was pursued, illegally taken, and barbarously slain. Mere + Protestant restlessness on his part is hardly an explanation. There was + clearly no evidence for the charge of a plot to murder Louis XIV., in + which Colbert, in England, seems to have believed. Even if the French + Government believed that he was at once an agent of Charles II., and at + the same time a would-be assassin of Louis XIV., that hardly accounts for + the intense secrecy with which his valet, Eustache Dauger, was always + surrounded. Did Marsilly know of the Secret Treaty, and was it from him + that Arlington got his first inkling of the royal plot? If so, Marsilly + would probably have exposed the mystery in Protestant interests. We are + entirely baffled. + </p> + <p> + In any case, Francis Vernon, writing from Paris to Williamson (?) (June + 19-29 1669), gave a terrible account of Marsilly’s death. (For the letter, + see Note V.) With a broken piece of glass (as we learn from another + source), Marsilly, in prison, wounded himself in a ghastly manner, + probably hoping to die by loss of blood. They seared him with a red-hot + iron, and hurried on his execution. He was broken on the wheel, and was + two hours in dying (June 22). Contrary to usage, a Protestant preacher was + brought to attend him on the scaffold. He came most reluctantly, expecting + insult, but not a taunt was uttered by the fanatic populace. ‘He came up + the scaffold, great silence all about.’ Marsilly lay naked, stretched on a + St. Andrew’s cross. He had seemed half dead, his head hanging limp, ‘like + a drooping calf.’ To greet the minister of his own faith, he raised + himself, to the surprise of all, and spoke out loud and clear. He utterly + denied all share in a scheme to murder Louis. The rest may be read in the + original letter (Note V.). + </p> + <p> + So perished Roux de Marsilly; the history of the master throws no light on + the secret of the servant. That secret, for many years, caused the keenest + anxiety to Louis XIV. and Louvois. Saint-Mars himself must not pry into + it. Yet what could Dauger know? That there had been a conspiracy against + the King’s life? But that was the public talk of Paris. If Dauger had + guilty knowledge, his life might have paid for it; why keep him a secret + prisoner? Did he know that Charles II. had been guilty of double dealing + in 1668-1669? Probably Charles had made some overtures to the Swiss, as a + blind to his private dealings with Louis XIV., but, even so, how could the + fact haunt Louis XIV. like a ghost? We leave the mystery much darker than + we found it, but we see reason good why diplomatists should have murmured + of a crusade against the cruel and brigand Government which sent soldiers + to kidnap, in neighbouring states, men who did not know their own crime. + </p> + <p> + To myself it seems not improbable that the King and Louvois were but + stupidly and cruelly nervous about what Dauger MIGHT know. Saint-Mars, + when he proposed to utilise Dauger as a prison valet, manifestly did not + share the trembling anxieties of Louis XIV. and his Minister; anxieties + which grew more keen as time went on. However, ‘a soldier only has his + orders,’ and Saint-Mars executed his orders with minute precision, taking + such unheard-of precautions that, in legend, the valet blossomed into the + rightful king of France. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * * * +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_APPE" id="link2H_APPE"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + APPENDIX. + </h2> + <h3> + ORIGINAL PAPERS IN THE CASE OF ROUX DE MARSILLY.* + </h3> + <p> + Note I. Letter of Mons. P. du Moulin to Arlington.** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Paris, May ye 19-29, 1669. +</pre> + <p> + My Lord, + </p> + <p> + . . . . . . + </p> + <p> + Ever since that Monsieur de Ruvigny was in England last, and upon the + information he gave, this King had a very great desire to seize if it were + possible this Roux de Marsilly, and several persons were sent to effect + it, into England, Holland, Flanders, and Franche Comte: amongst the rest + one La Grange, exempt des Gardes, was a good while in Holland with fifty + of the guards dispersed in severall places and quarters; But all having + miscarried the King recommended the thing to Monsieur de Turenne who sent + some of his gentlemen and officers under him to find this man out and to + endeavour to bring him alive. These men after foure months search found + him att last in Switzerland, and having laid waite for him as he came out + from Monsr Balthazar’s house (a commander well knowne) they took him and + carryed him to Gex before they could be intercepted and he rescued. This + was done only by a warrant from Monsieur de Turenne but as soone as they + came into the french dominions they had full powers and directions from + this court for the bringing of him hither. Those that tooke him say they + found no papers about him, but that he desired them to write to Monsr + Balthazar to desire him to take care of his papers and to send him THE + COMMISSION HE HAD FROM ENGLAND and a letter being written to that effect + it was signed by the prisoner and instead of sending it as they had + promised, they have brought it hither along with them. THEY DO ALL + UNANIMOUSLY REPORT THAT HE DID CONSTANTLY AFFIRME THAT HE WAS IMPLOYED BY + THE KING OF GREAT BRITTAIN AND DID ACT BY HIS COMMISSION; so that the + general discourse here in towne is that one of the King of England’s + agents is in the Bastille; though att Court they pretend to know nothing + of it and would have the world think they are persuaded he had no relacion + to his Majesty. Your Lordship hath heard by the publique newes how + overjoyed this King was att the bringing of this prisoner, and how farr he + expressed his thanks to the cheife person employed in it, declaring openly + that this man had long since conspired against his life, and agreable to + this, Monsieur, fearing that My lord Ambr. was come to interpose on the + prisoner’s behalfe asked him on Friday last att St. Germains whether that + was the cause of his coming, and told him that he did not think he would + speake for a man that attempted to kill the King. The same report hath + been hitherto in everybody’s mouth but they begin now to mince it att + court, and Monsieur de Ruvigny would have persuaded me yesterday, they had + no such thoughts. The truth is I am apt to believe they begin now to be + ashamed of it: and I am informed from a very good hand that Monsieur de + Lionne who hath been at the Bastille to speake with the prisoner hath + confessed since that he can find no ground for this pretended attempting + to the King’s life, and that upon the whole he was of opinion that this + man had much better been left alone than taken, and did look upon what he + had done as the intemperancy of an ill-settled braine. And to satisfy your + Lordship that they are nettled here, and are concerned to know what may be + the issue of all this, Monsieur de Turenne’s secretary was on Munday last + sent to several forreigne Ministers to pump them and to learne what their + thoughts were concerning this violence committed in the Dominions of a + sovereign and an allye whereupon he was told by one of them that such + proceedings would bring Europe to the necessity of entering into a + Croisade against them, as formerly against the infidels. If I durst I + would acquaint your Lordship with the reflexions of all publique ministers + here and of other unconcerned persons in relation to his Majesty’s owning + or disowning this man; but not knowing the particulars of his case, nor + the grounds his Ma’ty may go upon, I shall forbeare entering upon this + discourse.. .. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Your Lordships’ etc. + + P. Du MOULIN. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Papers, France, vol. 126. + + **Ibid. + + ——— +</pre> + <p> + Note II. Paper endorsed ‘Mr. Montague originally in Cypher. Received May + 19, ‘69. Read in foreigne Committee, 23 May. Roux de Marsilli.‘* + </p> + <p> + I durst not venture to sollicite in Monsr Roux Marsilly’s behalfe because + I doe not know whether the King my Master hath imployed him or noe; + besides he is a man, as I have beene told by many people here of worth, + that has given out that hee is resolved to kill the French king at one + time or other, and I think such men are as dangerous to one king as to + another: hee is brought to the Bastille and I believe may be proceeded + against and put to death, in very few daies. There is great joy in this + Court for his being taken, and a hundred thousand crownes, I am told very + privately, set upon his head; the French Ambassador in England watcht him, + and hee has given the intelligence here of his being employed by the King, + and sent into Switzerland by my Master to draw the Swisses into the Triple + League. Hee aggravates the business as much as hee can to the prejudice of + my Master to value his owne service the more, and they seeme here to + wonder that the King my Master should have imployed or countenanced a man + that had so base a design against the King’s Person, I had a great deal of + discourse with Monsieur about it, but I did positively say that he had noe + relation to my knowledge to the King my Master, and if he should have I + make a question or noe whither in this case the King will owne him. + However, my Lord, I had nothing to doe to owne or meddle in a buisines + that I was so much a stranger to.... + </p> + <p> + This Roux Marsilly is a great creature of the B. d’Isola’s, wch makes them + here hate him the more. The Spanish Resident was very earnest with mee to + have done something in behalfe of Marsilly, but I positively refused. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Papers, France, vol. 126. + + ——— +</pre> + <p> + Note III. [A paper endorsed ‘Roux de Marsilli. Read in for. Committee, 23d + May.‘]* + </p> + <p> + Roux de Marsilly came hither when your Majesty had made a union with + Holland for making the Peace betwixt the two Crownes and when it was + probable the opposition to the Peace would bee on the side of France. + </p> + <p> + Marsilly was heard telling of longe things but noe proposition made to him + or by him. + </p> + <p> + Presently the Peace was made and Marsilly told more plainly wee had no use + of him. A little summe of money was given him to returne as he said + whither he was to goe in Switzerland. Upon which hee wishing his Ma’ty + would renew his allience wth the Cantons hee was answerd his M’ty would + not enter into any comerce with them till they had sent the regicides out + of their Country, hee undertooke it should bee done. Seven or eight months + after wth out any intimation given him from hence or any expectation of + him, he comes hither, but was so coldly used I was complained off for not + using so important a man well enough. I answerd I saw noe use the King + could make of him, because he had no credit in Switzerlande and for any + thing else I thought him worth nothing to us, but above all because I knew + by many circumstances HEE WAS ANOTHER MAN’S SPY and soe ought not to be + paid by his Majesty. Notwithstanding this his Ma’ty being moved from + compassion commanded hee should have some money given him to carry him + away and that I should write to Monsieur Balthazar thanking him in the + King’s name for the good offices hee rendered in advancing a good + understanding betwixt his Ma’ty and the Cantons and desiring him to + continue them in all occasions. + </p> + <p> + The man was always looked upon as a hot headed and indiscreete man, and + soe accordingly handled, hearing him, but never trusting him with anything + but his own offered and undesired endeavours to gett the Regicides sent + out of Switzerland. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Papers, France, vol. 126. + + ——— +</pre> + <p> + Note IV. Letter of W. Perwich to ——— .* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Paris: June 5, 1669. +</pre> + <p> + Honored Sir, + </p> + <p> + . . . . . . + </p> + <p> + Roux Marsilly has prudently declared hee had some what of importance to + say but it should bee to the King himselfe wch may be means of respiting + his processe and as he hopes intercession may bee made for him; but people + talk so variously of him that I cannot tell whether hee ought to bee owned + by any Prince; the Suisses have indeed the greatest ground to reclayme him + as being taken in theirs. They have all his papers which speak much of the + Triple Alliance; if they have no other pretext of hanging him I know not + whether they can lawfully for this, hee having been naturallised in + Holland and taken in a priviledged Country.... + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Papers, France, vol. 126. + + ——— +</pre> + <p> + Note V. Francis Vernon to [Mr. Williamson?].* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Paris: June 19-29 1669. +</pre> + <p> + Honored Sir, + </p> + <p> + My last of the 26th Currt was soe short and soe abrupt that I fear you can + peck butt little satisfaction out of it. + </p> + <p> + . . . . . . + </p> + <p> + I did intend to have written something about Marsilly but that I had noe + time then. In my letter to my Lord Arlington I writt that Friday 21 Currt + hee wounded himself wch he did not because hee was confronted with Ruvigny + as the Gazettes speake. For he knew before hee should dye, butt he thought + by dismembering himself that the losse of blood would carry him out of the + world before it should come to bee knowne that he had wounded himselfe. + And when the Governor of the Bastille spied the blood hee said It was a + stone was come from him which caused that effusion. However the governor + mistrusted the worst and searcht him to see what wound he had made. So + they seared him and sent word to St. Germaines which made his execution be + hastened. Saturday about 1 of the clock hee was brought on the skaffold + before the Chastelet and tied to St. Andrew’s Crosse all wch while he + acted the Dying man and scarce stirred, and seemed almost breathlesse and + fainting. The Lieutenant General presst him to confesse and ther was a + doctor of the Sorbon who was a counsellr of the Castelet there likewise to + exhort him to disburthen his mind of any thing which might be upon it. + Butt he seemed to take no notice and lay panting. + </p> + <p> + Then the Lieutenant Criminel bethought himself that the only way to make + him speake would bee to sende for a ministre soe hee did to Monsr Daillie + butt hee because the Edicts don’t permitt ministres to come to condemned + persons in publique butt only to comfort them in private before they goe + out of prison refused to come till hee sent a huissier who if hee had + refused the second time would have brought him by force. At this second + summons hee came butt not without great expectations to bee affronted in a + most notorious manner beeing the first time a ministre came to appeare on + a scaffold and that upon soe sinister an occasion. Yet when he came found + a great presse of people. All made way, none lett fall soe much as a + taunting word. Hee came up the Scaffold, great silence all about. Hee + found him lying bound stretched on St Andrew’s Crosse, naked ready for + execution. Hee told him hee was sent for to exhort him to die patiently + and like a Christian. Then immediately they were all surprized to see him + hold up his head wch he lett hang on one side before like a drooping calfe + and speake as loud and clear as the ministre, to whom he said with a + chearful air hee was glad to see him, that hee need not question butt that + hee would dye like a Christian and patiently too. Then hee went and spoke + some places of Scripture to encourage him which he heard with great + attention. They afterward came to mention some things to move him to + contrition, and there hee tooke an occasion to aggravate the horrour of a + Crime of attempting against the King’s person. Hee said hee did not know + what hee meant. For his part hee never had any evill intention against the + Person of the King. + </p> + <p> + The Lieutenant Criminel stood all the while behind Monsieur Daillie and + hearkened to all and prompted Monsr Daillie to aske him if hee had said + there were 10 Ravillacs besides wch would doe the King’s businesse. Hee + protested solemnly hee never said any such words or if hee did hee never + remembred, butt if hee had it was with no intention of Malice. Then + Monsieur Daillie turned to the people and made a discourse in vindication + of those of the Religion that it was no Principle of theirs attempts on + the persons of King[s] butt only loyalty and obedience. This ended hee + went away; hee staid about an hour in all, and immediately as soon as he + was gone, they went to their worke and gave him eleven blows with a barre + and laid him on the wheele. Hee was two houres dying. All about Monsr + Daillie I heard from his own mouth for I went to wait on him because it + was reported hee had said something concerning the King of England butt + hee could tell mee nothing of that. There was a flying report that he + should say going from the Chastelet—The Duke of York hath done mee a + great injury—The Swisses they say resented his [Marsilly’s] taking + and misst butt half an hour to take them which betrayed him [the monk] + after whom they sent. When he was on the wheele hee was heard to say Le + Roy est grand tyrant, Le Roy me traitte d’un facon fort barbare. All that + you read concerning oaths and dying en enrage is false all the oaths hee + used being only asseverations to Monsr Daillie that he was falsely accused + as to the King’s person. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Sr I am etc + + FRANS. VERNON. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Papers, France, vol. 126. + + ——— +</pre> + <p> + Note VI. The Ambassador Montague to Arlington.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Paris: June 22, 1669. +</pre> + <p> + My Lord, + </p> + <p> + . . . . . . + </p> + <p> + The Lieutenant criminel hath proceeded pretty farre with Le Roux Marsilly. + The crime they forme their processe on beeing a rape which he had formerly + committed at Nismes soe that he perceiving but little hopes of his life, + sent word to the King if hee would pardon him he could reveale things to + him which would concerne him more and be of greater consequence to him, + than his destruction. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Papers, France, vol. 126. + + ——— +</pre> + <p> + Note VII. The same to the same. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Paris: June 26, ‘69. +My Lord, +</pre> + <p> + . . . . . . + </p> + <p> + I heard that Marsilly was to be broke on the wheel and I gave order then + to one of my servants to write Mr. Williamson word of it, soe I suppose + you have heard of it already: they hastened his execution for feare he + should have dyed of the hurt he had done himself the day before; they sent + for a minister to him when he was upon the scaffold to see if he would + confesse anything, but he still persisted that he was guilty of nothing + nor DID NOT KNOW WHY HE WAS PUT TO DEATH.... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. THE MYSTERY OF SIR EDMUND BERRY GODFREY + </h2> + <p> + When London was a pleasanter place than it is to-day, when anglers + stretched their legs up Tottenham Hill on their way to fish in the Lee; + when the ‘best stands on Hackney river’ were competed for eagerly by + bottom fishers; when a gentleman in St. Martin’s Lane, between the hedges, + could ‘ask the way to Paddington Woods;’ when a hare haunted Primrose Hill + and was daily pursued by a gallant pack of harriers; enfin, between three + and four on the afternoon of October 17, 1678, two common fellows stepped + into the White House tavern in the fields north of Marylebone, a house + used as a club by a set of Catholic tradesmen. They had been walking in + that region, and, as the October afternoon was drawing in, and rain was + falling, they sought refuge in the White House. It would appear that they + had not the means of assuaging a reasonable thirst, for when they + mentioned that they had noticed a gentleman’s cane, a scabbard, a belt, + and some add a pair of gloves, lying at the edge of a deep dry ditch, + overgrown with thick bush and bramble, the landlord offered the new comers + a shilling to go and fetch the articles.* But the rain was heavy, and + probably the men took the shilling out in ale, till about five o’clock, + when the weather held up for a while. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *A rather different account by the two original finders, Bromwell +and Walters, is in L’Estrange’s Brief History, iii. pp. 97, 98. The +account above is the landlord’s. Lords’ MSS., Hist. MSS. Com., xi. pp. +2, 46, 47. +</pre> + <p> + The delay was the more singular if, as one account avers, the men had not + only observed the cane and scabbard outside of the ditch, on the bank, but + also a dead body within the ditch, under the brambles.* By five o’clock + the rain had ceased, but the tempestuous evening was dark, and it was + night before Constable Brown, with a posse of neighbours on foot and + horseback, reached the ditch. Herein they found the corpse of a man lying + face downwards, the feet upwards hung upon the brambles; thus half + suspended he lay, and the point of a sword stuck out of his back, through + his black camlet coat.** By the lights at the inn, the body was identified + as that of Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey, a Justice of the Peace for + Westminster, who had been missing since Saturday October 12. It is an + undeniable fact that, between two and three o’clock, before the body was + discovered and identified, Dr. Lloyd, Dean of St. Asaph’s, and Bishop + Burnet, had heard that Godfrey had been found in Leicester Fields, with + his own sword in his body. Dr. Lloyd mentioned his knowledge in the + funeral sermon of the dead magistrate. He had the story from a Mr. Angus, + a clergyman, who had it from ‘a young man in a grey coat,’ in a + bookseller’s shop near St. Paul’s, about two o’clock in the afternoon. + Angus hurried to tell Bishop Burnet, who sent him on to Dr. Lloyd.*** + Either the young man in the grey coat knew too much, or a mere rumour, + based on a conjecture that Godfrey had fallen on his own sword, proved to + be accurate by accident; a point to be remembered. According to Roger + Frith, at two o’clock he heard Salvetti, the ambassador of the Duke of + Tuscany, say: ‘Sir E. Godfrey is dead... the young Jesuits are grown + desperate; the old ones would do no such thing.’ This again may have been + a mere guess by Salvetti.**** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pollock, Popish Plot, pp. 95, 96. + + **Brown in Brief History, iii. pp. 212-215, 222. + + ***L’Estrange, Brief History, iii. pp. 87-89. + + ****Lords’ MSS. p. 48, October 24. +</pre> + <p> + In the circumstances of the finding of the body it would have been correct + for Constable Brown to leave it under a guard till daylight and the + arrival of surgical witnesses, but the night was threatening, and Brown + ordered the body to be lifted; he dragged out the sword with difficulty, + and had the dead man carried to the White House Inn. There, under the + candles, the dead man, as we said, was recognised for Sir Edmund Berry + Godfrey, a very well-known justice of the peace and wood and coal dealer. + All this occurred on Thursday, October 17, and Sir Edmund had not been + seen by honest men and thoroughly credible witnesses, at least, since one + o’clock on Saturday, October 12. Then he was observed near his house in + Green Lane, Strand, but into his house he did not go. + </p> + <p> + Who, then, killed Sir Edmund? + </p> + <p> + The question has never been answered, though three guiltless men were + later hanged for the murder. Every conceivable theory has been tried; the + latest is that of Mr. Pollock: Godfrey was slain by ‘the Queen’s + confessor,’ Le Fevre, ‘a Jesuit,’ and some other Jesuits, with lay + assistance.* I have found no proof that Le Fevre was either a Jesuit or + confessor of the Queen. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pollock, The Popish Plot, Duckworth, London, 1903. +</pre> + <p> + As David Hume says, the truth might probably have been discovered, had + proper measures been taken at the moment. But a little mob of horse and + foot had trampled round the ditch in the dark, disturbing the original + traces. The coroner’s jury, which sat long and late, on October 18 and 19, + was advised by two surgeons, who probably, like the rest of the world, + were biassed by the belief that Godfrey had been slain ‘by the bloody + Papists.’ In the reign of mad terror which followed, every one was apt to + accommodate his evidence, naturally, to that belief. If they did not, + then, like the two original finders, Bromwell and Walters, they might be + thrown, heavily ironed, into Newgate.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Lords’ MSS. P. 47, note 1. +</pre> + <p> + But when the Popish Plot was exploded, and Charles II. was firm on his + throne, still more under James II., every one was apt to be biassed in the + opposite direction, and to throw the guilt on the fallen party of Oates, + Bedloe, Dugdale, and the other deeply perjured and infamous informers. + Thus both the evidence of 1678-1680, and that collected in 1684-1687, by + Sir Roger L’Estrange, J.P. (who took great trouble and was allowed access + to the manuscript documents of the earlier inquiries), must be regarded + with suspicion.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *L’Estrange, Brief History of the Times, London, 1687. +</pre> + <p> + The first question is cui bono? who had an interest in Godfrey’s death? + Three parties had an interest, first, the Catholics (IF Godfrey knew their + secrets); next, the managers of the great Whig conspiracy in favour of the + authenticity of Oates’s Popish Plot; last, Godfrey himself, who was of an + hereditary melancholy (his father had suicidal tendencies), and who was + involved in a quandary whence he could scarcely hope to extricate himself + with life and honour. + </p> + <p> + Of the circumstances of Godfrey’s quandary an account is to follow. But, + meanwhile, the theory of Godfrey’s suicide (though Danby is said to have + accepted it) was rejected, probably with good reason (despite the doubts + of L’Estrange, Hume, Sir George Sitwell, and others), by the coroner’s + jury.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Sitwell, The First Whig, Sacheverell. +</pre> + <p> + Privately printed, 1894, Sir George’s book—a most interesting + volume, based on public and private papers—unluckily is introuvable. + Some years have passed since I read a copy which he kindly lent me. + </p> + <p> + The evidence which determined the verdict of murder was that of two + surgeons. They found that the body had been severely bruised, on the + chest, by kicks, blows of a blunt weapon, or by men’s knees. A + sword-thrust had been dealt, but had slipped on a rib; Godfrey’s own sword + had then been passed through the left pap, and out at the back. There was + said to be no trace of the shedding of fresh living blood on the clothes + of Godfrey, or about the ditch. What blood appeared was old, the surgeons + averred, and malodorous, and flowed after the extraction of the sword. + </p> + <p> + L’Estrange (1687) argues at great length, but on evidence collected later, + and given under the Anti-Plot bias, that there was much more ‘bloud’ than + was allowed for at the inquest. But the early evidence ought to be best. + Again, the surgeons declared that Godfrey had been strangled with a cloth + (as the jury found), and his neck dislocated. Bishop Burnet, who viewed + the body, writes (long after the event): ‘A mark was all round his neck, + an inch broad, which showed he was strangled.... And his neck was broken. + All this I saw.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Burnet, History of his own Time, ii. p. 741. 1725. +</pre> + <p> + L’Estrange argued that the neck was not broken (giving an example of a + similar error in the case of a dead child), and that the mark round the + neck was caused by the tightness of the collar and the flow of blood to + the neck, the body lying head downwards. In favour of this view he + produced one surgeon’s opinion. He also declares that Godfrey’s brothers, + for excellent reasons of their own, refused to allow a thorough + post-mortem examination. ‘None of them had ever been opened,’ they said. + Their true motive was that, if Godfrey were a suicide, his estate would be + forfeited to the Crown, a point on which they undoubtedly showed great + anxiety. + </p> + <p> + Evidence was also given to prove that, on Tuesday and Wednesday, October + 15 and 16, Godfrey’s body was not in the ditch. On Tuesday Mr. Forsett, on + Wednesday Mr. Harwood had taken Mr. Forsett’s harriers over the ground, in + pursuit of the legendary hare. They had seen no cane or scabbard; the dogs + had found no corpse. L’Estrange replied that, as to the cane, the men + could not see it if they were on the further side of the bramble-covered + ditch. As to the dogs, they later hunted a wood in which a dead body lay + for six weeks before it was found. L’Estrange discovered witnesses who had + seen Godfrey in St. Martin’s Lane on the fatal Saturday, asking his way to + Paddington Woods, others who had seen him there or met him returning + thence. Again, either he or ‘the Devil in his clothes’ was seen near the + ditch on Saturday afternoon. Again, his clerk, Moore, was seen hunting the + fields near the ditch, for his master, on the Monday afternoon. Hence + L’Estrange argued that Godfrey went to Paddington Woods, on Saturday + morning, to look for a convenient place of suicide: that he could not + screw his courage to the sticking place; that he wandered home, did not + enter his house, roamed out again, and, near Primrose Hill, found the + ditch and ‘the sticking place.’ His rambles, said L’Estrange, could + neither have been taken for business nor pleasure. This is true, if + Godfrey actually took the rambles, but the evidence was not adduced till + several years later; in 1678 the witnesses would have been in great + danger. Still, if we accept L’Estrange’s witnesses for Godfrey’s trip to + Paddington and return, perhaps we ought not to reject the rest.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Brief History, iii. pp. 252, 300, 174, 175; State Trials, viii. pp. +1387, 1392, 1393, 1359-1389. +</pre> + <p> + On the whole, it seems that the evidence for murder, not suicide, is much + the better, though even here absolute certainty is not attained. Granting + Godfrey’s constitutional hereditary melancholy, and the double quandary in + which he stood, he certainly had motives for suicide. He was a man of + humanity and courage, had bravely faced the Plague in London, had + withstood the Court boldly on a private matter (serving a writ, as + Justice, on the King’s physician who owed him money in his capacity as a + coal dealer), and he was lenient in applying the laws against Dissenters + and Catholics. + </p> + <p> + To be lenient was well; but Godfrey’s singular penchant for Jesuits, and + especially for the chief Catholic intriguer in England, was probably the + ultimate cause of his death, whether inflicted by his own hand or those of + others. + </p> + <p> + 2. + </p> + <p> + We now study Godfrey’s quandary. On June 23, 1678, the infamous miscreant + Titus Oates had been expelled from the Jesuit College of St. Omer’s, in + France. There he may readily have learned that the usual triennial + ‘consult’ of English Jesuits was to be held in London on April 24, but + WHERE it was held, namely in the Duke of York’s chambers in St. James’s + Palace, Oates did not know, or did not say. The Duke, by permitting the + Jesuits to assemble in his house, had been technically guilty of treason + in ‘harbouring’ Jesuits, certainly a secret of great importance, as he was + the head and hope of the Catholic cause, and the butt of the Whigs, who + were eager to exclude him from the succession. Oates had scraps of other + genuine news. He returned to London after his expulsion from St. Omer’s, + was treated with incautious kindness by Jesuits there, and, with Tonge, + constructed his monstrous fable of a Popish plot to kill the King and + massacre the Protestant public. In August, Charles was apprised of the + plot, as was Danby, the Lord Treasurer; the Duke of York also knew, how + much he knew is uncertain. The myth was little esteemed by the King. + </p> + <p> + On September 6, Oates went to Godfrey, and swore before him, as a + magistrate, to the truth of a written deposition, as to treason. But + Godfrey was not then allowed to read the paper, nor was it left in his + hands; the King, he was told, had a copy.* The thing might have passed + off, but, as King James II. himself writes, he (being then Duke of York) + ‘press’d the King and Lord Treasurer several times that the letters’ + (letters forged by Oates) ‘might be produced and read, and the business + examined into at the Committee of Foreign Affairs.‘** Mr. Pollock calls + the Duke’s conduct tactless. Like Charles I., in the mystery of ‘the + Incident,’ he knew himself guiltless, and demanded an inquiry. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Kirkby, Complete Narrative, pp. 2, 3, cited by Mr. Pollock. At the +time, it was believed that Godfrey saw the depositions. + + **Clarke’s Life +of James II. i. p. 518. Cited from the King’s original Memoirs. +</pre> + <p> + On September 28, Oates was to appear before the Council. Earlier on that + day he again visited Godfrey, handed to him a copy of his deposition, took + oath to its truth, and carried another copy to Whitehall. As we shall see, + Oates probably adopted this course by advice of one of the King’s + ministers, Danby or another. Oates was now examined before the King, who + detected him in perjury. But he accused Coleman, the secretary of the + Duchess of York, of treasonable correspondence with La Chaise, the + confessor of Louis XIV.: he also said that, on April 24, he himself was + present at the Jesuit ‘consult’ in the White Horse Tavern, Strand, where + they decided to murder the King! This was a lie, but they HAD met on + ordinary business of the Society, on April 24, at the palace of the Duke + of York. Had the Jesuits, when tried, proved this, they would not have + saved their lives, and Oates would merely have sworn that they met AGAIN, + at the White Horse. + </p> + <p> + Godfrey, having Oates’s paper before him, now knew that Coleman was + accused. Godfrey was very intimate with many Jesuits, says Warner, who was + one of them, in his manuscript history.* With Coleman, certainly a + dangerous intriguer, Godfrey was so familiar that ‘it was the form + arranged between them for use when Godfrey was in company and Coleman + wished to see him,’ that Coleman should be announced under the name of Mr. + Clarke.** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Pollock, p. 91, note 1. + + **Ibid. p. 151, note 3. Welden’s evidence before the Lords’ Committee, +House of Lords MSS., p. 48. Mr. Pollock rather overstates the case. We +cannot be certain, from Welden’s words, that Coleman habitually used the +name ‘Clarke’ on such occasions. +</pre> + <p> + It is extraordinary enough to find a rigid British magistrate engaged in + clandestine dealings with an intriguer like Coleman, who, for the purpose, + receives a cant name. If that fact came out in the inquiry into the plot, + Godfrey’s doom was dight, the general frenzy would make men cry for his + blood. But yet more extraordinary was Godfrey’s conduct on September 28. + No sooner had he Oates’s confession, accusing Coleman, in his hands, than + he sent for the accused. Coleman went to the house of a Mr. (or Colonel) + Welden, a friend of Godfrey’s, and to Godfrey it was announced that ‘one + Clarke’ wished to see him there. ‘When they were together at my house they + were reading papers,’ said Welden later, in evidence.* It cannot be + doubted that, after studying Oates’s deposition, Godfrey’s first care was + to give Coleman full warning. James II. tells us this himself, in his + memoirs. ‘Coleman being known to depend on the Duke, Sir Edmund Bury (sic) + Godfrey made choice of him, to send to his Highness an account of Oates’s + and Tongue’s depositions as soon as he had taken them,’ that is, on + September 28.** Apparently the Duke had not the precise details of Oates’s + charges, as they now existed, earlier than September 28, when they were + sent to him by Godfrey. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *See previous note (Pollock, p. 151, note 3.) + + **Life of James II. i, p. 534. +</pre> + <p> + It is Mr. Pollock’s argument that, when Godfrey and Coleman went over the + Oates papers, Coleman would prove Oates’s perjury, and would to this end + let out that, on April 24, the Jesuits met, not as Oates swore, at a + tavern, but at the Duke of York’s house, a secret fatal to the Duke and + the Catholic cause. The Jesuits then slew Godfrey to keep the secret + safe.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pollock, p. 153. +</pre> + <p> + Now, first, I cannot easily believe that Coleman would blab this secret + (quite unnecessarily, for this proof of Oates’s perjury could not be, and + was not, publicly adduced), unless Godfrey was already deep in the + Catholic intrigues. He may have been, judging by his relations with + Coleman. If Godfrey was not himself engaged in Catholic intrigues, Coleman + need only tell him that Oates was not in England in April, and could not + have been, as he swore he was, at the ‘consult.’ Next, Godfrey was not the + man (as Mr. Pollock supposes) to reveal his knowledge to the world, from a + sense of duty, even if the Court ‘stifled the plot.’ Mr. Pollock says: + ‘Godfrey was, by virtue of his position as justice of the peace, a + Government official.... Sooner or later he would certainly reveal it.... + The secret... had come into the hands of just one of the men who could not + afford, even if he might wish, to retain it.‘* Mr. Pollock may conceive, + though I do not find him saying so, that Godfrey communicated Oates’s + charges to Coleman merely for the purpose of ‘pumping’ him and surprising + some secret. If so he acted foolishly. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pollock, p. 154. +</pre> + <p> + In fact, Godfrey was already ‘stifling the plot.’ A Government official, + he was putting Coleman in a posture to fly, and to burn his papers; had he + burned all of them, the plot was effectually stifled. Next, Godfrey could + not reveal the secret without revealing his own misprision of treason. He + would be asked ‘how he knew the secret.’ Godfrey’s lips were thus sealed; + he had neither the wish nor the power to speak out, and so his knowledge + of the secret, if he knew it, was innocuous to the Jesuits. ‘What is it + nearer?’ Coleman was reported, by a perjured informer, to have asked.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Trials, vii. 1319. Trial of Lord Stafford, 1680. +</pre> + <p> + To this point I return later. Meanwhile, let it be granted that Godfrey + knew the secret from Coleman, and that, though, since Godfrey could not + speak without self-betrayal—though it was ‘no nearer’—still + the Jesuits thought well to mak sikker and slay him. + </p> + <p> + Still, what is the evidence that Godfrey had a mortal secret? Mr. Pollock + gives it thus: ‘He had told Mr. Wynnel that he was master of a dangerous + secret, which would be fatal to him. “Oates,” he said, “is sworn and is + perjured.”’ * These sentences are not thus collocated in the original. The + secret was not, as from Mr. Pollock’s arrangement it appears to be, that + Oates was perjured. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pollock, p. 150. +</pre> + <p> + The danger lay, not in knowledge that Oates was perjured—all the + Council knew the King to have discovered that. ‘Many believed it,’ says + Mr. Pollock. ‘It was not an uncommon thing to say.‘* The true peril, on + Mr. Pollock’s theory, was Godfrey’s possession of PROOF that Oates was + perjured, that proof involving the secret of the Jesuit ‘consult’ of April + 14, AT THE DUKE OF YORK’S HOUSE. But, by a singular oversight, Mr. Pollock + quotes only part of what Godfrey said to Wynell (or Wynnel) about his + secret. He does not give the whole of the sentence uttered by Wynell. The + secret, of which Godfrey was master, on the only evidence, Wynell’s, had + nothing to do with the Jesuit meeting of April 24. Wynell is one of + L’Estrange’s later witnesses. His words are: + </p> + <p> + Godfrey: ‘The (Catholic) Lords are as innocent as you or I. Coleman will + die, but not the Lords.’ + </p> + <p> + Wynell: ‘If so, where are we then?’ + </p> + <p> + Godfrey: ‘Oates is sworn and is perjured.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * * * +</pre> + <p> + ‘Upon Wynell’s asking Sir Edmund some time why he was so melancholy, his + answer has been, “he was melancholy because he was master of a dangerous + secret that would be fatal to him, THAT HIS SECURITY WAS OATE’S + DEPOSITION, THAT THE SAID OATES HAD FIRST DECLARED IT TO A PUBLIC + MINISTER, AND SECONDLY THAT HE CAME TO SIR EDMUND BY HIS (the Minister’s) + DIRECTION.” ** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pollock, p. 152. + + **L’Estrange, part iii. p. 187. +</pre> + <p> + We must accept all of Mr. Wynell’s statement or none; we cannot accept, + like Mr. Pollock, only Godfrey’s confession of owning a dangerous secret, + without Godfrey’s explanation of the nature of the danger. Against THAT + danger (his knowing and taking no action upon what Oates had deposed) + Godfrey’s ‘security’ was Oates’s other deposition, that his information + was already in the Minister’s hands, and that he had come to Godfrey by + the Minister’s orders. The invidiousness of knowing and not acting on + Oates’s ‘dangerous secret,’ Godfrey hoped, fell on the Minister rather + than on himself. And it did fall on Danby, who was later accused of + treason on this very ground, among others. Such is Wynell’s evidence, true + or false. C’est a prendre ou a laisser in bulk, and in bulk is of no value + to Mr. Pollock’s argument. + </p> + <p> + That Godfrey was in great fear after taking Oates’s deposition, and + dealing with Coleman, is abundantly attested. But of what was he afraid, + and of whom? L’Estrange says, of being made actual party to the plot, and + not of ‘bare misprision’ only, the misprision of not acting on Oates’s + information.* It is to prove this point that L’Estrange cites Wynell as + quoted above. Bishop Burnet reports that, to him, Godfrey said ‘that he + believed he himself should be knocked on the head.‘** Knocked on the head + by whom? By a frightened Protestant mob, or by Catholic conspirators? To + Mr. Robinson, an old friend, he said, ‘I do not fear them if they come + fairly, and I shall not part with my life tamely.’ Qu’ils viennent! as + Tartarin said, but who are ‘they’? Godfrey said that he had ‘taken the + depositions very unwillingly, and would fain have had it done by + others.... I think I shall have little thanks for my pains.... Upon my + conscience I believe I shall be the first martyr.‘*** He could not expect + thanks from the Catholics: it was from the frenzied Protestants that he + expected ‘little thanks.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *L’Estrange, iii. p. 187. + + **Burnet, ii. p. 740. + + ***State Trials, vii. pp. 168, 169. +</pre> + <p> + Oates swore, and, for once, is corroborated, that Godfrey complained ‘of + receiving affronts from some great persons (whose names I name not now) + for being so zealous in this business.’ If Oates, by ‘great persons,’ + means the Duke of York, it was in the Duke’s own cause that Godfrey had + been ‘zealous,’ sending him warning by Coleman. Oates added that others + threatened to complain to Parliament, which was to meet on October 21, + that Godfrey had been ‘too remiss.’ Oates was a liar, but Godfrey, in any + case, was between the Devil and the deep sea. As early as October 24, Mr. + Mulys attested, before the Lords, Godfrey’s remark, ‘he had been blamed by + some great men for not having done his duty, and by other great men for + having done too much.’ Mulys corroborates Oates.* If Godfrey knew a secret + dangerous to the Jesuits (which, later, was a current theory), he might be + by them silenced for ever. If his conduct, being complained of, was + examined into by Parliament, misprision of treason was the lowest at which + his offence could be rated. Never was magistrate in such a quandary. But + we do not know, in the state of the evidence, which of his many perils he + feared most, and his possession of ‘a dangerous secret’ (namely, the + secret of the consult of April 24) is a pure hypothesis. It is not + warranted, but refuted, by Godfrey’s own words as reported by Wynell, + when, unlike Mr. Pollock, we quote Wynell’s whole sentence on the subject. + (see previous exchange between Godfrey and Wynell.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Lords’ MSS., P. 48. +</pre> + <p> + 3. + </p> + <p> + The theories of Godfrey’s death almost defy enumeration. For suicide, + being a man of melancholic temperament, he had reasons as many and as good + as mortal could desire. That he was murdered for not being active enough + in prosecuting the plot, is most improbable. That he was taken off by + Danby’s orders, for giving Coleman and the Duke of York early warning, is + an absurd idea, for Danby could have had him on THAT score by ordinary + process of law. That he was slain by Oates’s gang, merely to clinch the + fact that a plot there veritably was, is improbable. At the same time, + Godfrey had been calling Oates a perjurer: he KNEW that Oates was + forsworn. This was an unsafe thing for any man to say, but when the man + was the magistrate who had read Oates’s deposition, he invited danger. + Such were the chances that Godfrey risked from the Plot party. The + Catholics, on the other hand, if they were aware that Godfrey possessed + the secret of the Jesuit meeting of April 24, and if they deemed him too + foolish to keep the secret in his own interest, could not but perceive + that to murder him was to play into the hands of the Whigs by clinching + the belief in a Popish plot. Had they been the murderers, they would + probably have taken his money and rings, to give the idea that he had been + attacked and robbed by vulgar villains. If they ‘were not the damnedest + fools’ (thus freely speaks L’Estrange), they would not have taken + deliberate steps to secure the instant discovery of the corpse. Whoever + pitched Godfrey’s body into the bramble-covered ditch, meant it to be + found, for his cane, scabbard, and so on were deliberately left outside of + the ditch. Your wily Jesuit would have caused the body to disappear, + leaving the impression that Godfrey had merely absconded, as he had the + best reasons for doing. On the other hand, Oates’s gang would not, if they + first strangled Godfrey, have run his own sword through his body, as if he + had committed suicide—unless, indeed, they calculated that this + would be a likely step for your wily Jesuit to take, in the circumstances. + Again, an educated ‘Jesuit,’ like Le Fevre, ‘the Queen’s confessor,’ would + know that the sword trick was futile; even a plain man, let alone a + surgeon, could detect a wound inflicted on a corpse four or five days old. + </p> + <p> + Two other theories existed, first, that Godfrey hanged himself, and that + his brothers and heirs did the sword trick, to suggest that he had not + committed suicide by strangulation, but had been set on and stabbed with + his own sword. In that case, of course, the brothers would have removed + his rings and money, to prove that he had been robbed. The other theory, + plausible enough, held that Godfrey was killed by Catholics, NOT because + he took Oates’s deposition (which he was bound to do), but because he + officiously examined a number of persons to make discoveries. The + Attorney-General at the trial of Godfrey’s alleged murderers (February + 1679), declared that Sir Edmund had taken such examinations: ‘we have + proof that he had some... perhaps some more than are now extant’ * This + theory, then, held that he was taken off to prevent his pursuing his + zealous course, and to seize the depositions which he had already taken. + When this was stated to Charles II., on November 7, 1678, by the perjured + Bedloe, the King naturally remarked: ‘The parties were still alive’ (the + deponents) ‘to give the informations.’ Bedloe answered, that the papers + were to be seized ‘in hopes the second informations taken from the parties + would not have agreed with the first, and so the thing would have been + disproved.‘** This was monstrously absurd, for the slayers of Godfrey + could not have produced the documents of which they had robbed him. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Trials, vii. p. 163. + + **Pollock, p. 385. +</pre> + <p> + The theory that Sir Edmund was killed because Coleman had told him too + many secrets did not come to general knowledge till the trial of Lord + Stafford in 1680. The hypothesis—Godfrey slain because, through + Coleman, he knew too many Catholic secrets—is practically that of + Mr. Pollock. It certainly does supply a motive for Godfrey’s + assassination. Hot-headed Catholics who knew, or suspected, that Godfrey + knew too much, MAY have killed him for that reason, or for the purpose of + seizing his papers, but it is improbable that Catholics of education, well + aware that, if he blabbed, Godfrey must ruin himself, would have put their + hands into his blood, on the mere chance that, if left alive, he might + betray both himself and them. + </p> + <p> + 4. + </p> + <p> + It is now necessary to turn backward a little and see what occurred + immediately after the meeting of Coleman and Godfrey on September 28. On + that day, Oates gave his lying evidence before the Council: he was allowed + to go on a Jesuit drive, with warrants and officers; he caught several of + the most important Jesuits. On September 29, the King heard his tale, and + called him a ‘lying knave.’ None the less he was sent on another drive, + and, says Mr. Pollock, ‘before dawn most the Jesuits of eminence in London + lay in gaol.’ But Le Fevre, ‘the Queen’s confessor,’ and the other + ‘Jesuits’ whom Mr. Pollock suspects of Godfrey’s murder, were not taken. + Is it likely (it is, of course, possible) that they stayed on in town, and + killed Godfrey twelve days later? + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Coleman, thanks to Godfrey’s warning, had most of September 28, + the night of that day, and September 29, wherein to burn his papers and + abscond. He did neither; if he destroyed some papers, he left others in + his rooms, letters which were quite good enough to hang him for high + treason, as the law stood. Apparently Coleman did not understand his + danger. On Sunday night, September 29, a warrant for his apprehension was + issued, and for the seizure of his papers. ‘He came voluntarily in on + Monday morning,’ having heard of the warrant. This is not the conduct of a + man who knows himself guilty. He met the charges with disdain, and made so + good a case that, instead of being sent to Newgate, he was merely + entrusted to a messenger, who was told ‘to be very civil to Mr. Coleman.’ + </p> + <p> + Charles II. went to the Newmarket Autumn Meeting, Coleman’s papers were + examined, and ‘sounded so strange to the Lords’ that they sent him to + Newgate (October 1). The papers proved that Coleman, years before, had + corresponded (as Oates had sworn) with the confessor of Louis XIV. and had + incurred the technical guilt of treason. Either Coleman did not understand + the law and the measure of his offence (as seems probable), or he thought + his papers safely hidden. But the heather was on fire. The belief in + Oates’s impossible Plot blazed up, ‘hell was let loose’.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Trials, vii. p. 29. +</pre> + <p> + Coleman had thought himself safe, says James II., then Duke of York. ‘The + Duke perceiving’ (from Godfrey’s information of September 28) ‘Oates had + named Coleman, bade him look to himself, for he was sure to find no + favour, and therefore, if he had any papers that might hurt him, to secure + them immediately; but he, apprehending no danger, let them be seized, + however kept close himself, and sent to advise with the Duke whether he + should deliver himself up or not. The Duke replyd, “He knew best what was + in his papers; if they contain’d any expression which could be wrested to + an ill sence, he had best not appear, otherwise the surrendering himself + would be an argument of innocency.” He did accordingly,’ and was condemned + in November, and hanged.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Life of James II., i. p. 534. +</pre> + <p> + King James’s tale agrees with the facts of Coleman’s surrender. ‘He came + in voluntarily.’ He did not appreciate the resources of civilisation at + the service of the English law of treason: he had dabbled in intrigue + without taking counsel’s advice, and knowing for certain that Oates was an + inconsistent liar, Coleman took his chance with a light heart. However, + not only did some of his letters bring him (though he could not understand + the fact) within the elastic law of treason; but Oates’s evidence was + accepted when conspicuously false; Coleman was not allowed to produce his + diary and prove an alibi as to one of Oates’s accusations, and a new + witness, Bedloe, a perjurer who rivalled Oates, had sprung up out of the + filth of London streets. So Coleman swung for it, as Godfrey, according to + Wynell, had prophesied that he would. + </p> + <p> + Coleman’s imprisonment began twelve days before Godfrey’s disappearance. + At Coleman’s trial, late in November, a mere guess was given that Godfrey + was slain to prevent him (a Protestant martyr) from blabbing Catholic + secrets. This cause of Godfrey’s taking off was not alleged by Bedloe. + This man, a notorious cosmopolitan rogue, who had swindled his way through + France and Spain, was first heard of in the Godfrey case at the end of + October. He wrote to the Secretaries of State from Bristol (L’Estrange + says from Newbury on his way to Bristol), offering information, as pardon + and reward had been promised to contrite accomplices in the murder. He + came to town, and, on November 7, gave evidence before the King. Bedloe + gave himself out as a Jesuit agent; concerning the Plot he added monstrous + inventions to those of Oates. + </p> + <p> + ‘As to Sir Edmund Godfrey; was promised 2,000 guineas to be in it by Le + Fere’ (Le Fevre, ‘the Queen’s confessor),’ [by] ‘my Lord Bellasis + gentleman, AND THE YOUNGEST OF THE WAITERS IN THE QUEENE’S CHAPEL, IN A + PURPLE GOWN, and to keep the people orderly.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *See Pollock, pp. 384, 387. The report is from Secretary Coventry’s +MSS., at Longleat. The evidence as to Bedloe’s deposition before the +King (November 7) is in a confused state. Mr. Pollock prints (pp. 383, +384, cf. p. 110) a document from ‘Brit. Mus. Addit. MS. 11058, f. 244.’ +This is also given, with the same erroneous reference, by Mr. Foley, in +Records of the English Province of the Society of Jesus, vol. v. p. 30, +note. The right reference is 11055. The document is quite erroneously +printed, with variations in error, by Mr. Foley and Mr. Pollock. Bedloe +really said that Godfrey was lured into Somerset House Yard, not into +‘some house yard’ (Foley), or ‘into a house yard’ (Pollock). Bedloe, so +far, agreed with Prance, but, in another set of notes on his deposition +(Longleat MSS., Coventry Papers, xi. 272-274, Pollock, 384-387), he +made Somerset House the scene of the murder. There are other errors. Mr. +Pollock and Mr. Foley make Bedloe accuse Father Eveley, S.J., in whom +I naturally recognised Father Evers or Every, who was then at Tixall in +Staffordshire. The name in the MS. is ‘Welch,’ not Eveley. The MS. was +manifestly written not before September 12. It does not appear that +Bedloe, on November 7, knew the plot as invented by Oates, on which +compare Mr. Pollock, p. 110, who thinks that ‘it is quite possible that +Charles II. deceived him,’ Bishop Burnet, ‘intentionally,’ on this head +(Burnet, ii. 745-746, 1725). By printing ‘he acquainted’ instead of ‘he +acquainteth the Lords,’ in the British Museum MS., and by taking the +document, apparently, to be of November 7, Mr. Pollock has been led +to an incorrect conclusion. I am obliged to Father Gerard, S.J., for a +correct transcript of the British Museum MS.; see also Note iii., ‘The +Jesuit Murderers,’ at the end of this chapter, and Father Gerard’s The +Popish Plot and its Latest Historian (Longman’s, 1903). +</pre> + <p> + Bedloe here asserts distinctly that one accomplice was an official of the + Queen’s chapel, in her residence, Somerset House: a kind of verger, in a + purple gown. This is highly important, for the man whom he later pretended + to recognise as this accomplice was not a ‘waiter,’ did not ‘wear a purple + gown;’ and, by his own account, ‘was not in the chapel once a month.’ + Bedloe’s recognition of him, therefore, was worthless. He said that + Godfrey was smothered with a pillow, or two pillows, in a room in Somerset + House, for the purpose of securing ‘the examinations’ that Godfrey had + taken. ‘Coleman and Lord Bellasis advised to destroy him.’ His informant + was Le Fevre. One Walsh (a ‘Jesuit’), Le Fevre, Lord Bellasis’s man, and + ‘the chapel keeper’ did the deed. The chapel keeper carried him’ (Godfrey) + ‘off.’ ‘HE DID NOT SEE HIM’ (Godfrey) ‘AFTER HE WAS DEAD.’ + </p> + <p> + On the following day Bedloe told his tale at the bar of the House of + Lords. He now, contradicting himself, swore THAT HE SAW GODFREY’S DEAD + BODY IN SOMERSET HOUSE. He was offered 2,000 guineas to help to carry him + off. This was done by chairmen, ‘retainers to Somerset House,’ on Monday + night (October 14).* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pollock, p. 387, Lords’ Journals, xiii. p. 343. +</pre> + <p> + On that night, Bedloe saw Samuel Atkins, Mr. Pepys’s clerk, beside the + corpse, by the light of a dark lantern. Atkins had an alibi, so Bedloe + shuffled, and would not swear to him. + </p> + <p> + On November 14, before the Lords’ Committee, Bedloe again gave evidence. + The 2,100 pounds were now 4,000 pounds offered to Bedloe, by Le Fevre, + early in October, to kill a man. The attendant in the Queen’s chapel was + at the scene (a pure figment) of the corpse exposed under the dark + lantern. The motive of the murder was to seize Godfrey’s examinations, + which he said he had sent to Whitehall. At a trial which followed in + February 1679, Mr. Robinson, who had known Godfrey for some forty years, + deposed that he had said to him, ‘I understand you have taken several + examinations.’ ‘Truly,’ said he, ‘I have.’ ‘Pray, Sir, have you the + examinations about you, will you please to let me see them?’ ‘No, I have + them not, I delivered them to a person of quality.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Trials, vii. 168. +</pre> + <p> + This person of quality was not the Duke of York, for it may be noted that, + on the day before his disappearance, Godfrey had, in fact, received back + from the Lord Chief Justice the original copy of Oates’s depositions. This + copy was found in his house, after his death, and handed over by his + brother to the Government.* To get the examinations was always the motive + of the murder, with Bedloe. The hour of Godfrey’s death was now 2 P.M.; + now 3, or 4, or 5 P.M., on October 12. The body was hidden in various + rooms of Somerset House, or under the high altar in the Queen’s Chapel. + The discrepancies never affected the faith given to Bedloe. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Lords’ MSS., Hist. MSS. Commission Report, xi. Appendix, part ii., +pp. 2,3. +</pre> + <p> + At the end of December came in a new accomplice-witness. This was an + Irishman, Miles Prance, a silversmith, who had a business among Catholics, + and worked for the Queen’s Chapel. Unlike all the other informers, Prance + had hitherto been an ordinary fellow enough, with a wife and family, not a + swindling debauchee. He was arrested on December 21, on information given + by John Wren, a lodger of his, with whom he had quarrelled. Wren had + noticed that Prance lay out of his own house while Godfrey was missing, + which Prance admitted to be true.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Op. cit. p. 51. Prance both said, and denied, that he slept out +while Sir Edmund was missing. He was flurried and self-contradictory. +</pre> + <p> + Bedloe, passing through a room in the House of Commons, saw Prance in + custody, and at once pretended to recognise in him the ‘chapel keeper,’ + ‘under waiter,’ or ‘man in the purple gown,’ whom he had seen by the light + of a dark lantern, beside Godfrey’s body, in a room of Somerset House, on + October 14. ‘There was very little light’ on that occasion, Bedloe had + said, and he finally refused, we saw, to swear to Atkins, who had an + alibi. But, as to Prance, he said: ‘This is one of the rogues that I saw + with a dark lantern about the body of Sir Edmund, but he was then in a + periwig.‘* The periwig was introduced in case Prance had an alibi: Oates + had used the same ‘hedge,’ ‘a periwig doth disguise a man very much,’ in + Coleman’s case.** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *L’Estrange, iii. pp. 52, 53, 65. + + **State Trials, vii. 27. +</pre> + <p> + What was Bedloe’s recognition of Prance worth? Manifestly nothing! He had + probably seen Prance (not as a ‘waiter’) in the Queen’s Chapel. Now he + found him in custody. Cautious as regards Atkins, six weeks earlier, + Bedloe was emboldened now by a train of successes. He had sworn away + Coleman’s life. His self-contradictions had been blindly swallowed. If + Prance could prove an alibi, what was that to Bedloe? The light of the + dark lantern had been very bad; the rogue, under that light, had worn a + periwig, which ‘doth disguise a man very much.’ Bedloe could safely say + that he had made an innocent error. Much worse blunders had not impaired + his credit; later he made much worse blunders, undetected. He saw his + chance and took it. + </p> + <p> + Prance, who denied everything, was hurried to Newgate, and thrown, without + bed or covering, into the freezing ‘condemned hole,’ where he lay + perishing of cold through the night of December 21, December 22, and the + night of that day. On December 23, he offered, no wonder, to confess. He + was examined by the Lords, and (December 24) by the Council. + </p> + <p> + Prance knew, all the world knew, the details about Godfrey’s bruises; the + state of his neck, and the sword-thrusts. He knew that Bedloe had located + the murder in Somerset House. As proclamations for the men accused by + Bedloe had long been out, he MAY have guessed that Le Fevre, Walsh, and + Pritchard were wanted for Godfrey’s murder, and had been denounced by + Bedloe. But this is highly improbable, for nothing about Godfrey’s murder + is hinted at in the proclamation for Le Fevre, Walsh, and Pritchard.* We + have no reason, then, to suppose that Prance knew who the men were that + Bedloe had accused; consequently he had to select other victims, innocent + men of his acquaintance. But, as a tradesman of the Queen, Prance knew her + residence, Somerset House, the courts, outer stairs, passages, and so on. + He knew that Bedloe professed to have recognised him there in the scene of + the dark lantern. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Lords’ Journals, xiii. p. 346; Lords’ MSS., p. 59. +</pre> + <p> + Prance had thus all the materials of a confession ready made, but not of a + confession identical with Bedloe’s. He was ‘one of the most acute and + audacious of the Jesuit agents,’ says Mr. Pollock.* Yet Mr. Pollock argues + that for Prance to tell the tale which he did tell, in his circumstances + of cold and terror, required a most improbable ‘wealth of mental + equipment,’ ‘phenomenal powers of memory, imagination, and coolness,’ if + the tale was false.** Therefore Prance’s story of the murder was true, + except in the details as to the men whom he accused. On December 24, he + was taken to the places which he described (certainly lying in his tale), + and preserved consistency, though, after long search, he could not find + one of the rooms in which he said that the corpse was laid.*** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pollock, p.166. + + **Ibid. p. 146. + + ***Lords’ Journals, xii. pp. 436-438. +</pre> + <p> + As Prance, by Mr. Pollock’s theory, was one of the most acute of Jesuit + agents, and as he had all the materials, and all the knowledge necessary + for a confession, he had, obviously, no difficulty in making up his + evidence. Even by Mr. Pollock’s showing, he was cool and intellectual + enough; for, on that showing, he adapted into his narrative, very subtly, + circumstances which were entirely false. If, as Mr. Pollock holds, Prance + was astute enough to make a consistent patchwork of fact and lie, how can + it be argued that, with the information at his command, he could not + invent a complete fiction? + </p> + <p> + Again, Prance, by misstating dates wildly, hoped, says Mr. Pollock, to + escape as a mere liar.* But, when Prance varied in almost every detail of + time, place, motive, and person from Bedloe, Mr. Pollock does not see that + his own explanation holds for the variations. If Prance wished to escape + as a babbling liar, he could not do better than contradict Bedloe. He DID, + but the Protestant conscience swallowed the contradictions. But again, if + Prance did not know the details of Bedloe’s confession, how could he + possibly agree with it? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pollock, p. 160. +</pre> + <p> + The most essential point of difference was that Bedloe accused ‘Jesuits,’ + Le Fevre, Walsh, and Pritchard, who had got clean away. Prance accused two + priests, who escaped, and three hangers on of Somerset House, Hill, Berry + (the porter), and Green. All three were hanged, and all three confessedly + were innocent. Mr. Pollock reasons that Prance, if guilty (and he believes + him guilty), ‘must have known the real authors’ of the crime, that is, the + Jesuits accused by Bedloe. ‘He must have accused the innocent, not from + necessity, but from choice, and in order to conceal the guilty.’ ‘He knew + Bedloe to have exposed the real murderers, and... he wished to shield + them.‘* How did he know whom Bedloe had exposed? How could he even know + the exact spot, a room in Somerset House, where Bedloe placed the murder? + Prance placed it in Somerset YARD. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pollock, p. 148. +</pre> + <p> + It is just as easy to argue, on Mr. Pollock’s other line, that Prance + varied from Bedloe in order that the inconsistencies might prove his own + falsehood. But we have no reason to suppose that Prance did know the + details of Bedloe’s confession, as to the motive of the murder, the hour, + the exact spot, and the names of the criminals. Later he told L’Estrange a + palpable lie: Bedloe’s confession had been shown to him before he made his + own. If that were true, he purposely contradicted Bedloe in detail. But + Mr. Pollock rejects the myth. Then how did Prance know the details given + by Bedloe?* Ignorant of Bedloe’s version, except in two or three points, + Prance could not but contradict it. He thus could not accuse Bedloe’s + Jesuits. He did not name other men, as Mr. Pollock holds, to shield the + Jesuits. Practically they did not need to be shielded. Jesuits with seven + weeks’ start of the law were safe enough. Even if they were caught, were + guilty, and had the truth extracted from them, involving Prance, the truth + about HIM would come out, whether he now denounced them or not. But he did + not know that Bedloe had denounced them. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pollock, pp. 142, 143. +</pre> + <p> + Mr. Pollock’s theory of the relation of Bedloe to Godfrey’s murder is + this: Bedloe had no hand in the murder, and never saw the corpse. The + crime was done in Somerset House, ‘the Queen’s confessor,’ Father Le + Fevre, S.J., having singular facilities for entering, with his friends, + and carrying a dead body out ‘through a private door’—a door not + mentioned by any witnesses, nor proved to exist by the evidence of a + chart. This Le Fevre, with Walsh, lived in the same house as Bedloe. From + them, Bedloe got his information. ‘It is easy to conjecture how he could + have obtained it. Walsh and Le Fevre were absent from their rooms, for a + considerable part of the nights of Saturday and Wednesday, October 12 and + 16. Bedloe’s suspicions must have been aroused, and, either by threats or + cajolery, he wormed part of the secret out of his friends. He obtained a + general idea of the way in which the murder had been committed and of the + persons concerned in it. One of these was a frequenter of the Queen’s + chapel whom he knew by sight. He thought him to be a subordinate official + there.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pollock, pp. 157, 158. +</pre> + <p> + On this amount of evidence Bedloe invented his many contradictions. Why he + did not cleave to the facts imparted to him by his Jesuit friends, we do + not learn. ‘A general idea of the way in which the murder was committed’ + any man could form from the state of Godfrey’s body. There was no reason + why Walsh and Le Fevre ‘should be absent from their rooms on a + considerable part of the night of Saturday 12,’ and so excite Bedloe’s + suspicions, for, on his versions, they slew Godfrey at 2 P.M., 5 P.M., or + any hour between. No proof is given that they were in their lodgings, or + in London, during the fortnight which followed Oates’s three successful + Jesuit drives of September 28-30. In all probability they had fled from + London before Godfrey’s murder. No evidence can I find that Bedloe’s + Jesuits were at their lodgings on October 12-16. They were not sought for + there, but at Somerset House.* Two sisters, named Salvin, were called + before the Lords’ Committee, and deposed that Bedloe and Le Fevre had + twice been at their house when Walsh said mass there.** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Lords’ Journals, xiii. pp. 343 346. + + **Ibid. p. 353. +</pre> + <p> + That is all! Bedloe had some acquaintance with the men he accused; so had + Prance with those he denounced. Prance’s victims were innocent, and + against Bedloe’s there is not, so far, evidence to convict a cat on for + stealing cream. He recognised Prance, therefore he really knew the + murderers—that is all the argument. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pollock’s theory reposes on the belief, rejected by L’Estrange, that + the Jesuits ‘were the damnedest fools.’ Suppose them guilty. The first + step of a Jesuit, or of any gentleman, about to commit a deliberate deeply + planned murder, is to secure an alibi. Le Fevre did not, or, when + questioned (on Mr. Pollock’s theory) by Bedloe, he would have put him off + with his alibi. Again, ‘a Jesuit,’ ‘the Queen’s confessor,’ does not do + his murders in the Queen’s house: no gentleman does. But, if Le Fevre did + commit this solecism, he would have told Bedloe a different story; if he + confessed to him at all. These things are elementary. + </p> + <p> + Prance’s confession, as to the share of Hill, Berry, and Green in the + murder, was admittedly false. On one point he stumbled always: ‘Were there + no guards at the usual places at the time of the carrying on this work?’ + he was asked by one of the Lords on December 24,1678. He mumbled, ‘I did + not take notice of any.‘* He never, on later occasions, could answer this + question about the sentries. Prance saw no sentries, and there is nowhere + any evidence that the sentries were ever asked whether they saw either + Prance, Le Fevre, or Godfrey, in Somerset House or the adjacent Somerset + Yard, on October 12. They were likely to know both the Queen’s silversmith + and ‘the Queen’s confessor,’ and Godfrey they may have known. Prance and + the sentries had, for each other, the secret of fern-seed, they walked + invisible. This, of itself, is fatal to Prance’s legend. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Lords’ Journals, xiii. p. 438. +</pre> + <p> + No sooner had Prance confessed than he withdrew his confession. He prayed + to be taken before the King, knelt, and denied all. Next day he did the + same before the Council. He was restored to his pleasant quarters in + Newgate, and recanted his recantation. He again withdrew, and maintained + that his confession was false, before King and Council (December 30), ‘He + knows nothing in the world of all he has said.’ The Lord Chancellor + proposed ‘to have him have the rack.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Papers, Domestic, Charles II., Dec. 30, 1678, Bundle 408. +</pre> + <p> + Probably he ‘did not have the rack,’ but he had the promise of it, and + nearly died of cold, ironed, in the condemned cell. ‘He was almost dead + with the disorder in his mind, and with cold in his body,’ said Dr. Lloyd, + who visited him, to Burnet. Lloyd got a bed and a fire for the wretch, who + revived, and repeated his original confession.* Lloyd believed in his + sincerity, says Burnet, writing many years later. In 1686, Lloyd denied + that he believed. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Burnet, ii. p. 773. +</pre> + <p> + Prance’s victims, Hill, Berry, and Green, were tried on February 5, 1679. + Prance told his story. On one essential point he professed to know + nothing. Where was Godfrey from five to nine o’clock, the hour when he was + lured into Somerset House? He was dogged in fields near Holborn to + somewhere unknown in St. Clement’s. It is an odd fact that, though at the + dinner hour, one o’clock, close to his own house, and to that of Mr. + Welden (who had asked him to dine), Sir Edmund seems to have dined + nowhere. Had he done so, even in a tavern, he must have been recognised. + Probably Godfrey was dead long before 9 P.M. Mr. Justice Wild pressed + Prance on this point of where Godfrey was; he could say nothing.* Much + evidence (on one point absurd) was collected later by L’Estrange, and is + accepted by North in his ‘Examen,’ to prove that, by some of his friends, + Godfrey was reckoned ‘missing’ in the afternoon of the fatal Saturday.** + But no such evidence was wanted when Hill, Berry, and Green were tried.*** + The prosecution, with reckless impudence, mingled Bedloe’s and Prance’s + contradictory lies, and accused Bedloe’s ‘Jesuits,’ Walsh and Le Fevre, in + company with Prance’s priests, Gerald and Kelly.**** Bedloe, in his story + before the jury, involved himself in even more contradictory lies than + usual. But, even now, he did not say anything that really implicated the + men accused by Prance, while Prance said not a word, in Court or + elsewhere, about the men accused by Bedloe.***** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Trials, vii. 177. + + **This is said in 1681 in A Letter to Miles Prance. + + ***North, Examen, p. 201. + + ****State Trials, vii, 178 (Speech of Serjeant Stringer). + +</pre> + <hr /> + <p> + Lord Chief Justice Scroggs actually told the jury that ‘for two witnesses + to agree as to many material circumstances with one another, that had + never conversed together, is impossible.... They agree so in all things.‘* + The two witnesses did not agree at all, as we have abundantly seen, but, + in the fury of Protestant fear, any injustice could be committed, and + every kind of injustice was committed at this trial. Prance later pleaded + guilty on a charge of perjury, and well he might. Bedloe died, and went to + his own place with lies in his mouth. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Trials, vii. 216. +</pre> + <p> + 5. + </p> + <p> + If I held a brief against the Jesuits, I should make much of a point which + Mr. Pollock does not labour. Just about the time when Prance began + confessing, in London, December 24, 1678, one Stephen Dugdale, styled + ‘gentleman,’ was arrested in Staffordshire, examined, and sent up to town. + He was a Catholic, and had been in Lord Aston’s service, but was dismissed + for dishonesty. In the country, at Tixall, he knew a Jesuit named Evers, + and through Evers he professed to know much about the mythical plot to + kill the King, and the rest of the farrago of lies. At the trial of the + five Jesuits, in June 1679, Dugdale told what he had told privately, under + examination, on March 21, 1679.* This revelation was that Harcourt, a + Jesuit, had written from town to Evers, a Jesuit at Tixall, by the night + post of Saturday, October 12, 1678, ‘This very night Sir Edmundbury (sic) + Godfrey is dispatched.’ The letter reached Tixall by Monday, October 14. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Fitzherbert MSS; State Trials, vii. 338. +</pre> + <p> + Mr. Pollock writes: ‘Dugdale was proved to have spoken on Tuesday, October + 15, 1678, of the death of a justice of the peace in Westminster, which + does not go far.‘* But if this is PROVED, it appears to go all the way; + unless we can explain Dugdale’s information without involving the guilty + knowledge of Harcourt. The proof that Dugdale, on Tuesday, October 15, + spoke at Tixall of Godfrey’s death, two days before Godfrey’s body was + found near London, stands thus: at the trial of the Jesuits a gentleman, + Chetwyn, gave evidence that, on the morning of Tuesday, October 15, a Mr. + Sanbidge told him that Dugdale had talked at an alehouse about the slaying + of a justice of peace of Westminster. Chetwyn was certain of the date, + because on that day he went to Litchfield races. At Litchfield he stayed + till Saturday, October 19, when he heard from London of the discovery of + Godfrey’s body.** Chetwyn asked Dugdale about this, when Dugdale was sent + to town, in December 1678. Dugdale said he remembered the facts, but, as + he did not report them to his examiners (a singular omission), he was not + called as a witness at the trial of Berry, Green, and Hill. Chetwyn later + asked Dugdale why he was not called, and said: ‘Pray let me see the copy + of your deposition sworn before the Council. He showed it me, and there + was not a syllable of it, that I could see, BUT AFTERWARDS IT APPEARED TO + BE THERE.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pollock, p. 341, note 2. + + **State Trials, vii. 339, 341, +</pre> + <p> + Lord Chief Justice. ‘That is not very material, if the thing itself be + true.’ + </p> + <p> + Chetwyn. ‘But its not being there made me remember it.’ + </p> + <p> + Its later appearance, ‘there,’ shows how depositions were handled! + </p> + <p> + Chetwyn, in June 1679, says that he heard of Dugdale’s words as to the + murder, from Mr. Sanbidge, or Sambidge, or Sawbridge. At the trial of Lord + Stafford (1680) Sanbidge ‘took it upon his salvation’ that Dugdale told + him nothing of the matter, and vowed that Dugdale was a wicked rogue.* Mr. + Wilson, the parish clergyman of Tixall, was said to have heard Dugdale + speak of Godfrey’s death on October 14. He also remembered no such thing. + Hanson, a running-man, heard Dugdale talk of the murder of a justice of + the peace at Westminster as early as the morning of Monday, October 14, + 1678: the London Saturday post arrived at Tixall on Monday morning. Two + gentlemen, Birch and Turton, averred that the news of the murder ‘was all + over the country’ near Tixall, on Tuesday, October 15; but Turton was not + sure that he did not hear first of the fact on Friday, October 18, which, + by ordinary post from London, was impossible. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Trials, vii. 1406. +</pre> + <p> + Such was the evidence to show that Dugdale spoke of Godfrey’s death, in + the country, two or three days before Godfrey’s body was found. The fact + can scarcely be said to be PROVED, considering the excitement of men’s + minds, the fallacies of memory, the silence of Dugdale at his first + examination before the Council, Sanbidge’s refusal to corroborate Chetwyn, + and Wilson’s inability to remember anything about a matter so remarkable + and so recent. To deny, like Sanbidge, to be unable to remember, like + Wilson, demanded some courage, in face of the frenzied terror of the + Protestants. Birch confessedly took no notice of the rumour, when it first + reached him, but at the trial of Green, Berry, and Hill, ‘I told several + gentlemen that I did perfectly remember before Thursday it was discoursed + of in the country by several gentlemen where I lived.‘* The ‘several + gentlemen’ whom Birch ‘told’ were not called to corroborate him. In short, + the evidence seems to fall short of demonstrative proof. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Trials. vii. 1455. +</pre> + <p> + But, if it were all true, L’Estrange (and a writer who made the assertion + in 1681) collected a good deal of evidence* to show that a rumour of + Godfrey’s disappearance, and probable murder by bloody Papists, was + current in London on the afternoon of the day when he disappeared, + Saturday, October 12.*** Mr. Pollock says that the evidence is ‘not to be + relied on,’ and part of it, attributing the rumour to Godfrey’s brothers, + is absurd. THEY were afraid that Godfrey had killed himself, not that he + was murdered by Papists. That ‘his household could not have known that he + would not return,’ is not to the point. The people who raised the rumour + were not of Godfrey’s household. Nor is it to the point, exactly, that, + being invited to dine on Saturday by Mr. Welden, who saw him on Friday + night, ‘he said he could not tell whether he should.‘** For Wynell had + expected to dine with him at Welden’s to talk over some private business + about house property.*** Wynell (the authority for Godfrey’s being ‘master + of a dangerous secret’) did expect to meet Godfrey at dinner, and, knowing + the fears to which Godfrey often confessed, might himself have originated, + by his fussy inquiries, the rumour that Sir Edmund was missing. The wild + excitement of the town might add ‘murdered by Papists,’ and the rumour + might really get into a letter from London of Saturday night, reaching + Tixall by Monday morning. North says: ‘It was in every one’s mouth, WHERE + IS GODFREY? HE HAS NOT BEEN AT HIS HOUSE ALL THIS DAY, THEY SAY HE IS + MURDERED BY THE PAPISTS.‘**** That such a pheemee might arise is very + conceivable. In all probability the report which Bishop Burnet and Dr. + Lloyd heard of the discovery of Godfrey’s body, before it was discovered, + was another rumour, based on a lucky conjecture. It is said that the + report of the fall of Khartoum was current in Cairo on the day of the + unhappy event. Rumour is correct once in a myriad times, and, in October + 1678, London was humming with rumours. THIS report might get into a letter + to Tixall, and, if so, Dugdale’s early knowledge is accounted for; if + knowledge he had, which I have shown to be disputable. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Letter to Miles Prance, March, 1681. L’Estrange, Brief History, +iii. pp. 195-201. + + **Lords’ MSS., p. 48; Pollock, p. 93, and note 2. + + ***L’Estrange, Brief History, iii. pp. 188, 190, 195. + + ****Examen, p. 201. Anglicised version of the author’s +original Greek text. +</pre> + <p> + Dugdale’s talk was thought, at the time, to clinch the demonstration that + the Jesuits were concerned in Godfrey’s murder, L’Estrange says, and he + brings in his witnesses to prove, that the London rumour existed, and + could reach the country by post. In fact, Chetwyn, on the evidence of + Sanbidge, suggested this improvement of his original romance to Dugdale, + and Sanbidge contradicted Chetwyn. He knew nothing of the matter. Such is + the value of the only testimony against the Jesuits which deserves + consideration. + </p> + <p> + We do not propose to unriddle this mystery, but to show that the most + recent and industrious endeavour to solve the problem is unsuccessful. We + cannot deny that Godfrey may have been murdered to conceal Catholic + secrets, of which, thanks to his inexplicable familiarity with Coleman, he + may have had many. But we have tried to prove that we do not KNOW him to + have had any such Catholic secrets, or much beyond Oates’s fables; and we + have probably succeeded in showing that against the Jesuits, as Sir + Edmund’s destroyers, there is no evidence at all. + </p> + <p> + Had modern men of science, unaffected by political and religious bias, + given evidence equivalent to that of the two surgeons, one might conceive + that Godfrey was probably slain, as Macaulay thought, by hotheaded + Catholics. But I confess to a leaning in favour of the picture of Godfrey + sketched by L’Estrange; of the man confessing to hereditary melancholy; + fretted and alarmed by the tracasseries and perils of his own position, + alarming his friends and endangering himself by his gloomy hints; + settling, on the last night of his life (Friday, October 11), with morbid + anxiety, some details of a parish charity founded by himself; uncertain as + to whether he can dine with Welden (at about one) next day; seen at that + very hour near his own house, yet dining nowhere; said to have roamed, + before that hour, to Paddington Woods and back again; seen vaguely, + perhaps, wandering near Primrose Hill in the afternoon, and found dead + five days later in the bush-covered ditch near Primrose Hill, his own + sword through his breast and back, his body in the attitude of one who had + died a Roman death. + </p> + <p> + Between us and that conclusion—suicide caused by fear—nothing + stands but the surgical evidence, and the grounds of that evidence are + disputed. + </p> + <p> + Surgical evidence, however, is a fact ‘that winna ding,’ and I do not rely + on the theory of suicide. But, if Godfrey was murdered by Catholics, it + seems odd that nobody has suggested, as the probable scene, the Savoy, + which lay next on the right to Somerset Yard. The Savoy, so well described + by Scott in Peveril of the Peak, and by Macaulay, was by this time a + rambling, ruinous, labyrinth of lanes and dilapidated dwellings, tenanted + by adventurers and skulking Catholics. It was an Alsatia, says Macaulay, + more dangerous than the Bog of Allen, or the passes of the Grampians. A + courageous magistrate might be lured into the Savoy to stop a fight, or on + any similar pretence; and, once within a rambling old dwelling of the + Hospital, would be in far greater peril than in the Queen’s guarded + residence. Catholic adventurers might here destroy Godfrey, either for his + alleged zeal, or to seize his papers, or because he, so great a friend of + Catholics as he was, might know too much. The body could much more easily + be removed, perhaps by water, from the Savoy, than from the guarded gates + of Somerset House. Oates knew the Savoy, and said falsely that he had met + Coleman there.* If murder was done, the Savoy was as good a place for the + deed as the Forest of Bondy. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *State Trials, vii. 28. + + * * * +</pre> + <p> + NOTE I. CHARLES II. AND GODFREY’S DEATH. + </p> + <p> + The Duke of York, speaking of Bedloe’s evidence before the Lords (November + 8), says, ‘Upon recollection the King remembered he was at Sommerset House + himself, at the very time he swore the murder was committed:... his having + been there at that time himself, made it impossible that a man should be + assaulted in the Court, murder’d, and hurryd into the backstairs, when + there was a Centry at every door, a foot Company on the Guard, and yet + nobody see or knew anything of it.* Now evidence was brought that, at 5 + P.M. on Saturday, October 12, the Queen decided to be ‘not at home.’ But + Bedloe placed the murder as early as 2 P.M., sometimes, and between two + o’clock and five o’clock the King may, as the Duke of York says, have been + at Somerset House. Reresby, in his diary, for November 21, 1678, says that + the King told him on that day that he was ‘satisfied’ Bedloe had given + false evidence as to Godfrey’s murder. The Duke of York probably repeats + the King’s grounds for this opinion. Charles also knew that the room + selected by Bedloe as the scene of the deed was impossible. + </p> + <p> + Life of James II, i. pp. 527, 528. + </p> + <p> + NOTE II. PRANCE AND THE WHITE HOUSE CLUB. + </p> + <p> + The body of Godfrey was found in a ditch near the White House Tavern, and + that tavern was used as a club by a set of Catholic tradesmen. Was Prance + a member? The landlord, Rawson, on October 24, mentioned as a member ‘Mr. + PRINCE, a silversmith in Holborn.’ Mr. PRANCE was a silversmith in Covent + Garden. On December 21, Prance said that he had not seen Rawson for a + year; he was asked about Rawson. The members of the club met at the White + House during the sitting of the coroner’s inquest there, on Friday, + October 18. Prance, according to the author of ‘A Letter to Miles Prance,’ + was present. He may have been a member, he may have known the useful ditch + where Godfrey’s corpse was found, but this does not rise beyond the value + of conjecture.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Lords’ MSS. pp. 46, 47, 51. +</pre> + <p> + NOTE III. THE JESUIT MURDERERS. + </p> + <p> + There is difficulty in identifying as Jesuits the ‘Jesuits’ accused by + Bedloe. The chief is ‘Father Le Herry,’ * called ‘Le Ferry’ by Mr. Pollock + and Mr. Foley. He also appears as Le Faire, Lee Phaire, Le Fere, but + usually Le Fevre, in the documents. There really was a priest styled Le + Fevre. A man named Mark Preston was accused of being a priest and a + Jesuit. When arrested he declared that he was a married layman with a + family. He had been married in Mr. Langhorne’s rooms, in the Temple, by Le + Fevre, a priest, in 1667, or, at least, about eleven years before 1678.** + I cannot find that Le Fevre was known as a Jesuit to the English members + of the Society. He is not in Oates’s list of conspirators. He does not + occur in Foley’s ‘Records,’ vol. v., a very painstaking work. Nor would he + be omitted because accused of a crime, rather he would be reckoned as more + or less of a martyr, like the other Fathers implicated by the informers. + The author of ‘Florus Anglo-Bavaricus’ *** names ‘Pharius’ (Le Phaire), + ‘Valschius’ (Walsh), and ‘Atkinsus,’ as denounced by Bedloe, but clearly + knows nothing about them. ‘Atkinsus’ is Mr. Pepys’s clerk, Samuel Atkins, + who had an alibi. Valschius is Walsh, certainly a priest, but not to be + found in Foley’s ‘Records’ as a Jesuit. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Brit. Mus. Addit. MS. 11055, 245. + + **Lords’ Journals, xiii. 331, 332. Lords’ MSS., p. 99. + + ***Liege, 1685, p. 137. +</pre> + <p> + That Le Fevre was the Queen’s confessor I find no proof. But she had a + priest named Ferrera, who might be confused with Le Faire.* He was accused + of calling a waterman to help to take two persons down the river on + November 6, 1678. He was summoned before the Lords, but we do not know + that he came. Ferrera MAY have been the Queen’s confessor, he was ‘one of + the Queen’s priests.’ In 1670 she had twenty-eight priests as chaplains; + twelve were Portuguese Capuchins, six were Benedictines, two, Dominicans, + and the rest seculars.** Mrs. Prance admitted that she knew ‘Mr. Le + Phaire, and that he went for a priest.‘*** Of Le Fevre, ‘Jesuit’ and + ‘Queens confessor,’ I know no more. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Lords’ MSS., p. 49. + + **Maziere Brady, Episcopal Succession in England, p. 124 (1876). + + ***Lords’ MSS p. 52. +</pre> + <p> + It appears that Mr. Pollock’s authority for styling Le Fevre ‘the Queen’s + confessor’ is a slip of information appended to the Coventry notes, in the + Longleat MSS., on Bedloe’s deposition of November 7.* I do not know the + authority of the writer of the slip. It is admitted that the authority of + a slip pinned on to a letter of Randolph’s is not sufficient to prove John + Knox to have been one of the Riccio conspirators. The same slip appears to + style Charles Walsh a Jesuit of the household of Lord Bellasis. This Walsh + is unknown to Foley. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pollock, pp. 155, 157, note 2, in each case. +</pre> + <p> + As to Father Pritchard, a Jesuit, Bedloe, in the British Museum MS., + accuses ‘Penthard, a layman.’ He develops into Pridgeot, a Jesuit.* Later + he is Father Pritchard, S.J. There was such a Jesuit, and, according to + the Jesuit Annual Letter of 1680, he passed sixteen years in the South + Wales Mission, and never once went to London. In 1680 he died in + concealment.** It is clear that if Le Fevre was the Queen’s confessor, the + sentries at Somerset House could prove whether he was there on the day of + Godfrey’s murder. No such evidence was adduced. But if Le Fevre was not + the Queen’s confessor, he would scarcely have facilities for smuggling a + dead body out of ‘a private door.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Longleat MS., Pollock, p. 386. + + **Foley, v. 875-877. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. THE FALSE JEANNE D’ARC. + </h2> + <p> + Who that ever saw Jeanne d’Arc could mistake her for another woman? No + portrait of the Maid was painted from the life, but we know the light + perfect figure, the black hair cut short like a soldier’s, and we can + imagine the face of her, who, says young Laval, writing to his mother + after his first meeting with the deliverer of France, ‘seemed a thing all + divine.’ Yet even two of her own brothers certainly recognised another + girl as the Maid, five years after her death by fire. It is equally + certain that, eight years after the martyrdom of Jeanne, an impostor dwelt + for several days in Orleans, and was there publicly regarded as the + heroine who raised the siege in 1429. Her family accepted the impostor for + sixteen years. These facts rest on undoubted evidence. + </p> + <p> + To unravel the threads of the story is a task very difficult. My table is + strewn with pamphlets, papers, genealogies, essays; the authors taking + opposite sides as to the question, Was Jeanne d’Arc burned at Rouen on May + 30, 1431? Unluckily even the most exact historians (yea, even M. + Quicherat, the editor of the five volumes of documents and notices about + the Maid) (1841-1849) make slips in dates, where dates are all important. + It would add confusion if we dwelt on these errors, or on the bias of the + various disputants. + </p> + <p> + Not a word was said at the Trial of Rehabilitation in 1452-1456 about the + supposed survival of the Maid. But there are indications of the inevitable + popular belief that she was not burned. Long after the fall of Khartoum, + rumours of the escape of Charles Gordon were current; even in our own day + people are loth to believe that their hero has perished. Like Arthur he + will come again, and from Arthur to James IV. of Scotland, from James IV. + to the Duke of Monmouth, or the son of Louis XVI., the populace believes + and hopes that its darling has not perished. We destroyed the Mahdi’s body + to nullify such a belief, or to prevent worship at his tomb. In the same + way, at Rouen, ‘when the Maid was dead, as the English feared that she + might be said to have escaped, they bade the executioner rake back the + fire somewhat that the bystanders might see her dead.‘* An account of a + similar precaution, the fire drawn back after the Maid’s robes were burned + away, is given in brutal detail by the contemporary diarist (who was not + present), the Bourgeois de Paris.** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Quicherat, iii. p. 191. These lines are not in MS. 5970. M. +Save, in Jehanne des Armoises, Pucelle d’Orleans, p. 6 (Nancy, 1893), +interpolates, in italics, words of his own into his translation of this +text, which improve the force of his argument! + + **Quicherat, iv. p. 471. +</pre> + <p> + In spite of all this, the populace, as reflected in several chronicles, + was uncertain that Jeanne had died. A ‘manuscript in the British Museum’ + says: ‘At last they burned her, or another woman like her, on which point + many persons are, and have been, of different opinions.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Save, p. 7, citing Bibliotheque de l’Ecole des Chartes, ii., Second +Series. +</pre> + <p> + This hopeful rumour of the Maid’s escape was certain to arise, populus + vult decipi. + </p> + <p> + Now we reach a point at which we may well doubt how to array the evidence. + But probably the best plan is first to give the testimony of undoubted + public documents from the Treasury Accounts of the town of Orleans. In + that loyal city the day of the Maid’s death had been duly celebrated by + religious services; the Orleanese had indulged in no illusions. None the + less on August 9, 1436, the good town pays its pursuivant, Fleur-de-lys, + ‘because he had brought letters to the town FROM JEHANNE LA PUCELLE’! On + August 21 money is paid to ‘Jehan du Lys, brother of Jehanne la Pucelle,’ + because he has visited the King, Charles VII., is returning to his sister, + the Maid, and is in want of cash, as the King’s order given to him was not + fully honoured. On October 18 another pursuivant is paid for a mission + occupying six weeks. He has visited the Maid at Arlon in Luxembourg, and + carried letters from her to the King at Loches on the Loire. Earlier, in + August, a messenger brought letters from the Maid, and went on to + Guillaume Belier, bailiff of Troyes, in whose house the real Maid had + lodged, at Chinon, in the dawn of her mission, March 1429. Thus the + impostor was dealing, by letters, with some of the people who knew the + Maid best, and was freely accepted by her brother Jehan.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Quicherat, v. pp. 326-327. +</pre> + <p> + For three years the account-books of Orleans are silent about this strange + Pucelle. Orleans has not seen her, but has had Jeanne’s brother’s word for + her reappearance, and the word, probably, of the pursuivants sent to her. + Jeanne’s annual funeral services are therefore discontinued. + </p> + <p> + Mention of her in the accounts again appears on July 18, 1439. Money is + now paid to Jaquet Leprestre for ten pints and a chopine of wine given to + DAME JEHANNE DES ARMOISES. On the 29th, 30th, and on August 1, when she + left the town, entries of payments for quantities of wine and food for + Jehanne des Armoises occur, and she is given 210 livres ‘after + deliberation with the town council,’ ‘for the good that she did to the + said town during the siege of 1429.’ + </p> + <p> + The only Jehanne who served Orleans in the siege was Jehanne d’Arc. Here, + then, she is, as Jehanne des Armoises, in Orleans for several days in + 1439, feasted and presented with money by command of the town council. + Again she returns and receives ‘propine’ on September 4.* The Leprestre + who is paid for the wine was he who furnished wine to the real Maid in + 1429. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Quicherat, v. pp. 331-332. +</pre> + <p> + It is undeniable that the people of Orleans must have seen the impostor in + 1439, and they ceased to celebrate service on the day of the true Maid’s + death. Really it seems as if better evidence could not be that Jeanne des + Armoises, nee Jeanne d’Arc, was alive in 1439. All Orleans knew the Maid, + and yet the town council recognised the impostor. + </p> + <p> + She is again heard of on September 27, 1439, when the town of Tours pays a + messenger for carrying to Orleans letters which Jeanne wrote to the King, + and also letters from the bailli of Touraine to the King, concerning + Jeanne. The real Jeanne could not write, but the impostor, too, may have + employed a secretary.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Quicherat, v. p. 332. +</pre> + <p> + In June 1441 Charles VII. pardoned, for an escape from prison, one de + Siquemville, who, ‘two years ago or thereabouts’ (1439), was sent by the + late Gilles de Raiz, Marechal de France, to take over the leadership of a + commando at Mans, which had hitherto been under ‘UNE APPELEE JEHANNE, QUI + SE DISOIT PUCELLE.‘* The phrase ‘one styled Jehanne who called herself + Pucelle’ does not indicate fervent belief on the part of the King. + Apparently this Jeanne went to Orleans and Tours after quitting her + command at Mans in 1439. If ever she saw Gilles de Raiz (the notorious + monster of cruelty) in 1439, she saw a man who had fought in the campaigns + of the true Maid under her sacred banner, argent a dove on an azure + field.** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Quicherat, v. p. 333. + + **She never used the arms given to her and her family by Charles VII. +</pre> + <p> + Here public documents about the impostor fall silent. It is not known what + she was doing between August 9, 1436, and September 1439. At the earlier + date she had written to the town of Orleans; at the later, she was writing + to the King, from Tours. Here an error must be avoided. According to the + author of the ‘Chronicle of the Constable of Alvaro de Luna,’ * the + impostor was, in 1436, sending a letter, and ambassadors, to the King of + Spain, asking him to succour La Rochelle. The ambassadors found the King + at Valladolid, and the Constable treated the letter, ‘as if it were a + relic, with great reverence.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Madrid, 1784, p. 131. +</pre> + <p> + The impostor flies high! But the whole story is false. + </p> + <p> + M. Quicherat held at first that the date and place may be erroneously + stated, but did not doubt that the False Pucelle did send her ambassadors + and letter to the King of Spain. We never hear that the true Maid did + anything of the sort. But Quicherat changed his mind on the subject. The + author of the ‘Chronicle of Alvaro de Luna’ merely cites a Coronica de la + Poncella. That coronica, says Quicherat later, ‘is a tissue of fables, a + romance in the Spanish taste,’ and in this nonsense occurs the story of + the embassy to the Spanish King. That story does not apply to the False + Pucelle, and is not true, a point of which students of Quicherat’s great + work need to be warned; his correction may escape notice.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Revue des Questions Historiques, April 1, 1881, pp. 553-566. +Article by the Comte de Puymaigre. +</pre> + <p> + We thus discard a strong trump in the hand of believers that the impostor + was the real Maid; had a Pucelle actually sent ambassadors to Spain in + 1436, their case would be stronger than it is. + </p> + <p> + Next, why is the false Pucelle styled ‘Jeanne des Armoises’ in the town + accounts of Orleans in 1439? + </p> + <p> + This leads us to the proofs of the marriage of the false Pucelle, in 1436, + with a Monsieur Robert des Armoises, a gentleman of the Metz country. The + evidence is in a confused state. In the reign of Louis XIV. lived a Pere + Vignier, a savant, who is said to have been a fraudulent antiquary. + Whether this be true or not, his brother, after the death of Pere Vignier, + wrote a letter to the Duc de Grammont, which was published in the ‘Mercure + Galant’ of November, 1683. The writer says that his brother, Pere Vignier, + found, at Metz, an ancient chronicle of the town, in manuscript, and had a + copy made by a notary royal. The extract is perfectly genuine, whatever + the reputation of the discoverer may be. This portion of the chronicle of + the doyen of Saint-Thibaud de Metz exists in two forms, of which the + latter, whoever wrote it, is intended to correct the former. + </p> + <p> + In the earlier shape the author says that, on May 20, 1436, the Pucelle + Jeanne came to Metz, and was met by her brothers, Pierre, a knight, and + Jehan, an esquire. Pierre had, in fact, fought beside his sister when both + he and she were captured, at Compiegne, in May 1430. Jehan, as we have + already seen, was in attendance on the false Maid in August 1436. + </p> + <p> + According to the Metz chronicle, these two brothers of the Maid, on May + 20, 1436, recognised the impostor for their sister, and the account-books + of Orleans leave no doubt that Jehan, at least, actually did accept her as + such, in August 1436, four months after they met in May. Now this lasting + recognition by one, at least, of the brothers, is a fact very hard to + explain. + </p> + <p> + M. Anatole France offers a theory of the easiest. The brothers went to + Lorraine in May 1436, to see the pretender. ‘Did they hurry to expose the + fraud, or did they not think it credible, on the other hand, that, with + God’s permission, the Saint had risen again? Nothing could seem + impossible, after all that they had seen.... They acted in good faith. A + woman said to them, “I am Jeanne, your sister.” They believed, because + they wished to believe.’ And so forth, about the credulity of the age. + </p> + <p> + The age was not promiscuously credulous. In a RESURRECTION of Jeanne, + after death, the age did not believe. The brothers had never seen anything + of the kind, nor had the town council of Orleans. THEY had nothing to gain + by their belief, the brothers had everything to gain. One might say that + they feigned belief, in the hope that ‘there was money in it;’ but one + cannot say that about the people of Orleans who had to spend money. The + case is simply a puzzle.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Anatole France, ‘La Fausse Pucelle,’ Revue de Famille, Feb. 15, +1891. I cite from the quotation by M. P. Lanery d’Arc in Deux Lettres +(Beauvais, 1894), a brochure which I owe to the kindness of the author. +</pre> + <p> + After displaying feats of horsemanship, in male attire, and being accepted + by many gentlemen, and receiving gifts of horses and jewels, the impostor + went to Arlon, in Luxembourg, where she was welcomed by the lady of the + duchy, Elizabeth de Gorlitz, Madame de Luxembourg. And at Arlon she was in + October 1436, as the town accounts of Orleans have proved. Thence, says + the Metz chronicle, the ‘Comte de Warnonbourg’ (?) took her to Cologne, and + gave her a cuirass. Thence she returned to Arlon in Luxembourg, and there + married the knight Robert des Hermoises, or Armoises, ‘and they dwelt in + their own house at Metz, as long as they would.’ Thus Jeanne became + ‘Madame des Hermoises,’ or ‘Ermaises,’ or, in the town accounts of + Orleans, in 1439, ‘des Armoises.’ + </p> + <p> + So says the Metz chronicle, in one form, but, in another manuscript + version, it denounces this Pucelle as an impostor, who especially deceived + tous les plus grands. Her brothers, we read (the real Maid’s brothers), + brought her to the neighbourhood of Metz. She dwelt with Madame de + Luxembourg, and married ‘Robert des Armoize.‘* The Pere Vignier’s brother, + in 1683, published the first, but not the second, of these two accounts in + the ‘Mercure Galant’ for November. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Quicherat, v. pp. 321-324, cf. iv. 321. +</pre> + <p> + In or about 1439, Nider, a witch-hunting priest, in his Formicarium, + speaks of a false Jeanne at Cologne, protected by Ulrich of Wirtemberg, + (the Metz chronicle has ‘Comte de Warnonbourg’), who took the woman to + Cologne. The woman, says Nider, was a noisy lass, who came eating, + drinking, and doing conjuring feats; the Inquisition failed to catch her, + thanks to Ulrich’s protection. She married a knight, and presently became + the concubine of a priest in Metz.* This reads like a piece of confused + gossip. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Quicherat, v. pp. 324-325. +</pre> + <p> + Vignier’s brother goes on to say (1683) in the ‘Mercure Galant,’ that his + learned brother found the wedding contract of Jeanne la Pucelle and Robert + des Armoises in the charter chest of the M. des Armoises of his own day, + the time of Louis XIV. The brother of Vignier had himself met the son of + this des Armoises, who corroborated the fact. But ‘the original copy of + this ancient manuscript vanished, with all the papers of Pere Vignier, at + his death.’ + </p> + <p> + Two months later, in the spring of 1684, Vienne de Plancy wrote to the + ‘Mercure Galant,’ saying that ‘the late illustrious brother’ of the Duc de + Grammont was fully persuaded, and argued very well in favour of his + opinion, that the actual Pucelle did not die at Rouen, but married Robert + des Armoises. He quoted a genuine petition of Pierre du Lys, the brother + of the real Maid, to the Duc d’Orleans, of 1443. Pierre herein says he has + warred ‘in the company of Jeanne la Pucelle, his sister, jusqu’a son + absentement, and so on till this hour, exposing his body and goods in the + King’s service.’ This, argued M. de Grammont, implied that Jeanne was not + dead; Pierre does not say, feue ma soeur, ‘my late sister,’ and his words + may even mean that he is still with her. (‘Avec laquelle, jusques a son + absentement, ET DEPUIS JUSQUES A PRESENT, il a expose son corps.’)* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *The petition is in Quicherat, v. pp. 212-214. For Vienne-Plancy +see the papers from the Mercure Galant in Jeanne d’Arc n’a point ete +brulee a Rouen (Rouen, Lanctin, 1872). The tract was published in 100 +copies only. +</pre> + <p> + Though no copy of the marriage contract of Jeanne and des Armoises exists, + Quicherat prints a deed of November 7, 1436, in which Robert des Armoises + and his wife, ‘La Pucelle de France,’ acknowledge themselves to be + married, and sell a piece of land. The paper was first cited by Dom + Calmet, among the documents in his ‘Histoire de Lorraine.’ It is rather + under suspicion. + </p> + <p> + There seems no good reason, however, to doubt the authenticity of the fact + that a woman, calling herself Jeanne Pucelle de France, did, in 1436, + marry Robert des Armoises, a man of ancient and noble family. Hence, in + the town accounts of Tours and Orleans, after October 1436, up to + September 1439, the impostor appears as ‘Mme. Jehanne des Armoises.’ In + August 1436, she was probably not yet married, as the Orleans accounts + then call her ‘Jehanne la Pucelle,’ when they send their pursuivants to + her; men who, doubtless, had known the true Maid in 1429-1430. These men + did not undeceive the citizens, who, at least till September 1439, + accepted the impostor. There is hardly a more extraordinary fact in + history. For the rest we know that, in 1436-1439, the impostor was dealing + with the King by letters, and that she held a command under one of his + marshals, who had known the true Maid well in 1429-1430. + </p> + <p> + It appears possible that, emboldened by her amazing successes, the false + Pucelle sought an interview with Charles VII. The authority, to be sure, + is late. The King had a chamberlain, de Boisy, who survived till 1480, + when he met Pierre Sala, one of the gentlemen of the chamber of Charles + VIII. De Boisy, having served Charles VII., knew and told Sala the nature + of the secret that was between that king and the true Maid. That such a + secret existed is certain. Alain Chartier, the poet, may have been + present, in March 1429, when the Maid spoke words to Charles VII. which + filled him with a spiritual rapture. So Alain wrote to a foreign prince in + July 1429. M. Quicherat avers that Alain was present: I cannot find this + in his letter.* Any amount of evidence for the ‘sign’ given to the King, + by his own statement, is found throughout the two trials, that of Rouen + and that of Rehabilitation. Dunois, the famous Bastard of Orleans, told + the story to Basin, Bishop of Lisieux; and at Rouen the French examiners + of the Maid vainly tried to extort from her the secret.** In 1480, Boisy, + who had been used to sleep in the bed of Charles VII., according to the + odd custom of the time, told the secret to Sala. The Maid, in 1429, + revealed to Charles the purpose of a secret prayer which he had made alone + in his oratory, imploring light on the question of his legitimacy.*** M. + Quicherat, no bigot, thinks that ‘the authenticity of the revelation is + beyond the reach of doubt.‘**** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Quicherat, Apercus Nouveaux, p. 62. Proces, v. p. 133. + + **For the complete evidence, see Quicherat, Apercus, pp. 61-66. + + ***Quicherat, v. p. 280, iv. pp. 258, 259, another and ampler account, +in a MS. of 1500. Another, iv. p. 271: MS. of the period of Louis XII. + + ****Apercus, p. 60, Paris, 1850. +</pre> + <p> + Thus there was a secret between the true Maid and Charles VII. The King, + of course, could not afford to let it be known that he had secretly + doubted whether he were legitimate. Boisy alone, at some later date, was + admitted to his confidence. + </p> + <p> + Boisy went on to tell Sala that, ten years later (whether after 1429 or + after 1431, the date of the Maid’s death, is uncertain), a pretended + Pucelle, ‘very like the first,’ was brought to the King. He was in a + garden, and bade one of his gentlemen personate him. The impostor was not + deceived, for she knew that Charles, having hurt his foot, then wore a + soft boot. She passed the gentleman, and walked straight to the King, + ‘whereat he was astonished, and knew not what to say, but, gently saluting + her, exclaimed, “Pucelle, my dear, you are right welcome back, in the name + of God, who knows the secret that is between you and me.”’ The false + Pucelle then knelt, confessed her sin, and cried for mercy. ‘For her + treachery some were sorely punished, as in such a case was fitting.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Quicherat, v. p. 281. There is doubt as to whether Boisy’s tale +does not refer to Jeanne la Feronne, a visionary. Varlet de Vireville, +Charles VII., iii. p. 425, note 1. +</pre> + <p> + If any deserved punishment, the Maid’s brothers did, but they rather + flourished and prospered, as time went on, than otherwise. + </p> + <p> + It appears, then, that in 1439-1441 the King exposed the false Pucelle, or + another person, Jeanne la Feronne. A great foe of the true Maid, the + diarist known as the Bourgeois de Paris, in his journal for August 1440, + tells us that just then many believed that Jeanne had not been burned at + Rouen. The gens d’armes brought to Paris ‘a woman who had been received + with great honour at Orleans’—clearly Jeanne des Armoises. The + University and Parlement had her seized and exhibited to the public at the + Palais. Her life was exposed; she confessed that she was no maid, but a + mother, and the wife of a knight (des Armoises?). After this follows an + unintelligible story of how she had gone on pilgrimage to Rome, and fought + in the Italian wars.* Apparently she now joined a regiment at Paris, et + puis s’en alla, but all is very vaguely recorded. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Quicherat, v. pp. 334, 335; c.f. Lefevre-Pontalis, Les Sources +Allemands, 113-115. Fontemoing, Paris, 1903. +</pre> + <p> + The most extraordinary circumstance remains to be told. Apparently the + brothers and cousins of the true Maid continued to entertain and accept + the impostor! We have already seen that, in 1443, Pierre du Lys, in his + petition to the Duc d’Orleans, writes as if he did not believe in the + death of his sister, but that may be a mere ambiguity of language; we + cannot repose on the passage. + </p> + <p> + In 1476 a legal process and inquest was held as to the descendants of the + brother of the mother of Jeanne d’Arc, named Voulton or Vouthon. Among + other witnesses was Henry de Voulton, called Perinet, a carpenter, aged + fifty-two. He was grandson of the brother of the mother of Jeanne d’Arc, + his grand-maternal aunt. This witness declared that he had often seen the + two brothers du Lys, Jehan and Pierre, with their sister, La Pucelle, come + to the village of Sermaise and feast with his father. They always accepted + him, the witness, as their cousin, ‘in all places where he has been, + conversed, eaten, and drunk in their company.’ Now Perinet is clearly + speaking of his associations with Jeanne and her brothers AFTER HE HIMSELF + WAS A MAN GROWN. Born in 1424, he was only five years old when the Maid + left Domremy for ever. He cannot mean that, as a child of five, he was + always, in various places, drinking with the Maid and her brothers. + Indeed, he says, taking a distinction, that in his early childhood—‘son + jeune aage’—he visited the family of d’Arc, with his father, at + Domremy, and saw the Maid, qui pour lors estoit jeune fille.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *De Bouteiller et de Braux, Nouvelles Recherches sur la Famille de +Jeanne d’Arc, Paris, 1879, pp. 8, 9. +</pre> + <p> + Moreover, the next witness, the cure of Sermaise, aged fifty-three, says + that, twenty-four years ago (in 1452), a young woman dressed as a man, + calling herself Jeanne la Pucelle, used to come to Sermaise, and that, as + he heard, she was the near kinswoman of all the Voultons, ‘and he saw her + make great and joyous cheer with them while she was at Sermaise.‘* Clearly + it was about this time, in or before 1452, that Perinet himself was + conversant with Jehan and Pierre du Lys, and with their sister, calling + herself La Pucelle. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Op. cit. p. 11. +</pre> + <p> + Again, Jehan le Montigueue, aged about seventy, deposed that, in 1449, a + woman calling herself Jeanne la Pucelle came to Sermaise and feasted with + the Voultons, as also did (but he does not say at the same time) the + Maid’s brother, Jehan du Lys.* Jehan du Lys could, at least, if he did not + accept her, have warned his cousins, the Voultons, against their pretended + kinswoman, the false Pucelle. But for some three years at least she came, + a welcome guest, to Sermaise, matched herself against the cure at tennis, + and told him that he might now say that he had played against la Pucelle + de France. This news gave him the greatest pleasure. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Op. cit. pp. 4,5, MM. de Bouteiller and de Graux do not observe the +remarkable nature of this evidence, as regards the BROTHERS of the Maid; +see their Preface, p. xxx. +</pre> + <p> + Jehan Guillaume, aged seventy-six, had seen both the self-styled Pucelle + and the real Maid’s brothers at the house of the Voultons. He did not know + whether she was the true Maid or not. + </p> + <p> + It is certain, practically, that this PUCELLE, so merry at Sermaise with + the brothers and cousins of the Maid, was the Jeanne des Armoises of + 1436-1439. The du Lys family could not successively adopt TWO impostors as + their sister! Again, the woman of circ. 1449-1452 is not a younger sister + of Jeanne, who in 1429 had no sister living, though one, Catherine, whom + she dearly loved, was dead. + </p> + <p> + We have now had glimpses of the impostor from 1436 to 1440, when she seems + to have been publicly exposed (though the statement of the Bourgeois de + Paris is certainly that of a prejudiced writer), and again we have found + the impostor accepted by the paternal and maternal kin of the Maid, about + 1449-1452. In 1452 the preliminary steps towards the Rehabilitation of the + true Maid began, ending triumphantly in 1456. Probably the families of + Voulton and du Lys now, after the trial began in 1452, found their jolly + tennis-playing sister and cousin inconvenient. She reappears, NOT at + Sermaise, in 1457. In that year King Rene (father of Margaret, wife of our + Henry VI.) gives a remission to ‘Jeanne de Sermaises.’ M. Lecoy de la + March, in his ‘Roi Rene’ (1875) made this discovery, and took ‘Jeanne de + Sermaises’ for our old friend, ‘Jeanne des Ermaises,’ or ‘des Armoises.’ + She was accused of ‘having LONG called herself Jeanne la Pucelle, and + deceived many persons who had seen Jeanne at the siege of Orleans.’ She + has lain in prison, but is let out, in February 1457, on a five years’ + ticket of leave, so to speak, ‘provided she bear herself honestly in + dress, and in other matters, as a woman should do.’ + </p> + <p> + Probably, though ‘at present the wife of Jean Douillet,’ this Jeanne still + wore male costume, hence the reference to bearing herself ‘honestly in + dress.’ She acknowledges nothing, merely says that the charge of imposture + lui a ete impose, and that she has not been actainte d’aucun autre vilain + cas.* At this date Jeanne cruised about Anjou and the town of Saumur. And + here, at the age of forty-five, if she was of the same age as the true + Maid, we lose sight for ever of this extraordinary woman. Of course, if + she was the genuine Maid, the career of La Pucelle de France ends most + ignobly. The idea ‘was nuts’ (as the Elizabethans said) to a good + anti-clerical Frenchman, M. Lesigne, who, in 1889, published ‘La Fin d’une + Legende.’ There would be no chance of canonising a Pucelle who was twice + married and lived a life of frolic. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Lecoy de la Marche, Le Roi Rene, ii. 281-283, 1875. +</pre> + <p> + A more serious and discreet scholar, M. Gaston Save, in 1893, made an + effort to prove that Jeanne was not burned at Rouen.* He supposed that the + Duchess of Bedford let Jeanne out of prison and bribed the two priests, + Massieu and Ladvenu, who accompanied the Maid to the scaffold, to pretend + that they had been with her, not with a substituted victim. This victim + went with hidden face to the scaffold, le visage embronche, says Percival + de Cagny, a retainer of Jeanne’s ‘beau duc,’ d’Alencon.** The townspeople + were kept apart by 800 English soldiers.*** The Madame de Luxembourg who + entertained the impostor at Arlon (1436) was ‘perhaps’ the same as she who + entertained the real Jeanne at Beaurevoir in 1430. Unluckily THAT lady + died in November 1430! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Jehanne des Armoises, Pucelle d’Orleans, Nancy, 1893. + + **Quicherat, iv. 36. + + ***Quicherat, ii. 14, 19. +</pre> + <p> + However, the Madame de Luxembourg who entertained the impostor was aunt, + by marriage, of the Duke of Burgundy, the true Maid’s enemy, and she had + means of being absolutely well informed, so the case remains very strange. + Strange, too, it is that, in the records of payment of pension to the true + Maid’s mother, from the town of Orleans, she is ‘mere de la Pucelle’ till + 1452, when she becomes ‘mere de feue la Pucelle,’ ‘mother of the LATE + Pucelle.’ That is to say, the family and the town of Orleans recognised + the impostor till, in 1452, the Trial of Rehabilitation began. So I have + inferred, as regards the family, from the record of the inquest of 1476, + which, though it suited the argument of M. Save, was unknown to him. + </p> + <p> + His brochure distressed the faithful. The Abbe, Dr. Jangen, editor of ‘Le + Pretre,’ wrote anxiously to M. P. Lanery d’Arc, who replied in a tract + already cited (1894). But M. Lanery d’Arc did not demolish the sounder + parts of the argument of M. Save, and he knew nothing of the inquest of + 1476, or said nothing. Then arose M. Lefevre Pontalis.* Admitting the + merits of M. Save’s other works, he noted many errors in this tract. For + example, the fire at Rouen was raked (as we saw) more or less (admodum) + clear of the dead body of the martyr. But would it be easy, in the + circumstances, to recognise a charred corpse? The two Mesdames de + Luxembourg were distinguished apart, as by Quicherat. The Vignier + documents as to Robert des Armoises were said to be impostures. Quicherat, + however, throws no doubt on the deed of sale by Jehanne and her husband, + des Armoises, in November 1436. Many errors in dates were exposed. The + difficulty about the impostor’s reception in Orleans, was recognised, and + it is, of course, THE difficulty. M. Lefevre de Pontalis, however, urges + that her brothers are not said to have been with her, ‘and there is not a + trace of their persistence in their error after the first months of the + imposture.’ But we have traces, nay proofs, in the inquest of 1476. The + inference of M. Save from the fact that the Pucelle is never styled ‘the + late Pucelle,’ in the Orleans accounts, till 1452, is merely declared + ‘inadmissible.’ The fact, on the other hand, is highly significant. In + 1452 the impostor was recognised by the family; but in that year began the + Trial of Rehabilitation, and we hear no more of her among the du Lys and + the Voultons. M. Lefevre Pontalis merely mentions the inquest of 1476, + saying that the impostor of Sermaise (1449-1452) may perhaps have been + another impostor, not Jeanne des Armoises. The family of the Maid was not + capable, surely, of accepting TWO impostors, ‘one down, the other come + on’! This is utterly incredible. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Le Moyen Age, June 1895. +</pre> + <p> + In brief, the family of Jeanne, in 1436,1449-1452, were revelling with + Jeanne des Armoises, accepting her, some as sister, some as cousin. In + 1439 the Town Council of Orleans not only gave many presents of wine and + meat to the same woman, recognising her as their saviour in the siege of + 1429, but also gave her 210 livres. Now, on February 7, 1430, the town of + Orleans had refused to give 100 crowns, at Jeanne’s request, to Heliote, + daughter of her Scottish painter, ‘Heuves Polnoir.‘* They said that they + could not afford the money. They were not the people to give 210 livres to + a self-styled Pucelle without examining her personally. Moreover, the + impostor supped, in August 1439, with Jehan Luillier, who, in June, 1429, + had supplied the true Maid with cloth, a present from Charles d’Orleans. + He was in Orleans during the siege of 1429, and gave evidence as to the + actions of the Maid at the trial in 1456.** This man clearly did not + detect or expose the impostor, she was again welcomed at Orleans six weeks + after he supped with her. These facts must not be overlooked, and they + have never been explained. So there we leave the most surprising and + baffling of historical mysteries. It is, of course, an obvious conjecture + that, in 1436, Jehan and Pierre du Lys may have pretended to recognise the + impostor, in hopes of honour and rewards such as they had already received + through their connection with the Maid. But, if the impostor was unmasked + in 1440, there was no more to be got in that way.*** While the nature of + the arts of the False Pucelle is inscrutable, the evidence as to the + heroic death of the True Maid is copious and deeply moving. There is + absolutely no room for doubt that she won the martyr’s crown at Rouen. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Quicherat, v. 155. + + **Quicherat, v. pp. 112,113,331, iii. p. 23. +</pre> + <p> + ***By 1452 Pierre du Lys had un grand hotel opposite the Ile des Boeufs, + at Orleans, given to him for two lives, by Charles d’Orleans, in 1443. He + was also building a town house in Orleans, and the chevalier Pierre was no + snob, for he brought from Sermaise his carpenter kinsman, Perinet de + Voulton, to superintend the erection. Nouvelles Recherches, pp. 19, 20. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. JUNIUS AND LORD LYTTELTON’S GHOST + </h2> + <p> + ‘Sir,’ said Dr. Johnson, ‘it is the most extraordinary thing that has + happened in my day.’ + </p> + <p> + The most extraordinary thing that had happened in Dr. Johnson’s day was + the ‘warning’ to the noble peer generally spoken of as ‘the wicked Lord + Lyttelton.’ The Doctor went on thus: ‘I heard it with my own ears from his + uncle, Lord Westcote. I am so glad to have every evidence of the spiritual + world that I am willing to believe it.’ Dr. Adams replied, ‘You have + evidence enough—good evidence, which needs no support.’ Dr. Johnson + growled out, ‘I like to have more!’ + </p> + <p> + Thus the Doctor was willing to believe what it suited him to believe, even + though he had the tale at third or fourth hand; for Lord Westcote was not + with the wicked Lord Lyttelton at the time of his death, on November 27, + 1779. Dr. Johnson’s observations were made on June 12, 1784. + </p> + <p> + To Lord Westcote’s narrative we shall return. + </p> + <p> + As a study in Russian scandal, and the growth and development of stories, + this anecdote of Lord Lyttelton deserves attention. So first we must + glance at the previous history of the hero. Thomas Lord Lyttelton was + born, says Mr. Coulton (in the ‘Quarterly Review,’ No. 179, p. 111), on + January 30, 1744.* He was educated at Eton, where Dr. Barnard thought his + boyish promise even superior to that of Charles James Fox. His sketches of + scenery in Scotland reminded Mrs. Montagu of the vigour of Salvator Rosa, + combined with the grace of Claude Lorraine! At the age of nineteen, + already affianced to Miss Warburton, he went on the Grand Tour, and + excelled the ordinary model of young debauchery abroad. Mr. James Boswell + found a Circe at Siena, Lyttelton found Circes everywhere. He returned to + England in 1765; and that learned lady, Mrs. Carter, the translator of + Epictetus, ‘admired his talents and elegant manners, as much as she + detested his vices.’ In 1768 he entered the House of Commons, and, in his + maiden speech, implored the Assembly to believe that America was more + important than Mr. Wilkes (and Liberty). Unseated for bribery in January + 1769, he vanished from the public view, more or less, for a season; at + least he is rarely mentioned in memoirs, and Coulton thinks that young + Lyttelton was now engaged—in what does the reader suppose? In + writing ‘The Letters of Junius’!** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *The writer was not Croker, but Mr. Coulton, ‘a Kentish gentleman,’ +says Lockhart, February 7, 1851, to his daughter Charlotte. + + **If +Lyttelton went to Italy on being ejected from Parliament, as Mr. Rigg +says he did in the ‘Dictionary of National Biography,’ Coulton’s theory +will be hard to justify. +</pre> + <p> + He was clever enough; his rank was like that assumed as his own by Junius; + his eloquence (as he proved later in the House of Lords) was vituperative + enough; he shared some of Junius’s hatreds, while he proclaimed, like + Junius, that the country was going to the dogs. Just as Junius was ending + his Letters, the prodigal, Thomas Lyttelton, returned to his father’s + house; and Chatham wrote to congratulate the parent (February 15, 1772). + On May 12, 1772, Junius published his last letter in ‘The Public + Advertiser;’ and on June 26 Mr. Lyttelton married a widow, a Mrs. Peach. + He soon left his wife, and was abroad (with a barmaid) when his father + died in 1773. In January 1774 he took his seat in the Lords. Though Fox + thought him a bad man, his first speech was in favour of securing to + authors a perpetual copyright in their own works. He repeated his + arguments some months later; so authors, at least, have reason for judging + him charitably. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Carlyle would have admired Lyttelton. His politics (at one juncture) + were ‘The Dictatorship for Lord Chatham’! How does this agree with the + sentiments of Junius? In 1767-69 Junius had exhausted on Chatham his + considerable treasury of insult. He is ‘a lunatic brandishing a crutch,’ + ‘so black a villain,’ ‘an abandoned profligate,’ and he exhibits ‘THE + UPSTART INSOLENCE OF A DICTATOR!’ This goes not well with Lyttelton’s + sentiments in 1774. True, but by that date (iii. 305) Junius himself had + discovered ‘that if this country can be saved, it must be saved by Lord + Chatham’s spirit, by Lord Chatham’s abilities.’ Lyttelton and Junius are + assuredly both of them ruffianly, scandal-loving, inconsistent, and + patrician in the manner of Catiline. So far, the likeness is close. + </p> + <p> + About America Lyttelton wavered. On the whole, he recognised the need of + fighting; and his main idea was that, as fight we must, we should organise + our forces well, and fight with our heads as well as with our hands. He + disdained the policy of the ostrich. The Americans were in active + rebellion; it could not be blinked. He praised Chatham while he opposed + him. He was ‘fighting for his own hand.’ Ministers felt the advantage of + his aid; they knew his unscrupulous versatility, and in November 1775 + bought Lyttelton with a lucrative sinecure—the post of Chief Justice + of Eyre beyond the Trent. Coulton calls the place ‘honourable;’ we take + another view. Lyttelton was bought and sold, but no one deemed Lyttelton a + person of scrupulous conscience. + </p> + <p> + The public prospects darkened, folly was heaped on folly, blunder on + blunder, defeat on defeat. On April 24, 1779, Horace Walpole says that + Lord Lyttelton ‘has again turned against the Court on obtaining the + Seals’ * November 25, 1779, saw Lyttelton go boldly into Opposition. He + reviewed the whole state of the empire. He poured out a torrent of + invective. As to his sinecure, he said, ‘Perhaps he might not keep it + long.’ ‘The noble Lords smile at what I say!’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Is this a slip, or misprint, for ‘on NOT obtaining the Seals’? +</pre> + <p> + They need not have smiled. He spoke on Thursday, November 25; on Saturday, + November 27, the place in Eyre was vacant, and Lord Lyttelton was a dead + man. + </p> + <p> + The reader will keep in mind these dates. On Thursday, November 25, 1779, + the first day of the session, Lyttelton overflows in a volcanic speech + against the Court. He announces that his place may soon be vacant. At + midnight on November 27 he is dead. + </p> + <p> + On all this, and on the story of the ghostly ‘warning’ to Lord Lyttelton, + delivered in the night of Wednesday, November 24, Coulton builds a + political romance. In his view, Lyttelton, expelled from Parliament, + lavished his genius and exuded his spleen in the ‘Letters of Junius.’ + Taking his seat in the Lords, he fights for his own hand, is bought and + muzzled, wrenches off his muzzle, blazes into a fierce attack on the + wrongs which he is weary of witnessing, the hypocrisy which he is tired of + sharing, makes his will, sets his house in order, plays one last practical + joke by inventing the story of the ghostly warning, surrounds himself with + dissolute company, and at midnight on November 27 deliberately fulfils his + own prediction, and dies by his own hand. It is a tale creditable to + Coulton’s fancy. A patrician of genius, a wit, a profligate, in fatigue + and despair, closes his career with a fierce harangue, a sacrilegious + jest, a debauch, and a draught of poison, leaving to Dr. Johnson a proof + of ‘the spiritual world,’ and to mankind the double mystery of Junius and + of the Ghost. + </p> + <p> + As to the identity of Junius, remembering the warning of Lord + Beaconsfield, ‘If you wish to be a bore, take up the “Letters of Junius,”’ + we shall drop that enigma; but as to the alleged suicide of Lord + Lyttelton, we think we can make that seem extremely improbable. Let us + return to the course of events, as stated by Coulton and by + contemporaries. + </p> + <p> + The warning of death in three days, says Coulton, occurred (place not + given) on the night of November 24, 1779. He observes: ‘It is certain + that, on the morning after that very day’ (November 25), ‘Lord Lyttelton + had related, not to one person alone, but to several, and all of them + people of credit, the particulars of a strange vision which he said had + appeared to him the preceding night.’ On Thursday, the 25th, as we saw, he + spoke in the Lords. On Friday, the 26th, he went down to his house at + Epsom, Pitt Place, where his party, says Coulton, consisted of Mr. (later + Lord) Fortescue, Captain (later Admiral) Wolsley, Mrs. Flood, and the + Misses Amphlett. Now, the town had no kind of doubt concerning the nature + of Lord Lyttelton’s relations with two, if not three, of the Misses + Amphlett. His character was nearly as bad, where women were concerned, as + that of Colonel Charteris. But Walpole, writing to Mann on November 28 + (the day after Lord Lyttelton’s death), says: ‘Lord Lyttelton is dead + suddenly. SUDDENLY, in this country, is always at first construed to mean + BY A PISTOL... The story given out is, that he looked ill, AND HAD SAID HE + SHOULD NOT LIVE THREE DAYS; that, however, he had gone to his house at + Epsom... with a caravan of nymphs; and on Saturday night had retired + before supper to take rhubarb, returned, supped heartily, went into the + next room again, and died in an instant.’ + </p> + <p> + Nothing here of a dream or ghost. We only hear of a prophecy, by + Lyttelton, of his death. + </p> + <p> + Writing to Mason on Monday, November 29, Walpole avers that Lord Lyttelton + was ‘attended only by four virgins, whom he had picked up in the Strand.’ + Here Horace, though writing from Berkeley Square, within two days of the + fatal 27th, is wrong. Lord Lyttelton had the Misses Amphlett, Captain + Wolsley, Mr. Fortescue, and Mrs. Flood with him. According to Walpole, he + felt unwell on Saturday night (the 27th), ‘went to bed, rung his bell in + ten minutes, and in one minute after the arrival of his servant expired!’ + ‘He had said on Thursday that he should die in three days, HAD DREAMT SO, + and felt that it would be so. On Saturday he said, “If I outlive to-day, I + shall go on;” but enough of him.’ + </p> + <p> + Walpole speaks of a DREAM, but he soon has other, if not better, + information. Writing to Mason on December 11, he says that ghost stories + from the north will now be welcome. ‘Lord Lyttelton’s vision has revived + the taste; though it seems a little odd that an APPARITION should despair + of getting access to his Lordship’s bed, in the shape of a young woman, + without being forced to use the disguise of a robin-redbreast.’ What was + an apprehension or prophecy has become a dream, and the dream has become + an apparition of a robin-redbreast and a young woman. + </p> + <p> + If this excite suspicion, let us hasten to add that we have undesigned + evidence to Lord Lyttelton’s belief that he had beheld an APPARITION—evidence + a day earlier than the day of his death. Mrs. Piozzi (then Mrs. Thrale), + in her diary of Sunday, November 28, writes: ‘Yesterday a lady from Wales + dropped in and said that she had been at Drury Lane on Friday night. + “How,” I asked, “were you entertained?” “Very strangely indeed! Not with + the play, though, but the discourse of a Captain Ascough, who averred that + a friend of his, Lord Lyttelton, has SEEN A SPIRIT, who has warned him + that he will die in three days. I have thought of nothing else since.”’ + </p> + <p> + Next day, November 29, Mrs. Piozzi heard of Lord Lyttelton’s death.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Notes and Queries. Series V., vol. ii. p. 508. December 26,1874. +</pre> + <p> + Here is proof absolute that the story, with apparition, if not with robin, + was current THE DAY BEFORE LORD LYTTELTON’S DECEASE. + </p> + <p> + Of what did Lord Lyttelton die? + </p> + <p> + ‘According to one of the papers,’ says Coulton, vaguely, ‘the cause of + death was disease of the heart.’ A brief ‘convulsion’ is distinctly + mentioned, whence Coulton concludes that the disease was NOT cardiac. On + December 7, Mason writes to Walpole from York: ‘Suppose Lord Lyttelton had + recovered the breaking of his blood-vessel!’ + </p> + <p> + Was a broken blood-vessel the cause of death? or have we here, as is + probable, a mere inference of Mason’s? + </p> + <p> + Coulton’s account is meant to lead up to his theory of suicide. Lord + Lyttelton mentioned his apprehension of death ‘somewhat ostentatiously, we + think.’ According to Coulton, at 10 P.M. on Saturday, Lord Lyttelton, + looking at his watch, said: ‘Should I live two hours longer, I shall + jockey the ghost.’ Coulton thinks that it would have been ‘more natural’ + for him to await the fatal hour of midnight ‘in gay company’ than to go to + bed before twelve. He finishes the tale thus: Lord Lyttelton was taking + rhubarb in his bedroom; he sent his valet for a spoon, and the man, + returning, found him ‘on the point of dissolution.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘His family maintained a guarded and perhaps judicious silence on the + subject,’ yet Lord Westcote spoke of it to Dr. Johnson, and wrote an + account of it, and so did Lord Lyttelton’s widow; while Wraxall, as we + shall see, says that the Dowager Lady Lyttelton painted a picture of the + ‘warning’ in 1780. + </p> + <p> + Harping on suicide, Coulton quotes Scott’s statement in ‘Letters on + Demonology:’ ‘Of late it has been said, and PUBLISHED, that the + unfortunate nobleman had determined to take poison.’ Sir Walter gives no + authority, and Coulton admits that he knows of none. Gloomy but + commonplace reflections in the so-called ‘Letters’ of Lyttelton do not + even raise a presumption in favour of suicide, which, in these very + Letters, Lyttelton says that he cannot defend by argument.* That Lyttelton + made his will ‘a few weeks before his death,’ providing for his fair + victims, may be accounted for, as we shall see, by the threatening state + of his health, without any notion of self-destruction. Walpole, in his + three letters, only speaks of ‘a pistol’ as the common construction of + ‘sudden death;’ and that remark occurs before he has heard any details. He + rises from a mere statement of Lord Lyttelton’s, that he is ‘to die in + three days,’ to a ‘dream’ containing that assurance, and thence to + apparitions of a young woman and a robin-redbreast. The appearance of that + bird, by the way, is, in the folk-lore of Surrey, an omen of death. + Walpole was in a position to know all current gossip, and so was Mrs. + Piozzi. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Coulton’s argument requires him to postulate the authenticity of +many, at least, of these Letters, which were given to the world by the +author of ‘Doctor Syntax.’ +</pre> + <p> + We now turn to a narrative nearly contemporary, that written out by Lord + Westcote on February 13, 1780. Lord Westcote examined the eldest Miss + Amphlett, Captain (later Admiral) Charles Wolsley, Mrs. Flood, Lord + Lyttelton’s valet, Faulkner, and Stuckey, the servant in whose arms, so to + speak, Lord Lyttelton died. Stuckey was questioned (note this) in the + presence of Captain Wolsley and of MR. FORTESCUE. The late Lord Lyttelton + permitted the Westcote narrative to be published in ‘Notes and Queries’ + (November 21, 1874). The story, which so much pleased Dr. Johnson, runs + thus:—On Thursday, November 25, Mrs. Flood and the three Misses + Amphlett were residing at Lord Lyttelton’s house in Hill Street, Berkeley + Square. Who IS this Mrs. Flood? Frederick Flood (1741-1824) married LADY + Julia Annesley in 1782. The wife of the more famous Flood suits the case + no better: his wife was LADY F. M. Flood; she was a Beresford. (The + ‘Dictionary of National Biography’ is responsible for these facts.) At all + events, on November 25, at breakfast, in Hill Street, Lord Lyttelton told + the young ladies and their chaperon that he had had an extraordinary + DREAM. + </p> + <p> + He seemed to be in a room which a bird flew into; the bird changed into a + woman in white, who told him he should die in three days. + </p> + <p> + He ‘did not much regard it, because he could in some measure account for + it; for that a few days before he had been with Mrs. Dawson, when a + robin-redbreast flew into her room.’ On the morning of Saturday he told + the same ladies that he was very well, and believed he should ‘BILK THE + GHOST.’ The dream has become an apparition! On that day—Saturday—he, + with the ladies, Fortescue, and Wolsley, went to Pitt Place; he went to + bed after eleven, ordered rolls for breakfast, and, in bed, ‘died without + a groan,’ as his servant was disengaging him from his waistcoat. During + dinner he had ‘a rising in his throat’ (a slight sickness), ‘a thing which + had often happened to him before.’ His physician, Dr. Fothergill, vaguely + attributed his death to the rupture of some vessel in his side, where he + had felt a pain in summer. + </p> + <p> + From this version we may glean that Lord Lyttelton was not himself very + certain whether his vision occurred when he was awake or asleep. He is + made to speak of a ‘dream,’ and even to account for it in a probable way; + but later he talks of ‘bilking the GHOST.’ The editor of ‘Notes and + Queries’ now tries to annihilate this contemporary document by third-hand + evidence, seventy years after date. In 1851 or 1852 the late Dowager Lady + Lyttelton, Sarah, daughter of the second Earl Spencer, discussed the story + with Mr. Fortescue, a son of the Mr. Fortescue who was at Pitt Place, and + succeeded to the family title six years later, in 1785. The elder Mr. + Fortescue, in brief, is said to have averred that he had heard nothing of + the dream or prediction till ‘some days after;’ he, therefore, was + inclined to disbelieve in it. We have demonstrated, however, that if Mr. + Fortescue had heard nothing, yet the tale was all over the town before + Lord Lyttelton died. Nay, more, we have contemporary proof that Mr. + Fortescue HAD heard of the affair! Lyttelton died at midnight on the + Saturday, November 27. In her diary for the following Tuesday (November + 30), Lady Mary Coke says that she has just heard the story of the ‘dream’ + from Lady Bute, who had it from Mr. Ross, WHO HAD IT FROM MR. FORTESCUE!* + Mr. Fortescue, then, must have told the tale as early as the Monday after + the fatal Saturday night. Yet in old age he seems to have persuaded + himself that the tale came later to his knowledge. Some irrelevant, late, + and fourth-hand versions will be found in ‘Notes and Queries,’ but they + merely illustrate the badness of such testimony. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *See The Letters and Journals of Lady Mary Coke, iii. 85. Note—She +speaks of ‘a dream.’ +</pre> + <p> + One trifle of contemporary evidence may be added: Mrs. Delany, on December + 9, 1779, wrote an account of the affair to her niece—here a bird + turns into a woman. + </p> + <p> + In pursuit of evidence, it is a long way from 1780 to 1816. In November of + that year, T. J. wrote from Pitt Place, Epsom, in ‘The Gentleman’s + Magazine;’ but his letter is dated ‘January 6.’ T. J. has bought Pitt + Place, and gives ‘a copy of a document in writing, left in the house’ + (where Lyttelton died) ‘as an heirloom which may be depended on.’ This + document begins, ‘Lord Lyttelton’s Dream and Death (see Admiral Wolsley’s + account).’ + </p> + <p> + But where IS Admiral Wolsley’s account? Is it in the archives of Sir + Charles Wolseley of Wolseley? Or is THIS (the Pitt Place document) Admiral + Wolsley’s account? The anonymous author says that he was one of the party + at Pitt Place on November 27,1779, with ‘Lord Fortescue,’ ‘Lady Flood,’ + and the two Misses Amphlett. Consequently this account is written after + 1785, when Mr. Fortescue succeeded to his title. Lord Lyttelton, not long + returned from Ireland, had been suffering from ‘suffocating fits’ in the + last month. And THIS, not the purpose of suicide, was probably his reason + for executing his will. ‘While in his house in Hill Street, Berkeley + Square, he DREAMT three days before his death he saw a bird fluttering, + and afterwards a woman appeared in white apparel, and said, “Prepare to + meet your death in three days.” He was alarmed and called his servant. On + the third day, while at breakfast with the above-named persons, he said, + “I have jockeyed the ghost, as this is the third day.”’ Coulton places + this incident at 10 P.M. on Saturday, and makes his lordship say, ‘In two + hours I shall jockey the ghost.’ ‘The whole party set out for Pitt Place,’ + which contradicts Coulton’s statement that they set out on Friday, but + agrees with Lord Westcote’s. ‘They had not long arrived when he was seized + with a usual fit. Soon recovered. Dined at five. To bed at eleven.’ Then + we hear how he rebuked his servant for stirring his rhubarb ‘with a + tooth-pick’ (a plausible touch), sent him for a spoon, and was ‘in a fit’ + on the man’s return. ‘The pillow being high, his chin bore hard on his + neck. Instead of relieving him, the man ran for help: on his return found + him dead.’ + </p> + <p> + This undated and unsigned document, by a person who professes to have been + present, is not, perhaps, very accurate in dates. The phrase ‘dreamt’ is + to be taken as the common-sense way of stating that Lord Lyttelton had a + vision of some sort. His lordship, who spoke of ‘jockeying the GHOST,’ may + have believed that he was awake at the time, not dreaming; but no person + of self-respect, in these unpsychical days, could admit more than a dream. + Perhaps this remark also applies to Walpole’s ‘he dreamed.’ The species of + the bird is left in the vague. + </p> + <p> + Moving further from the event, to 1828, we find a book styled ‘Past + Feelings Renovated,’ a reply to Dr. Hibbert’s ‘Philosophy of Apparitions.’ + The anonymous author is ‘struck with the total inadequacy of Dr. Hibbert’s + theory.’ Among his stories he quotes Wraxall’s ‘Memoirs.’ In 1783, Wraxall + dined at Pitt Place, and visited ‘the bedroom where the casement window at + which Lord Lyttelton asserted the DOVE appeared to flutter* was pointed + out to me.’ Now the Pitt Place document puts the vision ‘in Hill Street, + Berkeley Square.’ So does Lord Westcote. Even a bird cannot be in two + places at once, and the ‘Pitt Place Anonymous’ does seem to know what he + is talking about. Of course Lord Lyttelton MAY have been at Pitt Place on + November 24, and had his dream there. He MAY have run up to Hill Street on + the 25th and delivered his speech, and MAY have returned to Pitt Place on + the Friday or Saturday.** But we have no evidence for this view; and the + Pitt Place document places the vision in Hill Street. Wraxall adds that he + has frequently seen a painting of bird, ghost, and Lord Lyttelton, which + was executed by that nobleman’s stepmother in 1780. It was done ‘after the + description given to her by the valet de chambre who attended him, to whom + his master related all the circumstances.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *It was a ROBIN in 1779. + + **Coulton says Friday; the Anonymous says Saturday, with Lord Westcote. +</pre> + <p> + Our author of 1828 next produces the narrative by Lord Lyttelton’s widow, + Mrs. Peach, who was so soon deserted. In 1828 she is ‘now alive, and + resident in the south-west part of Warwickshire.’ According to Lady + Lyttelton (who, of course, was not present), Lord Lyttelton had gone to + bed, whether in Hill Street or Pitt Place we are not told. His candle was + extinguished, when he heard ‘a noise resembling the fluttering of a bird + at his chamber window. Looking in the direction of the sound, he saw the + figure of an unhappy female, whom he had seduced and deserted, and who, + when deserted, had put a violent end to her own existence, standing in the + aperture of the window from which the fluttering sound had proceeded. The + form approached the foot of the bed: the room was preternaturally light; + the objects in the chamber were distinctly visible. The figure pointed to + a clock, and announced that Lord Lyttelton would expire AT THAT VERY HOUR + (twelve o’clock) in the third day after the visitation.’ + </p> + <p> + We greatly prefer, as a good old-fashioned ghost story, this version of + Lady Lyttelton’s. There is no real bird, only a fluttering sound, as in + the case of the Cock Lane Ghost, and many other examples. The room is + ‘preternaturally light,’ as in Greek and Norse belief it should have been, + and as it is in the best modern ghost stories. Moreover, we have the + raison d’etre of the ghost: she had been a victim of the Chief Justice in + Eyre. The touch about the clock is in good taste. We did not know all that + before. + </p> + <p> + But, alas! our author of 1828, after quoting the Pitt Place Anonymous, + proceeds to tell, citing no named authority, that the ghost was that of + Mrs. Amphlett, mother of the two Misses Amphlett, and of a third sister, + in no way less distinguished than these by his lordship. Now a ghost + cannot be the ghost of two different people. Moreover, Mrs. Amphlett lived + (it is said) for years after. However, Mrs. Amphlett has the preference if + she ‘died of grief at the precise time when the female vision appeared to + his lordship,’ which makes it odd that her daughters should then have been + revelling at Pitt Place under the chaperonage of Mrs. Flood. We are also + informed (on no authority) that Lord Lyttelton ‘acknowledged’ the ghost to + have been that of the injured mother of the three Misses Amphlett. + </p> + <p> + Let not the weary reader imagine that the catena of evidence ends here! + His lordship’s own ghost did a separate stroke of business, though only in + the commonplace character of a deathbed wraith, or ‘veridical + hallucination.’ + </p> + <p> + Lord Lyttelton had a friend, we learn from ‘Past Feelings Renovated’ + (1828), a friend named Miles Peter Andrews. ‘One night after Mr. Andrews + had left Pitt Place and gone to Dartford,’ where he owned powder-mills, + his bed-curtains were pulled open and Lord Lyttelton appeared before him + in his robe de chambre and nightcap. Mr. Andrews reproached him for coming + to Dartford Mills in such a guise, at such a time of night, and, ‘turning + to the other side of the bed, rang the bell, when Lord Lyttelton had + disappeared.’ The house and garden were searched in vain; and about four + in the afternoon a friend arrived at Dartford with tidings of his + lordship’s death. + </p> + <p> + Here the reader with true common sense remarks that this second ghost, + Lord Lyttelton’s own, does not appear in evidence till 1828, fifty years + after date, and then in an anonymous book, on no authority. We have + permitted to the reader this opportunity of exercising his acuteness, + while laying a little trap for him. It is not in 1828 that Mr. Andrews’s + story first appears. We first find it in December 1779—that is, in + the month following the alleged event. Mr. Andrews’s experience, and the + vision of Lord Lyttelton, are both printed in ‘The Scots Magazine,’ + December 1779, p. 650. The account is headed ‘A Dream,’ and yet the author + avers that Lord Lyttelton was wide awake! This illustrates beautifully the + fact on which we insist, that ‘dream’ is eighteenth-century English for + ghost, vision, hallucination, or what you will. + </p> + <p> + ‘Lord Lyttelton,’ says the contemporary ‘Scots Magazine,’ ‘started up from + a midnight sleep on perceiving a bird fluttering near the bed-curtains, + which vanished suddenly when a female spirit in white raiment presented + herself’ and prophesied Lord Lyttelton’s death in three days. His death is + attributed to convulsions while undressing. + </p> + <p> + The ‘dream’ of Mr. Andrews (according to ‘The Scots Magazine’ of December + 1779)* occurred at Dartford in Kent, on the night of November 27. It + represented Lord Lyttelton drawing his bed-curtains, and saying, ‘It is + all over,’ or some such words. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *The magazine appeared at the end of December. +</pre> + <p> + This Mr. Andrews had been a drysalter. He made a large fortune, owned the + powder-mills at Dartford, sat in Parliament, wrote plays which had some + success, and was thought a good fellow in raffish society. Indeed, the + society was not always raffish. In ‘Notes and Queries’ (December 26, 1874) + H. S. says that his mother, daughter of Sir George Prescott, often met Mr. + Andrews at their house, Theobalds Park, Herts. He was extremely agreeable, + and, if pressed, would tell his little anecdote of November 27, 1779. + </p> + <p> + This proof that the Andrews tale is contemporary has led us away from the + description of the final scene, given in ‘Past Feelings Renovated,’ by the + person who brought the news to Mr. Andrews. His version includes a trick + played with the watches and clocks. All were set on half an hour; the + valet secretly made the change in Lord Lyttelton’s own timepiece. His + lordship thus went to bed, as he thought, at 11.30, really at eleven + o’clock, as in the Pitt Place document. At about twelve o’clock, midnight, + the valet rushed in among the guests, who were discussing the odd + circumstances, and said that his master was at the point of death. Lord + Lyttelton had kept looking at his watch, and at a quarter past twelve (by + his chronometer and his valet’s) he remarked, ‘This mysterious lady is not + a true prophetess, I find.’ The real hour was then a quarter to twelve. At + about half-past twelve, by HIS watch, twelve by the real time, he asked + for his physic. The valet went into the dressing-room to prepare it (to + fetch a spoon by other versions), when he heard his master ‘breathing very + hard.’ ‘I ran to him, and found him in the agonies of death.’ + </p> + <p> + There is something rather plausible in this narrative, corresponding, as + it does, with the Pitt Place document, in which the valet, finding his + master in a fit, leaves him and seeks assistance, instead of lowering his + head that he might breathe more easily. Like the other, this tale makes + suicide a most improbable explanation of Lord Lyttelton’s death. The + affair of the watches is dramatic, but not improbable in itself. A + correspondent of ‘The Gentleman’s Magazine’ (in 1815) only cites ‘a London + paper’ as his authority. The writer of ‘Past Feelings Renovated’ (1828) + adds that Mr. Andrews could never again be induced to sleep at Pitt Place, + but, when visiting there, always lay at the Spread Eagle, in Epsom. + </p> + <p> + Let us now tabulate our results. + </p> + <p> + At Pitt Place, Epsom, or Hill Street, Berkeley Square, On November 24, + Lord Lyttelton Dreamed of, or saw, A young woman and a robin. A bird which + became a woman. A dove and a woman. Mrs. Amphlett (without a dove or + robin). Some one else unknown. + </p> + <p> + In one variant, a clock and a preternatural light are thrown in, with a + sermon which it were superfluous to quote. In another we have the + derangement of clocks and watches. Lord Lyttelton’s stepmother believed in + the dove. Lady Lyttelton did without a dove, but admitted a fluttering + sound. + </p> + <p> + For causes of death we have—heart disease (a newspaper), breaking of + a blood-vessel (Mason), suicide (Coulton), and ‘a suffocating fit’ (Pitt + Place document). The balance is in favour of a suffocating fit, and is + against suicide. On the whole, if we follow the Pitt Place Anonymous + (writing some time after the event, for he calls Mr. Fortescue ‘Lord + Fortescue’), we may conclude that Lord Lyttelton had been ill for some + time. The making of his will suggests a natural apprehension on his part, + rather than a purpose of suicide. There was a lively impression of coming + death on his mind, but how it was made—whether by a dream, an + hallucination, or what not—there is no good evidence to show. + </p> + <p> + There is every reason to believe, on the Pitt Place evidence, combined + with the making of his will, that Lord Lyttelton had really, for some + time, suffered from alarming attacks of breathlessness, due to what cause + physicians may conjecture. Any one of these fits, probably, might cause + death, if the obvious precaution of freeing the head and throat from + encumbrances were neglected; and the Pitt Place document asserts that the + frightened valet DID neglect it. Again, that persons under the strong + conviction of approaching death will actually die is proved by many + examples. Even Dr. Hibbert says that ‘no reasonable doubt can be placed on + the authenticity of the narrative’ of Miss Lee’s death, ‘as it was drawn + up by the Bishop of Gloucester’ (Dr. William Nicholson) ‘from the recital + of the young lady’s father,’ Sir Charles Lee. Every one knows the tale. In + a preternatural light, in a midnight chamber, Miss Lee saw a woman, who + proclaimed herself Miss Lee’s dead mother, ‘and that by twelve o’clock of + the day she should be with her.’ So Miss Lee died in her chair next day, + on the stroke of noon, and Dr. Hibbert rather heartlessly calls this ‘a + fortunate circumstance.’ + </p> + <p> + The Rev. Mr. Fison, in ‘Kamilaroi and Kurnai,’ gives, from his own + experience, similar tales of death following alleged ghostly warnings, + among Fijians and Australian blacks. Lord Lyttelton’s uneasiness and + apprehension are conspicuous in all versions; his dreams had long been + troubled, his health had caused him anxiety, the ‘warning’ (whatever it + may have been) clinched the matter, and he died a perfectly natural death. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Coulton, omitting Walpole’s statement that he ‘looked ill,’ and never + alluding to the Pitt Place description of his very alarming symptoms, but + clinging fondly to his theory of Junius, perorates thus: ‘Not Dante, or + Milton, or Shakespeare himself, could have struck forth a finer conception + than Junius, in the pride of rank, wealth, and dignities, raised to the + Council table of the sovereign he had so foully slandered—yet sick + at heart and deeply stained with every profligacy—terminating his + career by deliberate self-murder, with every accompaniment of audacious + charlatanry that could conceal the crime.’ + </p> + <p> + It is magnificent, it is worthy of Dante, or Shakespeare himself—but + the conception is Mr. Coulton’s. + </p> + <p> + We do not think that we have provided what Dr. Johnson ‘liked,’ ‘evidence + for the spiritual world.’ Nor have we any evidence explanatory of the + precise nature of Lord Lyttelton’s hallucination. The problem of the + authorship of the ‘Junius Letters’ is a malstrom into which we decline to + be drawn. + </p> + <p> + But it is fair to observe that all the discrepancies in the story of the + ‘warning’ are not more numerous, nor more at variance with each other, + than remote hearsay reports of any ordinary occurrence are apt to be. And + we think it is plain that, if Lord Lyttelton WAS Junius, Mr. Coulton had + no right to allege that Junius went and hanged himself, or, in any other + way, was guilty of self-murder. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. THE MYSTERY OF AMY ROBSART + </h2> + <p> + 1. HISTORICAL CONFUSIONS AS TO EVENTS BEFORE AMY’S DEATH + </p> + <p> + Let him who would weep over the tribulations of the historical inquirer + attend to the tale of the Mystery of Amy Robsart! + </p> + <p> + The student must dismiss from his memory all that he recollects of Scott’s + ‘Kenilworth.’ Sir Walter’s chivalrous motto was ‘No scandal about Queen + Elizabeth,’ ‘tis blazoned on his title-page. To avoid scandal, he calmly + cast his narrative at a date some fifteen years after Amy Robsart’s death, + brought Amy alive, and represented Queen Elizabeth as ignorant of her very + existence. He might, had he chosen, have proved to his readers that, as + regards Amy Robsart and her death, Elizabeth was in a position almost as + equivocal as was Mary Stuart in regard to the murder of Darnley. Before + the murder of Darnley we do not hear one word to suggest that Mary was in + love with Bothwell. For many months before the death of Amy (Lady Robert + Dudley), we hear constant reports that Elizabeth has a love affair with + Lord Robert, and that Amy is to be divorced or murdered. When Darnley is + killed, a mock investigation acquits Bothwell, and Mary loads him with + honours and rewards. When Amy dies mysteriously, a coroner’s inquest, deep + in the country, is held, and no records of its proceedings can be found. + Its verdict is unknown. After a brief tiff, Elizabeth restores Lord Robert + to favour. + </p> + <p> + After Darnley’s murder, Mary’s ambassador in France implores her to + investigate the matter with all diligence. After Amy’s death, Elizabeth’s + ambassador in France implores her to investigate the matter with all + diligence. Neither lady listens to her loyal servant, indeed Mary could + not have pursued the inquiry, however innocent she might have been. + Elizabeth could! In three months after Darnley’s murder, Mary married + Bothwell. In two months after Amy’s death Cecil told (apparently) the + Spanish ambassador that Elizabeth had married Lord Robert Dudley. But this + point, we shall see, is dubious. + </p> + <p> + There the parallel ceases, for, in all probability, Lord Robert was not + art and part in Amy’s death, and, whatever Elizabeth may have done in + private, she certainly did not publicly espouse Lord Robert. A Scot as + patriotic as, but less chivalrous than, Sir Walter might, however, have + given us a romance of Cumnor Place in which Mary would have been avenged + on ‘her sister and her foe.’ He abstained, but wove a tale so full of + conscious anachronisms that we must dismiss it from our minds. + </p> + <p> + Amy Robsart was the only daughter of Sir John Robsart and his wife + Elizabeth, nee Scot, and widow of Roger Appleyard, a man of good old + Norfolk family. This Roger Appleyard, dying on June 8, 1528, left a son + and heir, John, aged less than two years. His widow, Elizabeth, had the + life interest in his four manors, and, as we saw, she married Sir John + Robsart, and by him became the mother of Amy, who had also a brother on + the paternal side, Arthur Robsart, whether legitimately born or not.* Both + these brothers play a part in the sequel of the mystery. Lord Robert + Dudley, son of John, Duke of Northumberland, and grandson of the Dudley + who, with Empson, was so unpopular under Henry VII., was about seventeen + or eighteen when he married Amy Robsart—herself perhaps a year older—on + June 4, 1550. At that time his father was Earl of Warwick; the wedding is + chronicled in the diary of the child king, Edward VI.** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Mr. Walter Rye in The Murder of Amy Robsart, Norwich and London, +1885, makes Arthur a bastard. Mr. Pettigrew, in An Inquiry into the +Particulars connected with the Death of Amy Robsart (London, 1859), +represents Arthur as legitimate. + + **Mr. Rye dates the marriage in 1550. +Rye, pp. 5, 36, cf. Edward VI.‘s Diary, Clarendon Society. Mr. Froude +cites the date, June 4, 1549, from Burnet’s Collectanea, Froude, vi. +p. 422, note 2 (1898), being misled by Old Style; Edward VI. notes the +close of 1549 on March 24. +</pre> + <p> + Amy, as the daughter of a rich knight, was (at least if we regard her + brother Arthur as a bastard) a considerable heiress. Robert Dudley was a + younger son. Probably the match was a family arrangement, but Mr. Froude + says ‘it was a love match.’ His reason for this assertion seems to rest on + a misunderstanding. In 1566-67, six years after Amy’s death, Cecil drew up + a list of the merits and demerits of Dudley (by that time Earl of + Leicester) and of the Archduke Charles, as possible husbands of Elizabeth. + Among other points is noted by Cecil, ‘Likelihood to Love his Wife.’ As to + the Archduke, Cecil takes a line through his father, who ‘hath been + blessed with multitude of children.’ As to Leicester, Cecil writes + ‘Nuptiae carnales a laetitia incipiunt, et in luctu terminantur’—‘Weddings + of passion begin in joy and end in grief.’ This is not a reference, as Mr. + Froude thought, to the marriage of Amy and Dudley, it is merely a general + maxim, applicable to a marriage between Elizabeth and Leicester. The + Queen, according to accounts from all quarters, had a physical passion or + caprice for Leicester. The marriage, if it occurred, would be nuptiae + carnales, and as such, in Cecil’s view, likely to end badly, while the + Queen and the Archduke (the alternative suitor) had never seen each other + and could not be ‘carnally’ affectionate.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Froude, ut supra, note 3. +</pre> + <p> + We do not know, in short, whether Dudley and Amy were in love with each + other or not. Their marriage, Cecil says, was childless. + </p> + <p> + Concerning the married life of Dudley and Amy very little is known. When + he was a prisoner in the Tower under Mary Tudor, Amy was allowed to visit + him. She lost her father, Sir John, in 1553. Two undated letters of Amy’s + exist: one shows that she was trusted by her husband in the management of + his affairs (1556-57) and that both he and she were anxious to act + honourably by some poor persons to whom money was due.* The other is to a + woman’s tailor, and, though merely concerned with gowns and collars, is + written in a style of courteous friendliness.** Both letters, in + orthography and sentiment, do credit to Amy’s education and character. + There is certainly nothing vague or morbid or indicative of an unbalanced + mind in these poor epistles. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pettigrew, 14, note 1. + + **Jackson, Nineteenth Century, March 1882, A Longleat MS. +</pre> + <p> + When Elizabeth came to the throne (1558) she at once made Dudley Master of + the Horse, a Privy Councillor, and a Knight of the Garter. His office + necessarily caused him to be in constant attendance on the royal person, + and the Knighthood of the Garter proves that he stood in the highest + degree of favour. + </p> + <p> + For whatever reason, whether from distaste for Court life, or because of + the confessed jealousy with which the Queen regarded the wives of her + favourites—of all men, indeed—Amy did not come to Court. About + 1558-59 she lived mainly at the country house of the Hydes of Detchworth, + not far from Abingdon. Dudley seems to have paid several visits to the + Hydes, his connections; this is proved by entries in his household books + of sums of money for card-playing there.* It is also certain that Amy at + that date, down to the end of 1559, travelled about freely, to London and + many other places; that she had twelve horses at her service; and that, as + late as March 1560 (when resident with Dudley’s comptroller, Forster, at + Cumnor Place) she was buying a velvet hat and shoes. In brief, though she + can have seen but little of her husband, she was obviously at liberty, + lived till 1560 among honourable people, her connections, and, in things + material, wanted for nothing.** Yet Amy cannot but have been miserable by + 1560. The extraordinary favour in which Elizabeth held her lord caused the + lewdest stories to spread among all classes, from the circle of the Court + to the tattle of country folk in Essex and Devonshire.*** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Jackson, ut supra. + + **For details see Canon Jackson’s ‘Amy Robsart,’ Nineteenth Century, +vol. xi. Canon Jackson used documents in the possession of the Marquis +of Bath, at Longleat. + + ***Cal. Dom. Eliz. p. 157, August 13, 1560; also +Hatfield Calendar. +</pre> + <p> + News of this kind is certain to reach the persons concerned. + </p> + <p> + Our chief authority for the gossip about Elizabeth and Dudley is to be + found in the despatches of the Spanish ambassadors to their master, Philip + of Spain. The fortunes of Western Europe, perhaps of the Church herself, + hung on Elizabeth’s marriage and on the succession to the English throne. + The ambassadors, whatever their other failings, were undoubtedly loyal to + Philip and to the Church, and they were not men to be deceived by the + gossip of every gobemouche. The command of money gave them good + intelligence, they were fair judges of evidence, and what they told Philip + was what they regarded as well worthy of his attention. They certainly + were not deceiving Philip. + </p> + <p> + The evidence of the Spanish ambassadors, as men concerned to find out the + truth and to tell it, is therefore of the highest importance. They are not + writing mere amusing chroniques scandaleuses of the court to which they + are accredited, as ambassadors have often done, and what they hear is + sometimes so bad that they decline to put it on paper. They are serious + and wary men of the world. Unhappily their valuable despatches, now in + ‘the Castilian village of Simancas,’ reach English inquirers in the most + mangled and garbled condition. Major Martin Hume, editor of the Spanish + Calendar (1892), tells us in the Introduction to the first volume of this + official publication how the land lies. Not to speak of the partial + English translation (1865) of Gonzales’s partial summary of the despatches + (Madrid, 1832) we have the fruits of the labours of Mr. Froude. He visited + Simancas, consulted the original documents, and ‘had a large number of + copies and extracts made.’ These extracts and transcripts Mr. Froude + deposited in the British Museum. These transcripts, compared with the + portions translated in Mr. Froude’s great book, enable us to understand + the causes of certain confusions in Amy Robsart’s mystery. Mr. Froude + practically aimed at giving the gist, as he conceived it, of the original + papers of the period, which he rendered with freedom, and in his + captivating style—foreign to the perplexed prolixity of the actual + writers. But, in this process, points of importance might be omitted; and, + in certain cases, words from letters of other dates appear to have been + inserted by Mr. Froude, to clear up the situation. The result is not + always satisfactory. + </p> + <p> + Next, from 1886 onwards, the Spanish Government published five volumes of + the correspondence of Philip with his ambassadors at the English Court.* + These papers Major Hume was to condense and edit for our official + publication, the Spanish State Papers, in the series of the Master of the + Rolls. But Major Hume found the papers in the Spanish official publication + in a deplorably unedited state. Copyists and compositors ‘seem to have had + a free hand.’ Major Hume therefore compared the printed Spanish texts, + where he could, with Mr. Froude’s transcripts of the same documents in the + Museum, and the most important letter in this dark affair, in our Spanish + Calendar, follows incorrectly Mr. Froude’s transcript, NOT the original + document, which is not printed in ‘Documentos Ineditos.‘** Thus, Major + Hume’s translation differs from Mr. Froude’s translation, which, again, + differs from Mr. Gairdner’s translation of the original text as published + by the Baron Kervyn de Lettenhove.*** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Documentos Ineditos para la Historia de Espana. Ginesta, Madrid, +1886. + + **Spanish Calendar, vol. i. p. iv. Mr. Gairdner says, ‘Major Hume +in preparing his first volume, he informs me, took transcripts from +Simancas of all the direct English correspondence,’ but for letters +between England and Flanders used Mr. Froude’s transcripts. Gairdner, +English Historical Review, January 1898, note 1. + + ***Relations Politiquesdes Pays-Bas et de l’Anqleterre sous le Regne +de Philippe II. vol. ii. pp. 529-533. Brussels, 1883. +</pre> + <p> + The amateur of truth, being now fully apprised of the ‘hazards’ which add + variety to the links of history, turns to the Spanish Calendar for the + reports of the ambassadors. He reaches April 18, 1559, when de Feria says: + ‘Lord Robert has come so much into favour that he does whatever he likes + with affairs, and it is even said that her Majesty visits him in his + chamber day and night. People talk of this so freely that they go so far + as to say that his wife has a malady in one of her breasts and the Queen + is only waiting for her to die to marry Lord Robert.’ + </p> + <p> + De Feria therefore suggests that Philip might come to terms with Lord + Robert. Again, on April 29, 1559, de Feria writes (according to the + Calendar): ‘Sometimes she’ (Elizabeth) ‘appears to want to marry him’ + (Archduke Ferdinand) ‘and speaks like a woman who will only accept a great + prince, and then they say she is in love with Lord Robert, and never lets + him leave her.’ De Feria has reason to believe that ‘she will never bear + children’ * + </p> + <p> + Sp. Cal. i. pp. 57, 58, 63; Doc. Ineditos, 87, 171, 180. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Froude combines these two passages in one quotation, putting the + second part (of April 29) first, thus: ‘They tell me that she is enamoured + of my Lord Robert Dudley, and will never let him leave her side. HE OFFERS + ME HIS SERVICES IN BEHALF OF THE ARCH DUKE, BUT I DOUBT WHETHER IT WILL BE + WELL TO USE THEM. He is in such favour that people say she visits him in + his chamber day and night. Nay, it is even reported that his wife has a + cancer on her breast, and that the Queen waits only till she die to marry + him.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Froude, vi. p. 199. De Feria to Philip, April 28 and April 29. +MS. Simancas, cf. Documentos Ineditos, pp. 87, 171, 180, ut supra. +</pre> + <p> + The sentence printed in capitals cannot be found by me in either of de + Feria’s letters quoted by Mr. Froude, but the sense of it occurs in a + letter written at another date. Mr. Froude has placed, in his quotation, + first a sentence of the letter of April 29, then a sentence not in either + letter (as far as the Calendar and printed Spanish documents show), then + sentences from the letter of April 18. He goes on to remark that the + marriage of Amy and Dudley ‘was a love match of a doubtful kind,’ about + which we have, as has been shown, no information whatever. Such are the + pitfalls which strew the path of inquiry. + </p> + <p> + One thing is plain, a year and a half before her death Amy was regarded as + a person who would be ‘better dead,’ and Elizabeth was said to love + Dudley, on whom she showered honours and gifts. + </p> + <p> + De Feria, in the summer of 1559, was succeeded as ambassador by de Quadra, + bishop of Aquila. Dudley and his sister, Lady Sidney (mother of Sir Philip + Sidney), now seemed to favour Spanish projects, but (November 13) de + Quadra writes: ‘I heard from a certain person who is accustomed to give + veracious news that Lord Robert has sent to poison his wife. Certainly all + the Queen has done with us and with the Swede, and will do with the rest + in the matter of her marriage, is only keeping Lord Robert’s enemies and + the country engaged with words until this wicked deed of killing his wife + is consummated.’ The enemies of Dudley included the Duke of Norfolk, and + most of the nation. There was talk of a plot to destroy both Dudley and + the Queen. ‘The Duke and the rest of them cannot put up with Lord Robert’s + being king.‘* Further, and later, on January 16, 1560 (Amy being now + probably at Cumnor), de Quadra writes to de Feria that Baron Preyner, a + German diplomatist, will tell him what he knows of the poison for the wife + of Milort Robert (Dudley), ‘an important story and necessary to be + known.‘** Thus between November 1559 and January 1560, the talk is that + Amy shall be poisoned, and this tale runs round the Courts of Europe. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Sp. Cal. i. pp. 112-114. + + **Relations Politiques, Lettenhove, ii. p. 187. +</pre> + <p> + Mr. Froude gives, what the Calendar does not, a letter of de Quadra to de + Feria and the Bishop of Arras (January 15, 1560). ‘In Lord Robert it is + easy to recognise the king that is to be... There is not a man who does + not cry out on him and her with indignation.‘* ‘She will marry none but + the favoured Robert.‘** On March 7, 1560, de Quadra tells de Feria: ‘Not a + man in this country but cries out that this fellow’ (Dudley) ‘is ruining + the country with his vanity.‘*** ‘Is ruining the country AND THE QUEEN,’ + is in the original Spanish. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Froude, vi. p. 311. + + **Relations Politiques, ii. 87, 183, 184. + + ***Sp. Cal. i. p. 133. Major Hume translates the text of Mr. Froude’s +transcript in the British Museum. It is a mere fragment; in 1883 the +whole despatch was printed by Baron Kervyn de Lettenhove. +</pre> + <p> + On March 28 (Calendar), on March 27 (Froude) de Quadra wrote to Philip—(Calendar)— ‘I + have understood Lord Robert told somebody, who has not kept silence, that + if he live another year he will be in a very different position from now. + He is laying in a good stock of arms, and is assuming every day a more + masterful part in affairs. They say that he thinks of divorcing his + wife.‘* So the Calendar. Mr. Froude condenses his Spanish author THUS:** + ‘Lord Robert says that if he lives a year he will be in another position + from that which he at present holds. Every day he presumes more and more, + and it is now said that he means to divorce his wife.’ From the evidence + of the Spanish ambassadors, it is clear that an insurance office would + only have accepted Amy Robsart’s life, however excellent her health, at a + very high premium. Her situation was much like that of Darnley in the + winter of 1566-67, when ‘every one in Scotland who had the smallest + judgment’ knew that ‘he could not long continue,’ that his doom was dight. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Sp. Cal. i, p. 141. + + **Froude, vi. p. 340. +</pre> + <p> + Meanwhile, through the winter, spring, and early summer of 1560, + diplomatists and politicians were more concerned about the war of the + Congregation against Mary of Guise in Scotland, with the English alliance + with the Scottish Protestant rebels, with the siege of Leith, and with + Cecil’s negotiations resulting in the treaty of Edinburgh, than even with + Elizabeth’s marriage, and her dalliance with Dudley. + </p> + <p> + All this time, Amy was living at Cumnor Place, about three miles from + Oxford. Precisely at what date she took up her abode there is not certain, + probably about the time when de Quadra heard that Lord Robert had sent to + poison his wife, the November of 1559. Others say in March 1560. The house + was rented from a Dr. Owen by Anthony Forster. This gentleman was of an + old and good family, well known since the time of Edward I.; his wife + also, Ann Williams, daughter of Reginald Williams of Burghfield, Berks, + was a lady of excellent social position. Forster himself had estates in + several counties, and obtained many grants of land after Amy’s death. He + died in 1572, leaving a very equitable distribution of his properties; + Cumnor he bought from Dr. Owen soon after the death of Amy. In his + bequests he did not forget the Master, Fellows, and Scholars of Balliol.* + There is nothing suspicious about Forster, who was treasurer or + comptroller of Leicester’s household expenses: in writing, Leicester signs + himself ‘your loving Master.’ At Cumnor Place also lived Mrs. Owen, wife + of Dr. Owen, the owner of the house, and physician to the Queen. There + was, too, a Mrs. Oddingsell, of respectable family, one of the Hydes of + Denchworth. That any or all of these persons should be concerned in + abetting or shielding a murder seems in the highest degree improbable. + Cumnor Place was in no respect like Kirk o’ Field, as regards the + character of its inhabitants. It was, however, a lonely house, and, on the + day of Amy’s death, her own servants (apparently by her own desire) were + absent. And Amy, like Darnley, was found dead on a Sunday night, no man to + this day knowing the actual cause of death in either case. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pettigrew, pp. 19-22. +</pre> + <p> + Here it may be well to consider the version of the tragedy as printed, + twenty-four years after the event, by the deadly enemies of Lord Robert, + now Earl of Leicester. This is the version which, many years later, aided + by local tradition, was used in Ashmole’s account in his ‘History and + Antiquities of Berkshire,’ while Sir Walter employed Ashmole’s account as + the basis of his romance. We find the PRINTED copy of the book usually + known as ‘Leicester’s Commonwealth’ dated 1584, but probably it had been + earlier circulated in manuscript copies, of which several exist.* It + purports to be a letter written by a M.A. of Cambridge to a friend in + London, containing ‘some talk passed of late’ about Leicester. Doubtless + it DOES represent the talk against Leicester that had been passing, at + home and abroad, ever since 1560. Such talk, after twenty years, could not + be accurate. The point of the writer is that Leicester is lucky in the + deaths of inconvenient people. Thus, when he was ‘in full hope to marry’ + the Queen ‘he did but send his wife aside, to the house of his servant, + Forster of Cumnor, by Oxford, where shortly after she had the chance to + fall from a pair of stairs, and so to break her neck, but yet without + hurting of her hood, that stood upon her head.’ Except for the hood, of + which we know nothing, all this is correct. In the next sentence we read: + ‘But Sir Richard Verney, who, by commandment, remained with her that day + alone, with one man only, and had sent away perforce all her servants from + her, to a market two miles off, he, I say, with his man, can tell how she + died.’ The man was privily killed in prison, where he lay for another + offence, because he ‘offered to publish’ the fact; and Verney, about the + same time, died in London, after raving about devils ‘to a gentleman of + worship of mine acquaintance.’ ‘The wife also of Bald Buttler, kinsman to + my Lord, gave out the whole fact a little before her death.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pettigrew, pp. 9, 10. +</pre> + <p> + Verney, and the man, are never mentioned in contemporary papers: two Mrs. + Buttelars were mourners at Amy’s funeral. Verney is obscure: Canon Jackson + argues that he was of the Warwickshire Verneys; Mr. Rye holds that he was + of the Bucks and Herts Verneys, connections of the Dudleys. But, finding a + Richard Verney made sheriff of Warwick and Leicester in 1562, Mr. Rye + absurdly says: ‘The former county being that in which the murder was + committed,’ he ‘was placed in the position to suppress any unpleasant + rumours.‘* Amy died, of course, in Berkshire, not in Warwickshire. A + Richard Verney, not the Warwickshire Sir Richard, according to Mr. Rye, on + July 30, 1572, became Marshal of the Marshalsea, ‘when John Appleyard, + Amy’s half-brother, was turned out.’ This Verney died before November 15, + 1575. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Rye, p. 55. +</pre> + <p> + Of Appleyard we shall hear plenty: Leicester had favoured him (he was + Leicester’s brother-in-law), and he turned against his patron on the + matter of Amy’s death. Probably the Richard Verney who died in 1575 was + the Verney aimed at in ‘Leicester’s Commonwealth.’ He was a kind of + retainer of Dudley, otherwise he would not have been selected by the + author of the libel. But we know nothing to prove that he was at Cumnor on + September 8, 1560. + </p> + <p> + The most remarkable point in the libel avers that Leicester’s first idea + was to poison Amy. This had been asserted by de Quadra as early as + November 1559. The libel avers that the conspirators, ‘seeing the good + lady sad and heavy,’ asked Dr. Bayly, of Oxford, for a potion, which they + ‘would fetch from Oxford upon his prescription, meaning to have added also + somewhat of their own for her comfort.’ Bayly was a Fellow of New College; + in 1558 was one of the proctors; in 1561 was Queen’s Professor of Physic, + and was a highly reputable man.* He died in 1592. Thus Bayly, if he chose, + could have contradicted the printed libel of 1584, which avers that he + refused to prescribe for Amy, ‘misdoubting (as he after reported) lest if + they poisoned her under the name of his potion, he might after have been + hanged for a cover of their sin.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pettigrew, p. 17, citing Wood’s Ath. Ox. i. P. 586 (Bliss). +</pre> + <p> + Nothing was more natural and innocent than that Bayly should be asked to + prescribe, if Amy was ill. Nothing could be more audacious than to print + this tale about him, while he lived to contradict it. But it seems far + from improbable that Bayly did, for the reasons given, refuse to prescribe + for Amy, seeing (as the libel says) ‘the small need which the good lady + had of physic.’ + </p> + <p> + FOR THIS VERY REFUSAL BY BAYLY WOULD ACCOUNT FOR THE INFORMATION GIVEN BY + CECIL TO DE QUADRA ON THE DAY OF AMY’S DEATH. AND IT IS NOT EASY TO + EXPLAIN THE SOURCE OF CECIL’S INFORMATION IN ANY OTHER WAY. + </p> + <p> + We now reach the crucial point at which historical blunders and confusions + have been most maddeningly prevalent. Mr. Pettigrew, writing in 1859, had + no knowledge of Cecil’s corroboration of the story of the libel—Amy + in no need of physic, and the intention to poison her. Mr. Froude, + however, published in his History a somewhat erroneous version of de + Quadra’s letter about Cecil’s revelations, and Mr. Rye (1885) accused + Dudley on the basis of Mr. Froude’s version.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Froude, vi. pp. 417-421. +</pre> + <p> + Mr. Froude, then, presents a letter from de Quadra of September 11, 1560, + to the Duchess of Parma, governing the Netherlands from Brussels, ‘this + being the nearest point from which he could receive instructions. The + despatches were then forwarded to Philip.’ He dates de Quadra’s letter at + the top, ‘London, September 1l.’ The real date is, at the foot of the last + page, ‘Windsor, September 11.’ Omitting the first portion of the letter, + except the first sentence (which says that fresh and important events have + occurred since the writer’s last letter), Mr. Froude makes de Quadra + write: ‘On the third of THIS month’ (September 1560) ‘the Queen spoke to + me about her marriage with the Arch Duke. She said she had made up her + mind to marry and that the Arch Duke was to be the man. She has just now + told me drily that she does not intend to marry, and that it cannot be.’ + </p> + <p> + When, we ask, is ‘just now’? + </p> + <p> + Mr. Froude goes on: ‘After my conversation with the Queen, I met the + Secretary, Cecil, whom I knew to be in disgrace. Lord Robert, I was aware, + was endeavouring to deprive him of his place.’ Briefly, Cecil said to de + Quadra that he thought of retiring, that ruin was coming on the Queen + ‘through her intimacy with Lord Robert. The Lord Robert had made himself + master of the business of the State and of the person of the Queen, to the + extreme injury of the realm, with the intention of marrying her, and she + herself was shutting herself up in the palace to the peril of her health + and life.’ Cecil begged de Quadra to remonstrate with the Queen. After + speaking of her finances, Cecil went on, in Mr. Froude’s version: ‘Last of + all he said they were thinking of destroying Lord Robert’s wife. THEY HAD + GIVEN OUT THAT SHE WAS ILL; BUT SHE WAS NOT ILL AT ALL; SHE WAS VERY WELL, + AND WAS TAKING CARE NOT TO BE POISONED....’ [The capitals are mine.] + </p> + <p> + This is the very state of things reported in ‘Leicester’s Commonwealth.’ + Cecil may easily have known the circumstances, if, as stated in that + libel, Bayly had been consulted, had found Amy ‘in no need of physic,’ and + had refused to prescribe. Bayly would blab, and Cecil had spies everywhere + to carry the report: the extent and precision of his secret service are + well known. Cecil added some pious remarks. God would not permit the + crime. Mr. Froude goes on: ‘The day after this conversation, the Queen on + her return from hunting told me that Lord Robert’s wife was dead or nearly + so, and begged me to say nothing about it.’ After some political + speculations, the letter, in Froude, ends, ‘Since this was written the + death of Lord Robert’s wife has been given out publicly. The Queen said in + Italian “Que si ha rotto il collo” [“that she has broken her neck”]. It + appears that she fell down a staircase.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Froude, after disposing of the ideas that de Quadra lied, or that + Cecil spoke ‘in mere practice or diplomatic trickery,’ remarks: ‘Certain + it is that on September 8, at the time, or within a day of the time, when + Cecil told the Spanish ambassador that there was a plot to kill her, Anne + Dudley [Anne or Amy] was found dead at the foot of a staircase.’ This must + be true, for the Queen told de Quadra, PRIVATELY, ‘on the day after’ Cecil + unbosomed himself. The fatal news, we know, reached Windsor on September + 9, we do not know at what hour. The Queen told de Quadra probably on + September 9. If the news arrived late (and Dudley’s first letter on the + subject is ‘IN THE EVENING’ of September 9), Elizabeth may have told de + Quadra on the morning of September 10. + </p> + <p> + The inferences were drawn (by myself and others) that Elizabeth had told + de Quadra, on September 3, ‘the third of THIS month’ (as Mr. Froude, by a + slip of the pen, translates ‘a tres del passado’), that she would marry + the Arch Duke; that Cecil spoke to de Quadra on the same day, and that + ‘the day after this conversation’ (September 4) the Queen told de Quadra + that Amy ‘was dead or nearly so.’ The presumption would be that the Queen + spoke of Amy’s death FOUR DAYS BEFORE IT OCCURRED, and a very awkward + position, in that case, would be the Queen’s. Guilty foreknowledge would + be attributed to her. This is like the real situation if Dr. Ernst Bekker + is right.* Dr. Bekker, knowing from the portion of de Quadra’s letter + omitted by Mr. Froude, that he reached the Court at Windsor on September + 6, 1560, supposes that he had interviews with Elizabeth and Cecil on that + day, and that Elizabeth, prematurely, announced to him Amy’s death, next + day, on September 7. But Mr. Gairdner has proved that this scheme of dates + is highly improbable. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Elizabeth and Leicester, Giesener Studien auf dem Gebiet der +Geschichte, v p.48. Giesen, 1890. +</pre> + <p> + In the ‘English Historical Review,’ * Mr. Gairdner, examining the question, + used Mr. Froude’s transcripts in the British Museum, and made some slight + corrections in his translation, but omitted to note the crucial error of + the ‘third of THIS month’ for ‘the third of LAST month.’ This was in 1886. + Mr. Gairdner’s arguments as to dates were unconvincing, in this his first + article. But in 1892 the letter of de Quadra was retranslated from Mr. + Froude’s transcript, in the Spanish Calendar (i. pp. 174-176). The + translation was again erroneous, ‘THE QUEEN HAD PROMISED ME AN ANSWER + ABOUT THE SPANISH MARRIAGE BY THE THIRD INSTANT’ (September 3), ‘but now + she coolly tells me she cannot make up her mind, and will not marry.’ This + is all unlike Mr. Froude’s ‘On the third of this month the Queen spoke to + me about her marriage WITH THE ARCH DUKE. SHE SAID THAT SHE HAD MADE UP + HER MIND TO MARRY AND THAT THE ARCH DUKE WAS TO BE THE MAN.’ There is, in + fact, in Mr. Froude’s copy of the original Spanish, not a word about the + Arch Duke, nor is there in Baron Lettenhove’s text. The remark has crept + in from an earlier letter of de Quadra, of August 4, 1560.** But neither + is there anything about ‘promising an answer by the third instant,’ as in + the Calendar; and there is nothing at all about ‘the third instant,’ or + (as in Mr. Froude) ‘the third of this month.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *No. 2, April 1886, pp. 235-259. + + **Spanish Calendar, i. pp. 171-174. +</pre> + <p> + The Queen’s character has thus suffered, and the whole controversy has + been embroiled. In 1883, three years before the appearance of Mr. + Gairdner’s article of 1886, nine years before the Calendar appeared, the + correct version of de Quadra’s letter of September 11, 1560, had been + published by Baron Kervyn de Lettenhove in his ‘Relations Politiques des + Pays-Bas et de l’Angleterre sous le Regne de Philippe II’ (vol. ii. pp. + 529, 533). In 1897, Mr. Gairdner’s attention was called to the state of + affairs by the article, already cited, of Dr. Ernst Bekker. Mr. Gairdner + then translated the Belgian printed copy of de Quadra’s letter, with + comments.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *English Historical Review, January 1898, pp. 83-90. +</pre> + <p> + Matters now became clear. Mr. Froude’s transcript and translation had + omitted all the first long paragraph of the letter, which proved that de + Quadra went to Windsor, to the Court, on September 6. Next, the passage + about ‘the third of THIS month’ really runs ‘I showed her much + dissatisfaction about her marriage, in [on?] which on the third of LAST + month [August] she had told me she was already resolved and that she + assuredly meant to marry. Now she has coolly told me that she cannot make + up her mind, and that she does not intend to marry.’ (Mr. Gairdner’s + translation, 1898.) So the blot on the Queen’s scutcheon as to her + foreknowledge and too previous announcement of Amy’s death disappears. But + how did Mr. Gairdner, in 1886, using Mr. Froude’s transcript of the + original Spanish, fail to see that it contained no Arch Duke, and no + ‘third of the month’? Mr. Froude’s transcript of the original Spanish, but + not his translation thereof, was correct.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *As to Verney, Appleyard, and Foster (see pages commencing:—‘Here +it may be well to consider’), Cecil, in April 1566, names Foster +and Appleyard, but not Verney, among the ‘particular friends’ whom +Leicester, if he marries the Queen, ‘will study to enhanss to welth, to +Offices, and Lands.’ Bartlett, Cumnor Place, p. 73, London 1850. +</pre> + <p> + 2. AMY’S DEATH AND WHAT FOLLOWED + </p> + <p> + So far the case against Dudley, or servants of Dudley, has looked very + black. There are the scandals, too dark for ambassadors to write, but + mouthed aloud among the common people, about Dudley and the Queen. There + is de Quadra’s talk of a purpose to poison Amy, in November-January, + 1559-1560. There is the explicit statement of Cecil, as to the intended + poisoning (probably derived from Dr. Bayly), and as to Dudley’s + ‘possession of the Queen’s person,’ the result of his own observation. + There is the coincidence of Amy’s violent death with Cecil’s words to de + Quadra (September 8 or 9, 1560). + </p> + <p> + But here the case takes a new turn. Documents appear, letters from and to + Dudley at the time of the event, which are totally inconsistent with guilt + on his part. These documents (in the Pepys MSS. at Cambridge) are COPIES + of letters between Dudley and Thomas Blount, a gentleman of good family, + whom he addresses as ‘Cousin.’ Blount, long after, in May 1567, was + examined on the affair before the Privy Council, and Mr. Froude very + plausibly suggests that Blount produced the copies in the course of the + inquiry. But why COPIES? We can only say that the originals may also have + been shown, and the copies made for the convenience of the members of the + Council. It is really incredible that the letters were forged, after date, + to prove Dudley’s innocence. + </p> + <p> + In the usual blundering way, Mr. Pettigrew dates one letter of Dudley’s + ‘September 27.’ If that date were right, it would suggest that TWO + coroner’s inquests were held, one after Amy’s burial (on September 22), + but Mr. Gairdner says that the real date of the letter is September 12.* + So the date is given by Bartlett, in his ‘History of Cumnor Place,’ and by + Adlard (1870), following Bartlett, and Craik (1848). + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *English Historical Review, No. 2, p. 243, note. +</pre> + <p> + The first letter, from Dudley, at Windsor ‘this 9th day of September in + the evening,’ proves that Blount, early on September 9, the day after + Amy’s death, went from Leicester, at Windsor, towards Berkshire. He had + not long gone when Bowes (a retainer of Leicester, of Forster, or of Amy) + brought to Dudley the fatal news. ‘By him I do understand that my wife is + dead and, as he saith, by a fall from a pair of stairs. Little other + understanding can I have from him.’ Throughout the correspondence + Leicester does not utter one word of sorrow for Amy, as, had the letters + been written for exhibition, he would almost certainly have done. The fear + of his own danger and disgrace alone inspires him, and he takes every + measure to secure a full, free, and minute examination. ‘Have no respect + to any living person.’ A coroner’s jury is to be called, the body is to be + examined; Appleyard and others of Amy’s kin have already been sent for to + go to Cumnor. + </p> + <p> + From Cumnor, Blount replied on September 11. He only knew that ‘my lady is + dead, and, as it seemeth, with a fall, but yet how, or which way, I cannot + learn.’ Not even at Cumnor could Blount discover the manner of the + accident. On the night of the ninth he had lain at Abingdon, the landlord + of the inn could tell him no more than Dudley already knew. Amy’s servants + had been at ‘the fair’ at Abingdon: she herself was said to have insisted + on their going thither very early in the day; among them Bowes went, as he + told Blount, who met him on the road, as he rode to see Dudley. He said + that Amy ‘was very angry’ with any who stayed, and with Mrs. Oddingsell, + who refused to go. Pinto (probably Amy’s maid), ‘who doth love her + dearly,’ confirmed Bowes. She believed the death to be ‘a very accident.’ + She had heard Amy ‘divers times pray to God to deliver her from + desperation,’ but entirely disbelieved in suicide, which no one would + attempt, perhaps, by falling down two flights of stairs. + </p> + <p> + Before Blount arrived at Cumnor on September 10, the coroner’s jury had + been chosen, sensible men, but some of them hostile to Forster. By + September 12 (NOT 27) Dudley had retired from Court and was at Kew, but + had received Blount’s letter. He bade Blount tell the jury to inquire + faithfully and find an honest verdict. On the thirteenth Blount again + wrote from Cumnor, meaning to join Dudley next day: ‘I I have ALMOST + NOTHING that can make me so much [as?] to think that any man can be the + doer of it... the circumstances and the many things which I can learn doth + persuade me that only misfortune hath done it and nothing else.’ There is + another letter by Dudley from Windsor, without date. He has had a + reassuring letter from Smythe, foreman of the jury. He wishes them to + examine ‘as long as they lawfully may,’ and that a fresh jury should try + the case again. He wishes Sir Richard Blount to help. Appleyard and Arthur + Robsart have been present. He means to have no more dealings with the + jury; his only ‘dealings’ seem to have been his repeated requests that + they would be diligent and honest. ‘I am right glad they be all strangers + to me.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pettigrew, pp. 28-32. +</pre> + <p> + These letters are wholly inconsistent with guilt, in the faintest degree, + on the side of Dudley. But people were not satisfied. There is a letter to + Cecil, of September 17, from Lever, a minister at Coventry, saying that + the country was full of mutterings and dangerous suspicions, and that + there must be earnest searching and trying of the truth.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Burghley Papers, Haynes, 362. +</pre> + <p> + Suspicion was inevitable, but what could a jury do, more than, according + to Blount, the jury had done? Yet there is dense obscurity as to the + finding of the jury. We have seen that Appleyard, Amy’s half-brother, was + at Cumnor during the inquest. Yet, in 1567, he did not know, or pretended + not to know, what the verdict had been. ‘Leicester’s Commonwealth’ says + ‘she was found murdered (as all men said) by the crowner’s inquest,’ as if + the verdict was not published, but was a mere matter of rumour—‘as + all men said.’ Appleyard’s behaviour need not detain us long, as he was + such a shuffling knave that his statements, on either side, were just what + he found expedient in varying circumstances. Dudley, after Amy’s death, + obtained for him various profitable billets; in 1564 he was made keeper of + the Marshalsea, had a commission under the Great Seal to seize concealed + prizes at sea without legal proceedings, had the Portership of Berwick, + and the Sheriffship of Norfolk and Suffolk, while Leicester stood + guarantor of a debt of his for 400 pounds. These facts he admitted before + the Privy Council in 1567.* But Leicester might naturally do what he could + for his dead wife’s brother: we cannot argue that the jobs done for + Appleyard were hush-money, enormous as these jobs were. Yet in this light + Appleyard chose to consider them. He seems to have thought that Leicester + did not treat him well enough, and wanted to get rid of him in Ireland or + France, and he began, about 1566-67, to blab of what he could say an’ he + would. He ‘let fall words of anger, and said that for Dudley’s sake he had + covered the murder of his sister.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Rye, pp. 60-62. Hatfield MSS., Calendar, i. 345-352, May 1567. +</pre> + <p> + Mr. Froude has here misconceived the situation, as Mr. Gairdner shows. Mr. + Froude’s words are ‘being examined by Cecil, he admitted the investigation + at Cumnor had after all been inadequately conducted.‘* In fact, Appleyard + admitted that he had SAID this, and much more, in private talk among his + associates. Before the Council he subsequently withdrew what he admitted + having said in private talk. It does not signify what he said, or what he + withdrew, but Mr. Froude unluckily did not observe a document which proved + that Appleyard finally ate his words, and he concludes that ‘although + Dudley was innocent of a direct association with the crime, the unhappy + lady was sacrificed to his ambition. Dudley himself... used private means, + notwithstanding his affectation of sincerity, to prevent the search from + being pressed inconveniently far’—that is, ‘if Appleyard spoke the + truth.’ But Appleyard denied that he had spoken the truth, a fact + overlooked by Mr. Froude.** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Froude, vi. p. 430. + + **Ibid. vi. pp 430, 431. +</pre> + <p> + The truth stood thus: in 1566-67 there was, or had been, some idea that + Leicester might, after all, marry the Queen. Appleyard told Thomas Blount + that he was being offered large sums by great persons to reopen the Cumnor + affair. Blount was examined by the Council, and gave to Leicester a + written account of what he told them. One Huggon, Appleyard’s ‘brother,’ + had informed Leicester that courtiers were practising on Appleyard, ‘to + search the manner of his sister’s death.’ Leicester sent Blount to examine + Appleyard as to who the courtiers were. Appleyard was evasive, but at last + told Blount a long tale of mysterious attempts to seduce him into stirring + up the old story. He promised to meet Leicester, but did not: his brother, + Huggon, named Norfolk, Sussex, and others as the ‘practisers.’ Later, by + Leicester’s command, Blount brought Appleyard to him at Greenwich. What + speeches passed Blount did not know, but Leicester was very angry, and + bade Appleyard begone, ‘with great words of defiance.’ It is clear that, + with or without grounds, Appleyard was trying to blackmail Leicester. + </p> + <p> + Before the Council (May 1567) Appleyard confessed that he had said to + people that he had often moved the Earl to let him pursue the murderers of + Amy, ‘showing certain circumstances which led him to think surely that she + was murdered.’ He had said that Leicester, on the other hand, cited the + verdict of the jury, but he himself declared that the jury, in fact, ‘had + not as yet given up their verdict.’ After these confessions Appleyard lay + in the Fleet prison, destitute, and scarce able to buy a meal. On May 30, + 1567, he wrote an abject letter to the Council. He had been offered every + opportunity of accusing those whom he suspected, and he asked for ‘a copy + of the verdict presented by the jury, whereby I may see what the jury have + found,’ after which he would take counsel’s advice. He got a copy of the + verdict (?) (would that we had the copy!) and, naturally, as he was + starving, professed himself amply satisfied by ‘proofs testified under the + oaths of fifteen persons,’ that Amy’s death was accidental. ‘I have not + money left to find me two meals.’ In such a posture, Appleyard would, of + course, say anything to get himself out of prison. Two days later he + confessed that for three years he had been, in fact, trying to blackmail + Leicester on several counts, Amy’s murder and two political charges.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *See the full reports, Gairdner, English Historical Review, April +1886, 249-259, and Hatfield Calendar for the date May 1567. +</pre> + <p> + The man was a rogue, however we take him, and the sole tangible fact is + that a report of the evidence given at the inquest did exist, and that the + verdict may have been ‘Accidental Death.’ We do not know but that an open + verdict was given. Appleyard professes to have been convinced by the + evidence, not by the verdict. + </p> + <p> + When ‘Leicester’s Apology’ appeared (1584-85) Sir Philip Sidney, + Leicester’s nephew, wrote a reply. It was easy for him to answer the + libeller’s ‘she was found murdered (as all men suppose) by the crowner’s + inquest’—by producing the actual verdict of the jury. He did not; he + merely vapoured, and challenged the libeller to the duel.* Appleyard’s + statement among his intimates, that no verdict had yet been given, seems + to point to an open verdict. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Sidney’s reply is given in Adlard’s Amye Robsart and the Earl of +Leicester. London, 1870. +</pre> + <p> + The subject is alluded to by Elizabeth herself, who puts the final touch + of darkness on the mystery. Just as Archbishop Beaton, Mary’s ambassador + in Paris, vainly adjured her to pursue the inquiry into Darnley’s murder, + being urged by the talk in France, so Throgmorton, Elizabeth’s ambassador + to the French Court, was heartbroken by what he heard. Clearly no + satisfactory verdict ever reached him. He finally sent Jones, his + secretary, with a verbal message to Elizabeth. Jones boldly put the + question of the Cumnor affair. She said that ‘the matter had been tried in + the country, AND FOUND TO THE CONTRARY OF THAT WAS REPORTED.’ + </p> + <p> + What ‘was reported’? Clearly that Leicester and retainers of his had been + the murderers of Amy. For the Queen went on, ‘Lord Robert was in the + Court, AND NONE OF HIS AT THE ATTEMPT AT HIS WIFE’S HOUSE.’ So Verney was + not there. So Jones wrote to Throgmorton on November 30, 1560.* We shall + return to Throgmorton. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Hardwicke Papers, i. 165. +</pre> + <p> + If Jones correctly reported Elizabeth’s words, there had been an ‘attempt + at’ Cumnor Place, of which we hear nothing from any other source. How + black is the obscurity through which Blount, at Cumnor, two days after + Amy’s death, could discern—nothing! ‘A fall, yet how, or which way, + I cannot learn.’ By September 17, nine days after the death, Lever, at + Coventry, an easy day’s ride from Cumnor, knew nothing (as we saw) of a + verdict, or, at least, of a satisfactory verdict. It is true that the Earl + of Huntingdon, at Leicester, only heard of Amy’s death on September 17, + nine days after date.* Given ‘an attempt,’ Amy might perhaps break her + neck down a spiral staircase, when running away in terror. A cord + stretched across the top step would have done all that was needed. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Nineteenth Century, vol. ii. p. 431. Huntingdon to Leicester, +Longleat MSS. I repose on Canon Jackson’s date of the manuscript letter. +</pre> + <p> + We next find confusion worse confounded, by our previous deliverer from + error, Baron Kervyn Lettenhove! What happened at Court immediately after + Amy’s death? The Baron says: ‘A fragment of a despatch of de la Quadra, of + the same period, reports Dudley to have said that his marriage had been + celebrated in presence of his brother, and of two of the Queen’s ladies.’ + For this, according to the Baron, Mr. Froude cites a letter of the Bishop + of Aquila (de Quadra) of September 11.* Mr. Froude does nothing of the + sort! He does cite ‘an abstract of de Quadra’s letters, MS. Simancas,’ + without any date at all. ‘The design of Cecil and of those heretics to + convey the kingdom to the Earl of Huntingdon is most certain, for at last + Cecil has yielded to Lord Robert, who, he says, has married the Queen in + presence of his brother and two ladies of her bedchamber.’ So Mr. Gairdner + translates from Mr. Froude’s transcript, and he gives the date (November + 20) which Mr. Froude does not give. Major Hume translates, ‘who, THEY say, + was married.‘** O History! According to Baron Kervyn de Lettenhove, DUDLEY + says he has married the Queen; according to Mr. Gairdner, CECIL says so; + according to Major Hume, ‘they’ say so!*** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Relations Politiques des Pays-Bas, etc., xlii., note 4. + + **Span. Cal. i. p. 178. + + ***The Spanish of this perplexing sentence is given by Froude, vi. p. +433, note 1. ‘Cecil se ha rendido a Milord Roberto el qual dice que se +hay casado con la Reyna....’ +</pre> + <p> + The point is of crucial importance to Mrs. Gallup and the believers in the + cipher wherein Bacon maintains that he is the legal son of a wedding + between Dudley and the Queen. Was there such a marriage or even betrothal? + Froude cautiously says that this was averted ‘SEEMINGLY on Lord Robert’s + authority;’ the Baron says that Lord Robert makes the assertion; Mr. + Gairdner says that Cecil is the authority, and Major Hume declares that it + is a mere on-dit—‘who, they say.’ It is heart-breaking.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *For Mr. Gairdner, English Historical Review, No. 2, p. 246. +</pre> + <p> + To deepen the darkness and distress, the official, printed, Spanish + Documentos Ineditos do not give this abstract of November 20 at all. Major + Hume translates it in full, from Mr. Froude’s transcript. + </p> + <p> + Again, Mr. Froude inserts his undated quotation, really of November 20, + before he comes to tell of Amy Robsart’s funeral (September 22, 1560), and + the Baron, as we saw, implies that Mr. Froude dates it September 11, the + day on which the Queen publicly announced Amy’s death. + </p> + <p> + We now have an undated letter, endorsed by Cecil ‘Sept. 1560,’ wherein + Dudley, not at Court, and in tribulation, implores Cecil’s advice and aid. + ‘I am sorry so sudden a chance should breed me so great a change.’ He may + have written from Kew, where Elizabeth had given him a house, and where he + was on September 12 (not 27). On October 13 (Froude), or 14 (‘Documentos + Ineditos,’ 88, p. 310), or 15 (Spanish Calendar, i. p. 176)—for + dates are strange things—de Quadra wrote a letter of which there is + only an abstract at Simancas. This abstract we quote: ‘The contents of the + letter of Bishop Quadra to his Majesty written on the 15th’ (though headed + the 14th) ‘of October, and received on the 16th of November, 1560. It + relates the way in which the wife of Lord Robert came to her death, the + respect (reverencia) paid him immediately by the members of the Council + and others, and the dissimulation of the Queen. That he had heard that + they were engaged in an affair of great importance for the confirmation of + their heresies, and wished to make the Earl of Huntingdon king, should the + Queen die without children, and that Cecil had told him that the heritage + was his as a descendant of the House of York.... That Cecil had told him + that the Queen was resolved not to marry Lord Robert, as he had learned + from herself; it seemed that the Arch Duke might be proposed.’ In + mid-October, then, Elizabeth was apparently disinclined to wed the so + recently widowed Lord Robert, though, shortly after Amy’s death, the Privy + Council began to court Dudley as future king. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Froude writes—still before he comes to September 22—‘the + Bishop of Aquila reported that there were anxious meetings of the Council, + the courtiers paid a partial homage to Dudley.‘* This appears to be a + refraction from the abstract of the letter of October 13 or 14: ‘he + relates the manner in which the wife of Lord Robert came to her death, the + respect (reverencia) paid to him immediately by members of the Council and + others.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Froude, vi. p. 432. +</pre> + <p> + Next we come, in Mr. Froude, to Amy’s funeral (September 22), and to + Elizabeth’s resolve not to marry Leicester (October 13, 14, 15?), and to + Throgmorton’s interference in October-November. Throgmorton’s wails over + the Queen’s danger and dishonour were addressed to Cecil and the Marquis + of Northampton, from Poissy, on October 10, when he also condoled with + Dudley on the death of his wife! ‘Thanks him for his present of a nag!’ * + On the same date, October 10, Harry Killigrew, from London, wrote to + answer Throgmorton’s inquiries about Amy’s death. Certainly Throgmorton + had heard of Amy’s death before October 10: he might have heard by + September 16. What he heard comforted him not. By October 10 he should + have had news of a satisfactory verdict. But Killigrew merely said ‘she + brake her neck... only by the hand of God, to my knowledge.‘** On October + 17, Killigrew writes to Throgmorton ‘rumours... have been very rife, BUT + THE QUEEN SAYS SHE WILL MAKE THEM FALSE.... Leaves to his judgment what he + will not write. Has therefore sent by Jones and Summers’ (verbally) ‘what + account he wished him to make of my Lord R.’ (Dudley). + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *For. Cal. Eliz., 1560, pp. 347-349. + + **Ibid., 1560, p. 350. +</pre> + <p> + Then (October 28) Throgmorton tells Cecil plainly that, till he knows what + Cecil thinks, he sees no reason to advise the Queen in the matter ‘of + marrying Dudley.’ Begs him ‘TO SIGNIFY PLAINLY WHAT HAS BEEN DONE,’ and + implores him, ‘in the bowels of Christ ‘... ‘to hinder that matter.‘* He + writes ‘with tears and sighs,’ and—he declines to return Cecil’s + letters on the subject. ‘They be as safe in my hands as in your own, and + more safe in mine than in any messenger’s.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *For. Cal. Eliz., 1560, p. 376. +</pre> + <p> + On October 29, Throgmorton sets forth his troubles to Chamberlain. + ‘Chamberlain as a wise man can conceive how much it imports the Queen’s + honour and her realm to have the same’ (reports as to Amy’s death) + ‘ceased.’ ‘He is withal brought to be weary of his life.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *For. Cal. Eliz., 1560, p. 376. +</pre> + <p> + On November 7, Throgmorton writes to the Marquis of Northampton and to + Lord Pembroke about ‘the bruits lately risen from England... set so full + with great horror,’ and never disproved, despite Throgmorton’s prayers for + satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + Finally Throgmorton, as we saw, had the boldness to send his secretary, + Jones, direct to Elizabeth. All the comfort he got from her was her + statement that neither Dudley nor his retainers were at the attempt at + Cumnor Place. Francis I. died in France, people had something fresh to + talk about, and the Cumnor scandal dropped out of notice. Throgmorton, + however, persevered till, in January 1561, Cecil plainly told him to cease + to meddle. Throgmorton endorsed the letter ‘A warning not to be too busy + about the matters between the Queen and Lord Robert.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *For. Cal. Eliz., 1560, p. 498. +</pre> + <p> + It is not necessary, perhaps, to pursue further the attempts of Dudley to + marry the Queen. On January 22 he sent to de Quadra his brother-in-law, + Sir Henry, father of Sir Philip Sidney, offering to help to restore the + Church if Philip II. would back the marriage. Sidney professed to believe, + after full inquiry, that Amy died by accident. But he admitted ‘that no + one believed it;’ that ‘the preachers harped on it in a manner prejudicial + to the honour and service of the Queen, which had caused her to move for + the remedy of the disorders of this kingdom in religion,’ and so on.* De + Quadra and the preachers had no belief in Amy’s death by accident. Nobody + had, except Dudley’s relations. A year after Amy’s death, on September 13, + 1561, de Quadra wrote: ‘The Earl of Arundel and others are drawing up + copies of the testimony given in the inquiry respecting the death of Lord + Robert’s wife. Robert is now doing his best to repair matters’ (as to a + quarrel with Arundel, it seems), ‘as it appears that more is being + discovered in that matter than he wished.‘** People were not so easily + satisfied with the evidence as was the imprisoned and starving Appleyard. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Documentos Ineditos, 88, p. 314; Span. Cal., i. p. 179; Froude, vi. +p. 453. The translations vary: I give my own. The Spanish has misprints. + + **Span. Cal., i. p. 213; Documentos Ineditos, 88, p. 367. +</pre> + <p> + So the mystery stands. The letters of Blount and Dudley (September 9-12, + 1560) entirely clear Dudley’s character, and can only be got rid of on the + wild theory that they were composed, later, to that very end. But the + precise nature of the Cumnor jury’s verdict is unknown, and Elizabeth’s + words about ‘the attempt at her house’ prove that something concealed from + us did occur. It might be a mere half-sportive attempt by rustics to enter + a house known to be, at the moment, untenanted by the servants, and may + have caused to Amy an alarm, so that, rushing downstairs in terror, she + fell and broke her neck. The coincidence of her death with the words of + Cecil would thus be purely fortuitous, and coincidences as extraordinary + have occurred. Or a partisan of Dudley’s, finding poison difficult or + impossible, may have, in his zeal, murdered Amy, under the disguise of an + accident. The theory of suicide would be plausible, if it were conceivable + that a person would commit suicide by throwing herself downstairs. + </p> + <p> + We can have no certainty, but, at least, we show how Elizabeth came to be + erroneously accused of reporting Amy’s death before it occurred.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *For a wild Italian legend of Amy’s murder, written in 1577, see the +Hatfield Calendar, ii. 165-170. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. THE VOICES OF JEANNE D’ARC + </h2> + <p> + Some of our old English historians write of Jeanne d’Arc, the Pucelle, as + ‘the Puzel.’ The author of the ‘First Part of Henry VI.,’ whether he was + Shakespeare or not, has a pun on the word: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Pucelle or puzzel, dolphin or dogfish,’ +</pre> + <p> + the word ‘Puzzel’ carrying an unsavoury sense. (Act I. Scene 4.) A puzzle, + in the usual meaning of the word, the Maid was to the dramatist. I shall + not enter into the dispute as to whether Shakespeare was the author, or + part author, of this perplexed drama. But certainly the role of the + Pucelle is either by two different hands, or the one author was ‘in two + minds’ about the heroine. Now she appears as la ribaulde of Glasdale’s + taunt, which made her weep, as the ‘bold strumpet’ of Talbot’s insult in + the play. The author adopts or even exaggerates the falsehoods of + Anglo-Burgundian legend. The personal purity of Jeanne was not denied by + her judges. On the other hand the dramatist makes his ‘bold strumpet’ a + paladin of courage and a perfect patriot, reconciling Burgundy to the + national cause by a moving speech on ‘the great pity that was in France.’ + How could a ribaulde, a leaguer-lass, a witch, a sacrificer of blood to + devils, display the valour, the absolute self-sacrifice, the eloquent and + tender love of native land attributed to the Pucelle of the play? Are + there two authors, and is Shakespeare one of them, with his understanding + of the human heart? Or is there one puzzled author producing an impossible + and contradictory character? + </p> + <p> + The dramatist has a curious knowledge of minute points in Jeanne’s career: + he knows and mocks at the sword with five crosses which she found, + apparently by clairvoyance, at Fierbois, but his history is distorted and + dislocated almost beyond recognition. Jeanne proclaims herself to the + Dauphin as the daughter of a shepherd, and as a pure maid. Later she + disclaims both her father and her maidenhood. She avers that she was first + inspired by a vision of the Virgin (which she never did in fact), and she + is haunted by ‘fiends,’ who represent her St. Michael, St. Catherine, and + St. Margaret. After the relief of Orleans the Dauphin exclaims: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘No longer on Saint Denis will we cry, + But Joan la Pucelle shall be France’s saint,’ +</pre> + <p> + a prophecy which may yet be accomplished. Already accomplished is + d’Alencon’s promise: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘We’ll set thy statue in some holy place.’ +</pre> + <p> + To the Duke of Burgundy, the Pucelle of the play speaks as the Maid might + have spoken: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Look on thy country, look on fertile France, + And see the cities and the towns defaced + By wasting ruin of the cruel foe! + As looks the mother on her lowly babe, + When death doth close his tender dying eyes, + See, see, the pining malady of France; + Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds, + Which thou thyself hast given her woful breast! + O turn thy edged sword another way; + Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help! + One drop of blood drawn from thy country’s bosom + Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore; + Return thee, therefore, with a flood of tears, + And wash away thy country’s stained spots.’ +</pre> + <p> + Patriotism could find no better words, and how can the dramatist represent + the speaker as a ‘strumpet’ inspired by ‘fiends’? To her fiends when they + desert her, the Pucelle of the play cries: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Cannot my body, nor blood sacrifice, + Entreat you to your wonted furtherance? + Then take my soul; my body, soul, and all, + Before that England give the French the foil.’ +</pre> + <p> + She is willing to give body and soul for France, and this, in the eyes of + the dramatist, appears to be her crime. For a French girl to bear a French + heart is to stamp her as the tool of devils. It is an odd theology, and + not in the spirit of Shakespeare. Indeed the Pucelle, while disowning her + father and her maidenhood, again speaks to the English as Jeanne might + have spoken: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘I never had to do with wicked spirits: + But you, that are polluted with your lusts, + Stained with the guiltless blood of innocents, + Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices, + Because you want the grace that others have, + You judge it straight a thing impossible + To compass wonders but by help of devils. + No, misconceiv’d! Joan of Arc hath been + A virgin from her tender infancy, + Chaste and immaculate in very thought; + Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effus’d, + Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.’ +</pre> + <p> + The vengeance was not long delayed. ‘The French and my countrymen,’ writes + Patrick Abercromby, ‘drove the English from province to province, and from + town to town’ of France, while on England fell the Wars of the Roses. But + how can the dramatist make the dealer with fiends speak as the Maid, in + effect, did speak at her trial? He adds the most ribald of insults; the + Pucelle exclaiming: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘It was Alencon that enjoyed my love!’ +</pre> + <p> + The author of the play thus speaks with two voices: in one Jeanne acts and + talks as she might have done (had she been given to oratory); in the other + she is the termagant of Anglo-Burgundian legend or myth. + </p> + <p> + Much of this perplexity still haunts the histories of the Maid. Her + courage, purity, patriotism, and clear-sighted military and political + common-sense; the marvellous wisdom of her replies to her judges—as + of her own St. Catherine before the fifty philosophers of her legend—are + universally acknowledged. This girl of seventeen, in fact, alone of the + French folk, understood the political and military situation. To restore + the confidence of France it was necessary that the Dauphin should + penetrate the English lines to Rheims, and there be crowned. She broke the + lines, she led him to Rheims, and crowned him. England was besieging his + last hold in the north and centre, Orleans, on a military policy of pure + ‘bluff.’ The city was at no time really invested. The besieging force, as + English official documents prove, was utterly inadequate to its task, + except so far as prestige and confidence gave power. Jeanne simply + destroyed and reversed the prestige, and, after a brilliant campaign on + the Loire, opened the way to Rheims. The next step was to take Paris, and + Paris she certainly would have taken, but the long delays of politicians + enabled Beaufort to secure peace with Scotland, under James I., and to + throw into Paris the English troops collected for a crusade against the + Hussites.* The Maid, unsupported, if not actually betrayed, failed and was + wounded before Paris, and prestige returned for a while to the English + party. She won minor victories, was taken at Compiegne (May 1430), and a + year later crowned her career by martyrdom. But she had turned the tide, + and within the six years of her prophecy Paris returned to the national + cause. The English lost, in losing Paris, ‘a greater gage than Orleans.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *The Scottish immobility was secured in May-June 1429, the months of +the Maid’s Loire campaign. Exchequer Rolls, iv. ciii. 466. Bain, +Calendar, iv. 212, Foedera, x. 428,1704-1717. +</pre> + <p> + So much is universally acknowledged, but how did the Maid accomplish her + marvels? Brave as she certainly was, wise as she certainly was, beautiful + as she is said to have been, she would neither have risked her + unparalleled adventure, nor been followed, but for her strange visions and + ‘voices.’ She left her village and began her mission, as she said, in + contradiction to the strong common-sense of her normal character. She + resisted for long the advice that came to her in the apparent shape of + audible external voices and external visions of saint and angel. By a + statement of actual facts which she could not possibly have learned in any + normal way, she overcame, it is said, the resistance of the Governor of + Vaucouleurs, and obtained an escort to convey her to the King at Chinon.* + She conquered the doubts of the Dauphin by a similar display of + supernormal knowledge. She satisfied, at Poictiers, the divines of the + national party after a prolonged examination, of which the record, ‘The + Book of Poictiers,’ has disappeared. In these ways she inspired the + confidence which, in the real feebleness of the invading army, was all + that was needed to ensure the relief of Orleans, while, as Dunois + attested, she shook the confidence which was the strength of England. + About these facts the historical evidence is as good as for any other + events of the war. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Refer to paragraph commencing “The ‘Journal du Siege d’Orleans’” + infra. +</pre> + <p> + The essence, then, of the marvels wrought by Jeanne d’Arc lay in what she + called her ‘Voices,’ the mysterious monitions, to her audible, and + associated with visions of the heavenly speakers. Brave, pure, wise, and + probably beautiful as she was, the King of France would not have trusted a + peasant lass, and men disheartened by frequent disaster would not have + followed her, but for her voices. + </p> + <p> + The science or theology of the age had three possible ways of explaining + these experiences: + </p> + <p> + 1. The Maid actually was inspired by Michael, Margaret, and Catherine. + From them she learned secrets of the future, of words unspoken save in the + King’s private prayer, and of events distant in space, like the defeat of + the French and Scots at Rouvray, which she announced, on the day of the + occurrence, to Baudricourt, hundreds of leagues away, at Vaucouleurs. + </p> + <p> + 2. The monitions came from ‘fiends.’ This was the view of the prosecutors + in general at her trial, and of the author of ‘Henry VI., Part I.’ + </p> + <p> + 3. One of her judges, Beaupere, was a man of some courage and consistency. + He maintained, at the trial of Rouen, and at the trial of Rehabilitation + (1452-1456), that the voices were mere illusions of a girl who fasted + much. In her fasts she would construe natural sounds, as of church bells, + or perhaps of the wind among woods, into audible words, as Red Indian + seers do to this day. + </p> + <p> + This third solution must and does neglect, or explain by chance + occurrence, or deny, the coincidences between facts not normally knowable, + and the monitions of the Voices, accepted as genuine, though inexplicable, + by M. Quicherat, the great palaeographer and historian of Jeanne.* He by + no means held a brief for the Church; Father Ayroles continually quarrels + with Quicherat, as a Freethinker. He certainly was a free thinker in the + sense that he was the first historian who did not accept the theory of + direct inspiration by saints (still less by fiends), and yet took liberty + to admit that the Maid possessed knowledge not normally acquired. Other + ‘freethinking’ sympathisers with the heroine have shuffled, have skated + adroitly past and round the facts, as Father Ayroles amusingly + demonstrates in his many passages of arms with Michelet, Simeon Luce, + Henri Martin, Fabre, and his other opponents. M. Quicherat merely says + that, if we are not to accept the marvels as genuine, we must abandon the + whole of the rest of the evidence as to Jeanne d’Arc, and there he leaves + the matter. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Quicherat’s five volumes of documents, the Proces, is now +accessible, as far as records of the two trials go, in the English +version edited by Mr. Douglas Murray. +</pre> + <p> + Can we not carry the question further? Has the psychological research of + the last half-century added nothing to our means of dealing with the + problem? Negatively, at least, something is gained. Science no longer + avers, with M. Lelut in his book on the Daemon of Socrates, that every one + who has experience of hallucinations, of impressions of the senses not + produced by objective causes, is mad. It is admitted that sane and healthy + persons may have hallucinations of lights, of voices, of visual + appearances. The researches of Mr. Galton, of M. Richet, of Brierre du + Boismont, of Mr. Gurney, and an army of other psychologists, have secured + this position. + </p> + <p> + Maniacs have hallucinations, especially of voices, but all who have + hallucinations are not maniacs. Jeanne d’Arc, so subject to ‘airy + tongues,’ was beyond all doubt a girl of extraordinary physical strength + and endurance, of the highest natural lucidity and common-sense, and of + health which neither wounds, nor fatigue, nor cruel treatment, could + seriously impair. Wounded again and again, she continued to animate the + troops by her voice, and was in arms undaunted next day. Her leap of sixty + feet from the battlements of Beaurevoir stunned but did not long + incapacitate her. Hunger, bonds, and the protracted weariness of months of + cross-examination produced an illness but left her intellect as keen, her + courage as unabated, her humour as vivacious, her memory as minutely + accurate as ever. There never was a more sane and healthy human being. We + never hear that, in the moments of her strange experiences, she was + ‘entranced,’ or even dissociated from the actual occurrences of the hour. + She heard her voices, though not distinctly, in the uproar of the brawling + court which tried her at Rouen; she saw her visions in the imminent deadly + breach, when she rallied her men to victory. In this alertness she is a + contrast to a modern seeress, subject, like her, to monitions of an + hallucinatory kind, but subject during intervals of somnambulisme. To her + case, which has been carefully, humorously, and sceptically studied, we + shall return. + </p> + <p> + Meantime let us take voices and visions on the lowest, most prevalent, and + least startling level. A large proportion of people, including the writer, + are familiar with the momentary visions beheld with shut eyes between + waking and sleeping (illusions hypnagogiques). The waking self is alert + enough to contemplate these processions of figures and faces, these + landscapes too, which (in my own case) it is incapable of purposefully + calling up. + </p> + <p> + Thus, in a form of experience which is almost as common as ordinary + dreaming, we see that the semi-somnolent self possesses a faculty not + always given to the waking self. Compared with my own waking self, for + instance, my half-asleep self is almost a personality of genius. He can + create visions that the waking self can remember, but cannot originate, + and cannot trace to any memory of waking impressions. These apparently + trivial things thus point to the existence of almost wholly submerged + potentialities in a mind so everyday, commonplace, and, so to speak, + superficial as mine. This fact suggests that people who own such minds, + the vast majority of mankind, ought not to make themselves the measure of + the potentialities of minds of a rarer class, say that of Jeanne d’Arc. + The secret of natures like hers cannot be discovered, so long as + scientific men incapable even of ordinary ‘visualising’ (as Mr. Galton + found) make themselves the canon or measure of human nature. + </p> + <p> + Let us, for the sake of argument, suppose that some sane persons are + capable of hallucinatory impressions akin to but less transient than + illusions hypnagogiques, when, as far as they or others can perceive, they + are wide awake. Of such sane persons Goethe and Herschel were examples. In + this way we can most easily envisage, or make thinkable by ourselves, the + nature of the experiences of Jeanne d’Arc and other seers. + </p> + <p> + In the other state of semi-somnolence, while still alert enough to watch + and reason on the phenomena, we occasionally, though less commonly, hear + what may be called ‘inner voices.’ That is to say, we do not suppose that + any one from without is speaking to us, but we hear, as it were, a voice + within us making some remark, usually disjointed enough, and not suggested + by any traceable train of thought of which we are conscious at the time. + This experience partly enables us to understand the cases of sane persons + who, when to all appearance wide awake, occasionally hear voices which + appear to be objective and caused by actual vibrations of the atmosphere. + I am acquainted with at least four persons, all of them healthy, and + normal enough, who have had such experiences. In all four cases, the + apparent voice (though the listeners have no superstitious belief on the + subject) has communicated intelligence which proved to be correct. But in + only one instance, I think, was the information thus communicated beyond + the reach of conjecture, based perhaps on some observation unconsciously + made or so little attended to when made that it could not be recalled by + the ordinary memory. + </p> + <p> + We are to suppose, then, that in such cases the person concerned being to + all appearance fully awake, his or her mind has presented a thought, not + as a thought, but in the shape of words that seemed to be externally + audible. One hearer, in fact, at the moment wondered that the apparent + speaker indicated by the voice and words should be shouting so loud in an + hotel. The apparent speaker was actually not in the hotel, but at a + considerable distance, well out of earshot, and, though in a nervous + crisis, was not shouting at all. We know that, between sleeping and + waking, our minds can present to us a thought in the apparent form of + articulate words, internally audible. The hearers, when fully awake, of + words that seem to be externally audible, probably do but carry the + semi-vigilant experience to a higher degree, as do the beholders of visual + hallucinations, when wide awake. In this way, at least, we can most nearly + attain to understanding their experiences. To a relatively small + proportion of people, in wakeful existence, experiences occur with + distinctness, which to a large proportion of persons occur but + indistinctly, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘On the margin grey + ‘Twixt the soul’s night and day.’ +</pre> + <p> + Let us put it, then, that Jeanne d’Arc’s was an advanced case of the + mental and bodily constitution exemplified by the relatively small + proportion of people, the sane seers of visual hallucinations and hearers + of unreal voices. Her thoughts—let us say the thoughts of the + deepest region of her being—presented themselves in visual forms, + taking the shapes of favourite saints—familiar to her in works of + sacred art—attended by an hallucinatory brightness of light (‘a + photism’), and apparently uttering words of advice which was in conflict + with Jeanne’s great natural shrewdness and strong sense of duty to her + parents. ‘She MUST go into France,’ and for two or three years she pleaded + her ignorance and incompetence. She declined to go. She COULD resist her + voices. In prison at Beaurevoir, they forbade her to leap from the tower. + But her natural impatience and hopefulness prevailed, and she leaped. ‘I + would rather trust my soul to God than my body to the English.’ This she + confessed to as sinful, though not, she hoped, of the nature of deadly + sin. Her inmost and her superficial nature were in conflict. + </p> + <p> + It is now desirable to give, as briefly as possible, Jeanne’s own account + of the nature of her experiences, as recorded in the book of her trial at + Rouen, with other secondhand accounts, offered on oath, at her trial of + Rehabilitation, by witnesses to whom she had spoken on the subject. She + was always reticent on the theme. + </p> + <p> + The period when Jeanne supposed herself to see her first visions was + physiologically critical. She was either between thirteen and fourteen, or + between twelve and thirteen. M. Simeon Luce, in his ‘Jeanne d’Arc a + Domremy,’ held that she was of the more advanced age, and his date (1425) + fitted in with some public events, which, in his opinion, were probably + the occasions of the experiences. Pere Ayroles prefers the earlier period + (1424) when the aforesaid public events had not yet occurred. After + examining the evidence on both sides, I am disposed to think, or rather I + am certain, that Pere Ayroles is in the right. In either case Jeanne was + at a critical age, when, as I understand, female children are occasionally + subject to illusions. Speaking then as a non-scientific student, I submit + that on the side of ordinary causes for the visions and voices we have: + </p> + <p> + 1. The period in Jeanne’s life when they began. + </p> + <p> + 2. Her habits of fasting and prayer. + </p> + <p> + 3. Her intense patriotic enthusiasm, which may, for all that we know, have + been her mood before the voices announced to her the mission. + </p> + <p> + Let us then examine the evidence as to the origin and nature of the + alleged phenomena. + </p> + <p> + I shall begin with the letter of the Senechal de Berry, Perceval de + Boulainvilliers, to the Duke of Milan.* The date is June 21st, 1429, six + weeks after the relief of Orleans. After a few such tales as that the + cocks crowed when Jeanne was born, and that her flock was lucky, he dates + her first vision peractis aetatis suae duodecim annis, ‘after she was + twelve.’ Briefly, the tale is that, in a rustic race for flowers, one of + the other children cried, ‘Joanna, video te volantem juxta terrain,’ + ‘Joan, I see you flying near the ground.’ This is the one solitary hint of + ‘levitation’ (so common in hagiology and witchcraft) which occurs in the + career of the Maid. This kind of story is so persistent that I knew it + must have been told in connection with the Irvingite movement in Scotland. + And it was! There is, perhaps, just one trace that flying was believed to + be an accomplishment of Jeanne’s. When Frere Richard came to her at + Troyes, he made, she says, the sign of the cross.** She answered, + ‘Approchez hardiment, je ne m’envouleray pas.’ Now the contemporary St. + Colette was not infrequently ‘levitated’! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Proces, v. 115. + + **Proces, i. 100. +</pre> + <p> + To return to the Voices. After her race, Jeanne was quasi rapta et a + sensibus alienata (‘dissociated’), then juxta eam affuit juvenis quidam, a + youth stood by her who bade her ‘go home, for her mother needed her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Thinking that it was her brother or a neighbour’ (apparently she only + heard the voice, and did not see the speaker), she hurried home, and found + that she had not been sent for. Next, as she was on the point of returning + to her friends, ‘a very bright cloud appeared to her, and out of the cloud + came a voice,’ bidding her take up her mission. She was merely puzzled, + but the experiences were often renewed. This letter, being contemporary, + represents current belief, based either on Jeanne’s own statements before + the clergy at Poictiers (April 1429) or on the gossip of Domremy. It + should be observed that till Jeanne told her own tale at Rouen (1431) we + hear not one word about saints or angels. She merely spoke of ‘my voices,’ + ‘my counsel,’ ‘my Master.’ If she was more explicit at Poictiers, her + confessions did not find their way into surviving letters and journals, + not even into the journal of the hostile Bourgeois de Paris. We may glance + at examples. + </p> + <p> + The ‘Journal du Siege d’Orleans’ is in parts a late document, in parts + ‘evidently copied from a journal kept in presence of the actual events.‘* + The ‘Journal,’ in February 1429, vaguely says that, ‘about this time’ our + Lord used to appear to a maid, as she was guarding her flock, or ‘cousant + et filant.’ A St. Victor MS. has courant et saillant (running and + jumping), which curiously agrees with Boulainvilliers. The ‘Journal,’ + after telling of the Battle of the Herrings (February 12th, 1429), in + which the Scots and French were cut up in an attack on an English convoy, + declares that Jeanne ‘knew of it by grace divine,’ and that her vue a + distance induced Baudricourt to send her to the Dauphin.** This was + attested by Baudricourt’s letters.*** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Quicherat. In Proces, iv. 95. + + **Proces, iv. 125. + + ***Proces, iv. 125. +</pre> + <p> + All this may have been written as late as 1468, but a vague reference to + an apparition of our Lord rather suggests contemporary hearsay, before + Jeanne came to Orleans. Jeanne never claimed any such visions of our Lord. + The story of the clairvoyance as to the Battle of the Herrings is also + given in the ‘Chronique de la Pucelle.‘* M. Quicherat thinks that the + passage is amplified from the ‘Journal du Siege.’ On the other hand, M. + Vallet (de Viriville) attributes with assurance the ‘Chronique de la + Pucelle’ to Cousinot de Montreuil, who was the Dauphin’s secretary at + Poictiers, when the Maid was examined there in April 1429.** If Cousinot + was the author, he certainly did not write his chronicle till long after + date. However, he avers that the story of clairvoyance was current in the + spring of 1429. The dates exactly harmonise; that is to say, between the + day of the battle, February 12th, and the setting forth of the Maid from + Vaucouleurs, there is just time for the bad news from Rouvray to arrive, + confirming her statement, and for a day or two of preparation. But + perhaps, after the arrival of the bad news, Baudricourt may have sent + Jeanne to the King in a kind of despair. Things could not be worse. If she + could do no good, she could do no harm. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Proces, iv. 206. + + **Histoire de Charles VII., ii. 62. +</pre> + <p> + The documents, whether contemporary or written later by contemporaries, + contain none of the references to visions of St. Margaret, St. Catherine, + and St. Michael, which we find in Jeanne’s own replies at Rouen. For this + omission it is not easy to account, even if we suppose that, except when + giving evidence on oath, the Maid was extremely reticent. That she was + reticent, we shall prove from evidence of d’Aulon and Dunois. Turning to + the Maid’s own evidence in court (1431) we must remember that she was most + averse to speaking at all, that she often asked leave to wait for advice + and permission from her voices before replying, that on one point she + constantly declared that, if compelled to speak, she would not speak the + truth. This point was the King’s secret. There is absolutely contemporary + evidence, from Alain Chartier, that, before she was accepted, she told + Charles SOMETHING which filled him with surprise, joy, and belief.* The + secret was connected with Charles’s doubts of his own legitimacy, and + Jeanne at her trial was driven to obscure the truth in a mist of allegory, + as, indeed, she confessed. Jeanne’s extreme reluctance to adopt even this + loyal and laudable evasion is the measure of her truthfulness in general. + Still, she did say some words which, as they stand, it is difficult to + believe, to explain, or to account for. From any other prisoner, so + unjustly menaced with a doom so dreadful, from Mary Stuart, for example, + at Fotheringay, we do not expect the whole truth and nothing but the + truth. The Maid is a witness of another kind, and where we cannot + understand her, we must say, like herself, passez outre! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Proces, v. 131. Letter of July 1429. See supra, ‘The False +Pucelle.’ +</pre> + <p> + When she was ‘about thirteen,’ this is her own account, she had a voice + from God, to aid her in governing herself. ‘And the first time she was in + great fear. And it came, that voice, about noonday, in summer, in her + father’s garden’ (where other girls of old France hear the birds sing, + ‘Marry, maidens, marry!’) ‘and Jeanne had NOT fasted on the day before.* + She heard the voice from the right side, towards the church, and seldom + heard it without seeing a bright light. The light was not in front, but at + the side whence the voice came. If she were in a wood’ (as distinguished + from the noise of the crowded and tumultuous court) ‘she could well hear + the voices coming to her.’ Asked what sign for her soul’s health the voice + gave, she said it bade her behave well, and go to church, and used to tell + her to go into France on her mission. (I do not know why the advice about + going to church is generally said to have been given FIRST.) Jeanne kept + objecting that she was a poor girl who could not ride, or lead in war. She + resisted the voice with all her energy. She asserted that she knew the + Dauphin, on their first meeting, by aid of her voices.** She declared that + the Dauphin himself ‘multas habuit revelationes et apparitiones pulchras.’ + In its literal sense, there is no evidence for this, but rather the + reverse. She may mean ‘revelations’ through herself, or may refer to some + circumstance unknown. ‘Those of my party saw and knew that voice,’ she + said, but later would only accept them as witnesses if they were allowed + to come and see her.*** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *The reading is NEC not ET, as in Quicherat, Proces, i. 52, compare +i. 216. + + **Proces, i. 56. + + ***Proces, i. 57. +</pre> + <p> + This is the most puzzling point in Jeanne’s confession. She had no motive + for telling an untruth, unless she hoped that these remarks would + establish the objectivity of her visions. Of course, one of her strange + experiences may have occurred in the presence of Charles and his court, + and she may have believed that they shared in it. The point is one which + French writers appear to avoid as a rule. + </p> + <p> + She said that she heard the voice daily in prison, ‘and stood in sore need + of it.’ The voice bade her remain at St. Denis (after the repulse from + Paris in September 1429), but she was not allowed to remain. + </p> + <p> + On the next day (the third of the trial) she told Beaupere that she was + fasting since yesterday afternoon. Beaupere, as we saw, conceived that her + experiences were mere subjective hallucinations, caused by fasting, by the + sound of church-bells, and so on. As to the noise of bells, Coleridge + writes that their music fell on his ears, ‘MOST LIKE ARTICULATE SOUNDS OF + THINGS TO COME.’ Beaupere’s sober common-sense did not avail to help the + Maid, but at the Rehabilitation (1456) he still maintained his old + opinion. ‘Yesterday she had heard the voices in the morning, at vespers, + and at the late ringing for Ave Maria, and she heard them much more + frequently than she mentioned.’ ‘Yesterday she had been asleep when the + voice aroused her. She sat up and clasped her hands, and the voice bade + her answer boldly. Other words she half heard before she was quite awake, + but failed to understand.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Proces, i. 62. +</pre> + <p> + She denied that the voices ever contradicted themselves. On this occasion, + as not having received leave from her voices, she refused to say anything + as to her visions. + </p> + <p> + At the next meeting she admitted having heard the voices in court, but in + court she could not distinguish the words, owing to the tumult. She had + now, however, leave to speak more fully. The voices were those of St. + Catherine and St. Margaret. Later she was asked if St. Margaret ‘spoke + English.’ Apparently the querist thought that the English Margaret, wife + of Malcolm of Scotland, was intended. They were crowned with fair crowns, + as she had said at Poictiers two years before. She now appealed to the + record of her examination there, but it was not in court, nor was it used + in the trial of Rehabilitation. It has never been recovered. A witness who + had examined her at Poictiers threw no light (twenty years later) on the + saints and voices. Seven years ago (that is, when she was twelve) she + first saw the saints. On the attire of the saints she had not leave to + speak. They were preceded by St. Michael ‘with the angels of heaven.’ ‘I + saw them as clearly as I see you, and I used to weep when they departed, + and would fain that they should have taken me with them.’ + </p> + <p> + As to the famous sword at Fierbois, she averred that she had been in the + church there, on her way to Chinon, that the voices later bade her use a + sword which was hidden under earth—she thinks behind, but possibly + in front of the altar—at Fierbois. A man unknown to her was sent + from Tours to fetch the sword, which after search was found, and she wore + it. + </p> + <p> + Asked whether she had prophesied her wound by an arrow at Orleans, and her + recovery, she said ‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + This prediction is singular in that it was recorded before the event. The + record was copied into the registre of Brabant, from a letter written on + April 22nd, 1429, by a Flemish diplomatist, De Rotselaer, then at Lyons.* + De Rotselaer had the prophecy from an officer of the court of the Dauphin. + The prediction was thus noted on April 22nd; the event, the arrow-wound in + the shoulder, occurred on May 7th. On the fifth day of the trial Jeanne + announced that, before seven years were gone, the English ‘shall lose a + dearer gage than Orleans; this I know by revelation, and am wroth that it + is to be so long deferred.’ Mr. Myers observes that ‘the prediction of a + great victory over the English within seven years was not fulfilled in any + exact way.’ The words of the Maid are ‘Angli demittent majus vadium quam + fecerunt coram Aurelianis,’ and, as prophecies go, their loss of Paris + (1436) corresponds very well to the Maid’s announcement. She went on, + indeed, to say that the English ‘will have greater loss than ever they + had, through a great French victory,’ but this reads like a gloss on her + original prediction. ‘She knew it as well as that we were there.‘** ‘You + shall not have the exact year, but well I wish it might be before the St. + John;’ however, she had already expressed her sorrow that this was NOT to + be. Asked, on March 1st, whether her liberation was promised, she said, + ‘Ask me in three months, and I will tell you.’ In three months exactly, + her stainless soul was free. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Proces, iv. 425. + + **Proces, i. 84. +</pre> + <p> + On the appearance, garb, and so on of her saints, she declined to answer + questions. + </p> + <p> + She had once disobeyed her voices, when they forbade her to leap from the + tower of Beaurevoir. She leaped, but they forgave her, and told her that + Compiegne (where she was captured on May 23rd, 1430) would be relieved + ‘before Martinmas.’ It was relieved on October 26th, after a siege of five + months. On March 10th an effort was made to prove that her voices had lied + to her, and that she had lied about her voices. The enemy maintained that + on May 23rd, 1430, she announced a promised victory to the people of + Compiegne, vowing that St. Margaret and St. Catherine had revealed it to + her. Two hostile priests of Compiegne were at Rouen, and may have carried + this tale, which is reported by two Burgundian chroniclers, but NOT by + Monstrelet, who was with the besieging army.* In court she said n’eust + autre commandement de yssir: she had no command from her voices to make + her fatal sally. She was not asked whether she had pretended to have + received such an order. She told the touching story of how, at Melun, in + April 1430, the voices had warned her that she would be taken prisoner + before midsummer; how she had prayed for death, or for tidings as to the + day and hour. But no tidings were given to her, and her old belief, often + expressed, that she ‘should last but one year or little more,’ was + confirmed. The Duc d’Alencon had heard her say this several times; for the + prophecy at Melun we have only her own word. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *I have examined the evidence in Macmillan’s Magazine for May 1894, +and, to myself, it seems inadequate. +</pre> + <p> + She was now led into the allegory intended to veil the King’s secret, the + allegory about the Angel (herself) and the Crown (the coronation at + Rheims). This allegory was fatal, but does not bear on her real belief + about her experiences. She averred, returning to genuine confessions, that + her voices often came spontaneously; if they did not, she summoned them by + a simple prayer to God. She had seen the angelic figures moving, invisible + save to her, among men. The voices HAD promised her the release of Charles + d’Orleans, but time had failed her. This was as near a confession of + failure as she ever made, till the day of her burning, if she really made + one then.* But here, as always, she had predicted that she would do this + or that if she were sans empeschement. She had no revelation bidding her + attack Paris when she did, and after the day at Melun she submitted to the + advice of the other captains. As to her release, she was only bidden ‘to + bear all cheerfully; be not vexed with thy martyrdom, thence shalt thou + come at last into the kingdom of Paradise.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *As to her ‘abjuration’ and alleged doubts, see L’Abjuration du +Cimetiere Saint-Ouen, by Abbe Ph. H. Dunard; Poussielgue, Paris, 1901. +</pre> + <p> + To us, this is explicit enough, but the poor child explained to her judges + that by martire she understood the pains of prison, and she referred it to + her Lord, whether there were more to bear. In this passage the original + French exists, as well as the Latin translation. The French is better. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ne te chaille de ton martire, tu t’en vendras enfin en royaulme de + Paradis.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Non cures de martyrio tuo: tu venies finaliter in regnum paradisi.’ + </p> + <p> + The word hinc is omitted in the bad Latin. Unluckily we have only a + fragment of the original French, as taken down in court. The Latin + version, by Courcelles, one of the prosecutors, is in places inaccurate, + in others is actually garbled to the disadvantage of the Maid. + </p> + <p> + This passage, with some others, may perhaps be regarded as indicating that + the contents of the communications received by Jeanne were not always + intelligible to her. + </p> + <p> + That her saints could be, and were, touched physically by her, she + admitted.* Here I am inclined to think that she had touched with her ring + (as the custom was) a RELIC of St. Catherine at Fierbois. Such relics, + brought from the monastery of Sinai, lay at Fierbois, and we know that + women loved to rub their rings on the ring of Jeanne, in spite of her + laughing remonstrances. But apart from this conjecture, she regarded her + saints as tangible by her. She had embraced both St. Margaret and St. + Catherine.** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Proces, i. 185. + + **Proces, i. 186. +</pre> + <p> + For the rest, Jeanne recanted her so-called recantation, averring that she + was unaware of the contents or full significance of the document, which + certainly is not the very brief writing to which she set her mark. Her + voices recalled her to her duty, for them she went to the stake, and if + there was a moment of wavering on the day of her doom, her belief in the + objective reality of the phenomena remained firm, and she recovered her + faith in the agony of her death. + </p> + <p> + Of EXTERNAL evidence as to her accounts of these experiences, the best is + probably that of d’Aulon, the maitre d’Hotel of the Maid, and her + companion through her career. He and she were reposing in the same room at + Orleans, her hostess being in the chamber (May 1429), and d’Aulon had just + fallen asleep, when the Maid awoke him with a cry. Her voices bade her go + against the English, but in what direction she knew not. In fact, the + French leaders had begun, without her knowledge, an attack on St. Loup, + whither she galloped and took the fort.* It is, of course, conceivable + that the din of onset, which presently became audible, had vaguely reached + the senses of the sleeping Maid. Her page confirms d’Aulon’s testimony. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Proces, iii. 212. +</pre> + <p> + D’Aulon states that when the Maid had any martial adventure in prospect, + she told him that her ‘counsel’ had given her this or that advice. He + questioned her as to the nature of this ‘counsel.’ She said ‘she had three + councillors, of whom one was always with her, a second went and came to + her, and the third was he with whom the others deliberated.’ D’Aulon ‘was + not worthy to see this counsel.’ From the moment when he heard this, + d’Aulon asked no more questions. Dunois also gave some evidence as to the + ‘counsel.’ At Loches, when Jeanne was urging the journey to Rheims, + Harcourt asked her, before the King, what the nature (modus) of the + council was; HOW it communicated with her. She replied that when she was + met with incredulity, she went apart and prayed to God. Then she heard a + voice say, Fille De, va, va, va, je serai a ton aide, va! ‘And when she + heard that voice she was right glad, and would fain be ever in that + state.’ ‘As she spoke thus, ipsa miro modo exsultabat, levando suos oculos + ad coelum.‘* (She seemed wondrous glad, raising her eyes to heaven.) + Finally, that Jeanne maintained her belief to the moment of her death, we + learn from the priest, Martin Ladvenu, who was with her to the last.** + There is no sign anywhere that at the moment of an ‘experience’ the Maid’s + aspect seemed that of one ‘dissociated,’ or uncanny, or abnormal, in the + eyes of those who were in her company. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Proces, iii. 12. + + **Proces, iii. 170. +</pre> + <p> + These depositions were given twenty years later (1452-56), and, of course, + allowance must be made for weakness of memory and desire to glorify the + Maid. But there is really nothing of a suspicious character about them. In + fact, the ‘growth of legend’ was very slight, and is mainly confined to + the events of the martyrdom, the White Dove, the name of Christ blazoned + in flame, and so forth.* It should also have been mentioned that at the + taking of St. Pierre de Moustier (November 1429) Jeanne, when deserted by + her forces, declared to d’Aulon that she was ‘not alone, but surrounded by + fifty thousand of her own.’ The men therefore rallied and stormed the + place. + </p> + <p> + This is the sum of the external evidence as to the phenomena. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *For German fables see Lefevre-Pontalis, Les Sources Allemandes, +Paris, 1903. They are scanty, and, in some cases, are distortions of +real events. +</pre> + <p> + As to the contents of the communications to Jeanne, they were certainly + sane, judicious, and heroic. M. Quicherat (Apercus Nouveaux, p. 61) + distinguishes three classes of abnormally conveyed knowledge, all on + unimpeachable evidence. + </p> + <p> + (1.) THOUGHT-READING, as in the case of the King’s secret; she repeated to + him the words of a prayer which he had made mentally in his oratory. + </p> + <p> + (2.) CLAIRVOYANCE, as exhibited in the affair of the sword of Fierbois. + </p> + <p> + (3.) PRESCIENCE, as in the prophecy of her arrow-wound at Orleans. + According to her confessor, Pasquerel, she repeated the prophecy and + indicated the spot in which she would be wounded (under the right + shoulder) on the night of May 6. But this is later evidence given in the + trial of Rehabilitation. Neither Pasquerel nor any other of the Maid’s + party was heard at the trial of 1431. + </p> + <p> + To these we might add the view, from Vaucouleurs, a hundred leagues away, + of the defeat at Rouvray; the prophecy that she ‘would last but a year or + little more;’ the prophecy, at Melun, of her capture; the prophecy of the + relief of Compiegne; and the strange affair of the bon conduit at the + battle of Pathay.* For several of these predictions we have only the + Maid’s word, but to be plain, we can scarcely have more unimpeachable + testimony. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Proces, iv. 371, 372. Here the authority is Monstrelet, a +Burgundian. +</pre> + <p> + Here the compiler leaves his task: the inferences may be drawn by experts. + The old theory of imposture, the Voltairean theory of a ‘poor idiot,’ the + vague charge of ‘hysteria,’ are untenable. The honesty and the genius of + Jeanne are no longer denied. If hysteria be named, it is plain that we + must argue that, because hysteria is accompanied by visionary symptoms, + all visions are proofs of hysteria. Michelet holds by hallucinations which + were unconsciously externalised by the mind of Jeanne. That mind must have + been a very peculiar intellect, and the modus is precisely the difficulty. + Henri Martin believes in some kind of manifestation revealed to the + individual mind by the Absolute: perhaps this word is here equivalent to + ‘the subliminal self’ of Mr. Myers. Many Catholics, as yet unauthorised, I + conceive, by the Church, accept the theory of Jeanne herself; her saints + were true saints from Paradise. On the other hand it is manifest that + visions of a bright light and ‘auditions’ of voices are common enough + phenomena in madness, and in the experiences of very uninspired sane men + and women. From the sensations of these people Jeanne’s phenomena are only + differentiated by their number, by their persistence through seven years + of an almost abnormally healthy life, by their importance, orderliness, + and veracity, as well as by their heroic character. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Myers has justly compared the case of Jeanne with that of Socrates. A + much humbler parallel, curiously close in one respect, may be cited from + M. Janet’s article, ‘Les Actes Inconscients dans le Somnambulisme’ (‘Revue + Philosophique,’ March 1888). + </p> + <p> + The case is that of Madame B., a peasant woman near Cherbourg. She has her + common work-a-day personality, called, for convenience, ‘Leonie.’ There is + also her hypnotic personality, ‘Leontine.’ Now Leontine (that is, Madame + B. in a somnambulistic state) was one day hysterical and troublesome. + Suddenly she exclaimed in terror that she heard A VOICE ON THE LEFT, + crying, ‘Enough, be quiet, you are a nuisance.’ She hunted in vain for the + speaker, who, of course, was inaudible to M. Janet, though he was present. + This sagacious speaker (a faculty of Madame B.‘s own nature) is ‘brought + out’ by repeated passes, and when this moral and sensible phase of her + character is thus evoked, Madame B. is ‘Leonore.’ Madame B. now sometimes + assumes an expression of beatitude, smiling and looking upwards. As Dunois + said of Jeanne when she was recalling her visions, ‘miro modo exsultabat, + levando suos oculos ad coelum.’ This ecstasy Madame B. (as Leonie) dimly + remembers, averring that ‘she has been dazzled BY A LIGHT ON THE LEFT + SIDE.’ Here apparently we have the best aspect of poor Madame B. revealing + itself in a mixture of hysterics and hypnotism, and associating itself + with an audible sagacious voice and a dazzling light on the left, both + hallucinatory. + </p> + <p> + The coincidence (not observed by M. Janet) with Jeanne’s earliest + experience is most curious. Audivit vocem a dextero latere.... claritas + est ab eodem latere in quo vox auditur, sed ibi communiter est magna + claritas. (She heard a voice from the right. There is usually a bright + light on the same side as the voice.) Like Madame B., Jeanne was at first + alarmed by these sensations. + </p> + <p> + The parallel, so far, is perfectly complete (except that ‘Leonore’ merely + talks common sense, while Jeanne’s voices gave information not normally + acquired). But in Jeanne’s case I have found no hint of temporary + unconsciousness or ‘dissociation.’ When strung up to the most intense + mental eagerness in court, she still heard her voices, though, because of + the tumult of the assembly, she heard them indistinctly. Thus her + experiences are not associated with insanity, partial unconsciousness, or + any physical disturbance (as in some tales of second sight), while the + sagacity of the communications and their veracity distinguish them from + the hallucinations of mad people. As far as the affair of Rouvray, the + prophecy of the instant death of an insolent soldier at Chinon (evidence + of Pasquerel, her confessor), and such things go, we have, of course, many + alleged parallels in the predictions of Mr. Peden and other seers of the + Covenant. But Mr. Peden’s political predictions are still unfulfilled, + whereas concerning the ‘dear gage’ which the English should lose in France + within seven years, Jeanne may be called successful. + </p> + <p> + On the whole, if we explain Jeanne’s experiences as the expressions of her + higher self (as Leonore is Madame B.‘s higher self), we are compelled to + ask what is the nature of that self? + </p> + <p> + Another parallel, on a low level, to what may be called the mechanism of + Jeanne’s voices and visions is found in Professor Flournoy’s patient, + ‘Helene Smith.‘* Miss ‘Smith,’ a hardworking shopwoman in Geneva, had, as + a child, been dull but dreamy. At about twelve years of age she began to + see, and hear, a visionary being named Leopold, who, in life, had been + Cagliostro. His appearance was probably suggested by an illustration in + the Joseph Balsamo of Alexandre Dumas. The saints of Jeanne, in the same + way, may have been suggested by works of sacred art in statues and church + windows. To Miss Smith, Leopold played the part of Jeanne’s saints. He + appeared and warned her not to take such or such a street when walking, + not to try to lift a parcel which seemed light, but was very heavy, and in + other ways displayed knowledge not present to her ordinary workaday self. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *See Flournoy, Des Indes a la Planete Mars. Alcan, Paris, 1900. +</pre> + <p> + There was no real Leopold, and Jeanne’s St. Catherine cannot be shown to + have ever been a real historical personage.* These figures, in fact, are + more or less akin to the ‘invisible playmates’ familiar to many + children.** They are not objective personalities, but part of the + mechanism of a certain class of mind. The mind may be that of a person + devoid of genius, like Miss Smith, or of a genius like Goethe, Shelley, or + Jeanne d’Arc, or Socrates with his ‘Daemon,’ and its warnings. In the case + of Jeanne d’Arc, as of Socrates, the mind communicated knowledge not in + the conscious everyday intelligence of the Athenian or of la Pucelle. This + information, in Jeanne’s case, was presented in the shape of + hallucinations of eye and ear. It was sane, wise, noble, veracious, and + concerned not with trifles, but with great affairs. We are not encouraged + to suppose that saints or angels made themselves audible and visible. But, + by the mechanism of such appearances to the senses, that which was divine + in the Maid—in all of us, if we follow St. Paul—that ‘in which + we live and move and have our being,’ made itself intelligible to her + ordinary consciousness, her workaday self, and led her to the fulfilment + of a task which seemed impossible to men. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *See the Life and Martyrdom of St. Katherine of Alexandria. +(Roxburghe Club, 1884, Introduction by Mr. Charles Hardwick). Also the +writer’s translation of the chapel record of the ‘Miracles of Madame St. +Catherine of Fierbois,’ in the Introduction. (London, Nutt.) + + **See the writer’s preface to Miss Corbet’s Animal Land for a singular +example in our own time. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. THE MYSTERY OF JAMES DE LA CLOCHE + </h2> + <p> + ‘P’raps he was my father—though on this subjict I can’t speak + suttinly, for my ma wrapped up my buth in a mistry. I may be illygitmit, I + may have been changed at nuss.’ + </p> + <p> + In these strange words does Mr. Thackeray’s Jeames de la Pluche anticipate + the historical mystery of James de la Cloche. HIS ‘buth’ is ‘wrapped up in + a mistry,’ HIS ‘ma’ is a theme of doubtful speculation; his father (to all + appearance) was Charles II. We know not whether James de la Cloche—rejecting + the gaudy lure of three crowns—lived and died a saintly Jesuit; or + whether, on the other hand, he married beneath him, was thrown into gaol, + was sentenced to a public whipping, was pardoned and released, and died at + the age of twenty-three, full of swaggering and impenitent impudence. Was + there but one James de la Cloche, a scion of the noblest of European royal + lines? Did he, after professions of a holy vocation, suddenly assume the + most secular of characters, jilting Poverty and Obedience for an earthly + bride? Or was the person who appears to have acted in this unworthy manner + a mere impostor, who had stolen James’s money and jewels and royal name? + If so, what became of the genuine and saintly James de la Cloche? He is + never heard of any more, whether because he assumed an ecclesiastical + alias, or because he was effectually silenced by the person who took his + character, name, money, and parentage. + </p> + <p> + There are two factions in the dispute about de la Cloche. The former + (including the late Lord Acton and Father Boero) believe that James + adhered to his sacred vocation, while the second James was a rank + impostor. The other party holds that the frivolous and secular James was + merely the original James, who suddenly abandoned his vocation, and burst + on the world as a gay cavalier, and claimant of the rank of Prince of + Wales, or, at least, of the revenues and perquisites of that position. + </p> + <p> + The first act in the drama was discovered by Father Boero, who printed the + documents as to James de la Cloche in his ‘History of the Conversion to + the Catholic Church of Charles II., King of England,’ in the sixth and + seventh volumes, fifth series, of La Civilta Cattolica (Rome, 1863). (The + essays can be procured in a separate brochure.) Father Boero says not a + word about the second and secular James, calling himself ‘Giacopo + Stuardo.’ But the learned father had communicated the papers about de la + Cloche to Lord Acton, who wrote an article on the subject, ‘The Secret + History of Charles II.,’ in ‘The Home and Foreign Review,’ July 1862. Lord + Acton now added the story of the second James, or of the second avatar of + the first James, from State Papers in our Record Office. The documents as + to de la Cloche are among the MSS. of the Society of Jesus at Rome. + </p> + <p> + The purpose of Father Boero was not to elucidate a romance in royal life, + but to prove that Charles II. had, for many years, been sincerely inclined + to the Catholic creed, though thwarted by his often expressed + disinclination to ‘go on his travels again.’ In point of fact, the + religion of Charles II. might probably be stated in a celebrated figure of + Pascal’s. Let it be granted that reason can discover nothing as to the + existence of any ground for religion. Let it be granted that we cannot + know whether there is a God or not. Yet either there is, or there is not. + It is even betting, heads or tails, croix ou pile. This being so, it is + wiser to bet that there is a God. It is safer. If you lose, you are just + where you were, except for the pleasures which you desert. If you win, you + win everything! What you stake is finite, a little pleasure; if you win, + you win infinite bliss. + </p> + <p> + So far Charles was prepared theoretically to go but he would not abandon + his diversions. A God there is, but ‘He’s a good fellow, and ‘twill all be + well.’ God would never punish a man, he told Burnet, for taking ‘a little + irregular pleasure.’ Further, Charles saw that, if bet he must, the safest + religion to back was that of Catholicism. Thereby he could—it was + even betting—actually ensure his salvation. But if he put on his + money publicly, if he professed Catholicism, he certainly lost his + kingdoms. Consequently he tried to be a crypto-Catholic, but he was not + permitted to practise one creed and profess another. THAT the Pope would + not stand. So it was on his death-bed that he made his desperate plunge, + and went, it must be said, bravely, on the darkling voyage. + </p> + <p> + Not to dwell on Charles’s earlier dalliances with Rome, in November 1665, + his kinsman, Ludovick Stewart, Sieur d’Aubigny, of the Scoto-French Lennox + Stewarts, was made a cardinal, and then died. Charles had now no man whom + he could implicitly trust in his efforts to become formally, but secretly, + a Catholic. And now James de la Cloche comes on the scene. Father Boero + publishes, from the Jesuit archives, a strange paper, purporting to be + written and signed by the King’s hand, and sealed with his private seal, + that diamond seal, whereof the impression brought such joy to the soul of + the disgraced Archbishop Sharp. Father Boero attests the authenticity of + seal and handwriting. In this paper, Charles acknowledges his paternity of + James Stuart, ‘who, by our command, has hitherto lived in France and other + countries under a feigned name.’ He has come to London, and is to bear the + name of ‘de la Cloche du Bourg de Jarsey.’ De la Cloche is not to produce + this document, ‘written in his own language’ (French), till after the + King’s death. (It is important to note that James de la Cloche seems to + have spoken no language except French.) The paper is dated ‘Whitehall, + September 27, 1665,’ when, as Lord Acton observes, the Court, during the + Plague, was NOT at Whitehall.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Civ. Catt. Series V., vol. vi. 710. Home and Foreign Review, vol. +i. 156. +</pre> + <p> + Lord Acton conjectured that the name ‘de la Cloche’ was taken from that of + a Protestant minister in Jersey (circ. 1646). This is the more probable, + as Charles later invented a false history of his son, who was to be + described as the son of ‘a rich preacher, deceased.’ The surname, de la + Cloche, had really been that of a preacher in Jersey, and survives in + Jersey. + </p> + <p> + After 1665, James de la Cloche was pursuing his studies in Holland, being + at this time a Protestant. Conceivably he had been brought up in a French + Huguenot family, like that of the de Rohan. On February 7, 1667, Charles + wrote a new document. In this he grants to de la Cloche 500 pounds a year, + while he lives in London and adheres to ‘the religion of his father and + the Anglican service book.’ But, in that very year (July 29, 1667), de la + Cloche went to Hamburg, and was there received into the Catholic Church, + forfeiting his pension. + </p> + <p> + Christina of Sweden was then residing in Hamburg. De la Cloche apprised + her of his real position—a son of the King of England—and must + have shown her in proof Charles’s two letters of 1665 and 1667. If so—and + how else could he prove his birth?—he broke faith with Charles, but, + apparently, he did not mean to use Charles’s letters as proof of his + origin when applying, as he did, for admission to the novitiate of the + Jesuits at Rome. He obtained from Christina a statement, in Latin, that + Charles had acknowledged him, privately, to her, as his son. This note of + Christina’s, de la Cloche was to show to his director at Rome. + </p> + <p> + It does not appear that Charles had ever told Christina a word about the + matter. These pious monarchs were far from being veracious. However, + Christina’s document would save the young man much trouble, on the point + of his illegitimacy, when, on April 11, 1668, he entered St. Andrea al + Quirinale as a Jesuit novice. He came in poverty. His wardrobe was of the + scantiest. He had two shirts, a chamois leather chest protector, three + collars, and three pairs of sleeves. He described himself as ‘Jacques de + la Cloche, of Jersey, British subject,’ and falsely, or ignorantly, stated + his age as twenty-four. Really he was twenty-two.* Why he told Christina + his secret, why he let her say that Charles had told her, we do not know. + It may be that the General of the Jesuits, Oliva, did not yet know who de + la Cloche really was. Meanwhile, his religious vocation led him to forfeit + 500 pounds yearly, and expectations, and to disobey his father and king. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Civ. Catt., ut supra, 712, 713, and notes. +</pre> + <p> + The good King took all very easily. On August 3, 1668, he wrote a longa et + verbosa epistola, from Whitehall, to the General of the Jesuits. His face + was now set towards the secret treaty of Dover and conversion. The + conversion of his son, therefore, seemed truly providential. Charles had + discussed it with his own mother and his wife. To Oliva he wrote in + French, explaining that his Latin was ‘poor,’ and that, if he wrote + English, an interpreter would be needed, but that no Englishman was to + ‘put his nose’ into this affair. He had long prayed God to give him a safe + and secret chance of conversion, but he could not use, without exciting + suspicion, the priests then in England. On the other hand, his son would + do: the young cavalier then at Rome, named de la Cloche de Jersey. This + lad was the pledge of an early love for ‘a young lady of a family among + the most distinguished in our kingdoms.’ He was a child of the King’s + ‘earliest youth,’ that is, during his residence in Jersey, March-June + 1646, when Charles was sixteen. In a few years, the King hoped to + recognise him publicly. With him alone could Charles practise secretly the + mysteries of the Church. To such edifying ends had God turned an offence + against His laws, an amourette. De la Cloche, of course, was as yet not a + priest, and could not administer sacraments, an idea which occurred to + Charles himself. + </p> + <p> + The Queen of Sweden, Charles added, was prudent, but, being a woman, she + probably could not keep a secret. Charles wants his son to come home, and + asks the Jesuit to put off Christina with any lie he pleases, if she asks + questions. In short, he regards the General of the Jesuits as a person + ready to tell any convenient falsehood, and lets this opinion appear with + perfect naivete! He will ask the Pope to hurry de la Cloche into priest’s + orders, or, if that is not easy, he will have the thing done in Paris, by + means of Louis XIV., or his own sister, Henrietta (Madame). Or the Queen + and Queen Mother can have it done in London, as they ‘have bishops at + their will.’ The King has no desire to interrupt his son’s vocation as a + Jesuit. In London the young man must avoid Jesuit society, and other + occasions of suspicion. He ends with a promise of subscriptions to Jesuit + objects.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Civ. Catt. Series V., vii. 269-274. +</pre> + <p> + By the same courier, the King wrote to ‘Our most honoured son, the Prince + Stuart, dwelling with the R.P. Jesuits under the name of Signor de la + Cloche.’ James may be easy about money. He must be careful of his health, + which is delicate, and not voyage at an unhealthy season. The Queens are + anxious to see him. He should avoid asceticism. He may yet be recognised, + and take precedence of his younger and less nobly born brother, the Duke + of Monmouth. The King expresses his affection for a son of excellent + character, and distinguished by the solidity of his studies and + acquirements. If toleration is gained, de la Cloche has some chance of the + English throne, supposing Charles and the Duke of York to die without + issue male. Parliament will be unable to oppose this arrangement, unless + Catholics are excluded from the succession. + </p> + <p> + This has a crazy sound. The Crown would have been in no lack of legitimate + heirs, failing offspring male of the King and the Duke of York. + </p> + <p> + If de la Cloche, however, persists in his vocation, so be it. The King may + get for him a cardinal’s hat. The King assures his son of his affection, + not only as the child of his extreme youth, but for the virtues of his + character. De la Cloche must travel as a simple gentleman.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Ut supra, 275, 278. +</pre> + <p> + On August 29, Charles again wrote to Oliva. He had heard that the Queen of + Sweden was going to Rome. De la Cloche must not meet her, she might let + out the secret: he must come home at once. If Charles is known to be a + Catholic, there will be tumults, and he will lose his life. Another + letter, undated, asks that the novice, contrary to rule, may travel alone, + with no Jesuit chaperon, and by sea, direct from Genoa. Consulting + physicians, the King has learned that sea sickness is never fatal, rather + salutary. His travelling name should be Henri de Rohan, as if he were of + that Calvinistic house, friends of the King. The story must be circulated + that de la Cloche is the son of a rich preacher, deceased, and that he has + gone to visit his mother, who is likely to be converted. He must leave his + religious costume with the Jesuits at Genoa, and pick it up there on his + return. He must not land at the port of London, but at some other harbour, + and thence drive to town.* + </p> + <p> + Ut supra, 283-287. + </p> + <p> + On October 14, d’Oliva, from Leghorn, wrote to Charles that ‘the French + gentleman’ was on the seas. On November 18, Charles wrote to d’Oliva that + his son was returning to Rome as his secret ambassador, and, by the King’s + orders, was to come back to London, bearing answers to questions which he + will put verbally. In France he leaves a Jesuit whom he is to pick up as + he again makes for England.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Father Florent Dumas, in a rather florid essay on ‘The Saintly Son +of Charles II,’ supposes that, after all, he had a Jesuit chaperon +during his expedition to England (Jesuit Etudes de Rel., Hist. et Lit., +Paris, 1864-1865). +</pre> + <p> + The questions to which de la Cloche is to bring answers doubtless + concerned the wish of Charles to be a Catholic secretly, and other + arrangements which he is known to have suggested on another occasion. + </p> + <p> + After this letter of November 18, 1668, WE NEVER HEAR A WORD ABOUT JAMES + DE LA CLOCHE.* No later letters from the King to d’Oliva are found, the + name of James de la Cloche does not occur again in the Records of the + Society of Jesus. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Ut supra, 418-420. +</pre> + <p> + Father Boero argues that James would return to London, under a third name, + unknown. But it would be risky for one who had appeared in England under + one name in 1665, and under another (Rohan) in 1668, to turn up under a + third in 1669. To take aliases, often three or four, was, however, the + custom of the English Jesuits, and de la Cloche may have chosen his + fourth. Thus we could not trace him, in records, unless Charles wrote + again to d’Oliva about his son. No such letter exists. In his letter of + November 18, Charles promises, in a year, a subscription to the Jesuit + building fund—this at his son’s request. I know not if the money was + ever paid. He also asks Oliva to give James 800 doppie for expenses, to be + repaid in six months. + </p> + <p> + James did not leave the Society of Jesus, argues Father Boero, for, had he + left, he would have carried away the papers in which Charles acknowledges + him and promises a pension of 500 pounds yearly. But that document would + be useless to James, whether he remained a Jesuit or not, for the + condition of the pension (1667) was that he should be a Protestant of the + Anglican sect, and live in London. However, Charles’s letter of 1668 was + in another tune, and James certainly left THAT with the Jesuits in Rome; + at least, they possess it now. But suppose that James fled secretly from + the Jesuits, then he probably had no chance of recovering his papers. He + was not likely to run away, however, for, Charles says, he ‘did not like + London,’ or the secular life, and he appears to have returned to Rome at + the end of 1668, with every intention of fulfilling his mission and + pursuing his vocation. His return mission to England over, he probably + would finish his Jesuit training at a college in France or Flanders, say + St. Omer’s, where Titus Oates for a while abode. No James de la Cloche is + known there or elsewhere, but he might easily adopt a new alias, and + Charles would have no need to write to Oliva about him. It may be that + James was the priest at St. Omer’s, whom, in 1670, Charles had arranged to + send, but did not send, to Clement IX.* He may also be the priest secretly + brought from abroad to Charles during the Popish Plot (1678-1681).** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Mignet, Neg. rel. Succ. d’Espagne, iii. 232. + + **Welwood, Memoirs, 146. +</pre> + <p> + These are suggestions of Lord Acton, who thinks that de la Cloche may also + have been the author of two papers, in French, on religion, left by + Charles, in his own hand, at his death.* These are conjectures. If we + accept them, de la Cloche was a truly self-denying young semi-Prince, + preferring an austere life to the delights and honours which attended his + younger brother, the Duke of Monmouth. But, just when de la Cloche should + have been returning from Rome to London, at the end of 1668 or beginning + of 1669, a person calling himself James Stuart, son of Charles II., by an + amour, at Jersey, in 1646, with a ‘Lady Mary Henrietta Stuart,’ appeared + in some magnificence at Naples. This James Stuart either was, or affected + to be, James de la Cloche. Whoever he was, the King’s carefully guarded + secret was out, was public property. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Home and Foreign Review, i. 165. +</pre> + <p> + Our information as to this James Stuart, or Giacopo Stuardo, son of the + King of England—the cavalier who appears exactly when the Jesuit + novice, James de la Cloche, son of the King of England, vanishes—is + derived from two sources. First there are Roman newsletters, forwarded to + England by Kent, the English agent at Rome, with his own despatches in + English. It does not appear to me that Kent had, as a rule, any intimate + purveyor of intelligence at Naples. He seems, in his own letters to + Williamson,* merely to follow and comment on the Italian newsletters which + he forwards and the gossip of ‘the Nation,’ that is, the English in Rome. + The newsletters, of course, might be under the censorship of Rome and + Naples. Such is one of our sources.** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *See ‘The Valet’s Master,’ for other references to Williamson. + + **State Papers, Italian, 1669, Bundle 10, Record Office. +</pre> + <p> + Lord Acton, in 1862, and other writers, have relied solely on this first + set of testimonies. But the late Mr. Maziere Brady has apparently ignored + or been unacquainted with these materials, and he cites a printed book not + quoted by Lord Acton.* This work is the third volume of the ‘Lettere’ of + Vincenzo Armanni of Gubbio, who wrote much about the conversion of + England, and had himself been in that country. The work quoted was printed + (privately?) by Giuseppe Piccini, at Macerata, in 1674, and, so far, I + have been unable to see an example. The British Museum Library has no + copy, and the ‘Lettere’ are unknown to Brunet. We have thus to take a + secondhand version of Armanni’s account. He says that his informant was + one of two confessors, employed successively by Prince James Stuart, at + Naples, in January-August 1669. Now, Kent sent to England an English + translation of the Italian will of James Stuart. A will is also given, of + course in Italian, by Vincenzo Armanni; a copy of this is in the Record + Office. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Maziere Brady, Anglo-Roman Papers, pp. 93-121 (Gardner Paisley, +1890). +</pre> + <p> + It appears from this will that James Stuart, for reasons of his own, + actually did enjoy the services of two successive confessors, at Naples, + in 1669. The earlier of these two was Armanni’s informant. His account of + James Stuart differs from that of Kent and the Italian newsletters, which + we repeat, alone are cited by Lord Acton (1862); while Mr. Brady (1890), + citing Armanni, knows nothing of the newsletters and Kent, and conceives + himself to be the first writer in English on the subject. + </p> + <p> + Turning to our first source, the newsletters of Rome, and the letters of + Kent, the dates in each case prove that Kent, with variations, follows the + newsletters. The gazzetta of March 23, 1669, is the source of Kent’s + despatch of March 30. On the gazzette of April 6, 13, and 20, he makes no + comment, but his letter of June 16 varies more or less from the newsletter + of June 11. His despatch of September 7 corresponds to the newsletter of + the same date, but is much more copious. + </p> + <p> + Taking these authorities in order of date, we find the newsletter of Rome + (March 23, 1669) averring that an unknown English gentleman has been ‘for + some months’ at Naples, that is, since January at least, and has fallen in + love with the daughter of a poor innkeeper, or host (locandiere). He is a + Catholic and has married the girl. The newly made father-in-law has been + spending freely the money given to him by the bridegroom. Armanni, as + summarised by Mr. Brady, states the matter of the money thus: ‘The Prince + was anxious to make it appear that his intended father-in-law was not + altogether a pauper, and accordingly he gave a sum of money to Signor + Francesco Corona to serve as a dowry for Teresa. Signor Corona could not + deny himself the pleasure of exhibiting this money before his friends, and + he indiscreetly boasted before his neighbours concerning his rich + son-in-law.’ + </p> + <p> + From Armanni’s version, derived from the confessor of James Stuart, it + appears that nothing was said as to James’s royal birth till after his + arrest, when he informed the Viceroy of Naples in self-defence. + </p> + <p> + To return to the newsletter of March 23, it represents that the Viceroy + heard of the unwonted expenditure of money by Corona, and seized the + English son-in-law on suspicion. In his possession the Viceroy found about + 200 doppie, many jewels, and some papers in which he was addressed as + Altezza (Highness). The word doppie is used by Charles (in Boero’s Italian + translation) for the 800 coins which he asks Oliva to give to de la Cloche + for travelling expenses. Were James Stuart’s 200 doppie the remains of the + 800? Lord Acton exaggerates when he writes vaguely that Stuart possessed + ‘heaps of pistoles.’ Two hundred doppie (about 150 or 160 pounds) are not + ‘heaps.’ To return to the newsletter, the idea being current that the + young man was a natural son of the King of England, he was provisionally + confined in the castle of St. Elmo. On April 6, he is reported to be shut + up in the castle of Gaeta. On the 20th, we hear that fifty scudi monthly + have been assigned to the prisoner for his support. The Viceroy has + written (to England) to ask what is to be done with him. + </p> + <p> + On June 11, it is reported that, after being removed to the Vicaria, a + prison for vulgar malefactors, the captive has been released. He is NOT + the son of the King of England. + </p> + <p> + Kent’s letter of March 30 follows the newsletter of March 23. He adds that + the unknown Englishman ‘seems’ to have ‘vaunted to bee the King of + England’s sonne BORNE AT GERSEY,’ a fact never expressly stated about de + la Cloche. It is not clear that James Stuart vaunted his birth before his + arrest made it necessary for him to give an account of himself. Kent also + says that the unknown sent for the English consul, Mr. Browne, ‘to assist + his delivery out of the castle. But it seems he could not speake a word of + English nor give any account of the birth he pretended to.’ On Kent’s + showing, he had no documentary proofs of his royal birth. French was de la + Cloche’s language, if this unknown was he, and if Kent is right, he had + not with him the two documents and the letter of Charles II. and the + certificate of the Queen of Sweden. ‘This is all the light I can picke out + of the Nation, or others, of his extravagant story, which whether will end + in Prince or cheate I shall endeavour to inform you hereafter.’ + </p> + <p> + Kent’s next letter (June 16) follows, with variations, the newsletter of + June 11:—Kent to J. Williamson + </p> + <p> + June 16, 1669. + </p> + <p> + The Gentleman who WOULD HAVE BEENE HIS MAT’YS BASTARD at Naples, vpon the + receipt of his Ma’ties Letters to that Vice King was immediately taken out + of the Castle of Gaetta brought to Naples and Cast into the Grand Prison + called the Vicaria, where being thrust amongst the most Vile and infamous + Rascalls, the Vice King intended to have Caused him to bee whipt about the + Citty, but meanes was made by his wife’s kindred (Who was Likewise taken + with this pretended Prince) to the Vice-Queene, who, in compassion to her + and her kindred, prevailed with Don Pedro to deliver him from that Shame + [and from gaol, it seems], and soe ends the Story of this fourb WHO SPEAKS + NOE LANGUADGE BUT FFRENCH. + </p> + <p> + The newsletter says nothing of the intended whipping, or of the + intercession of the family of the wife of the unknown. These points may be + the additions of gossips. + </p> + <p> + In any case the unknown, with his wife, after a stay of no long time in + the Vicaria, is set at liberty. His release might be explained on the + ground that Charles disavowed and cast him off, which he might safely do, + if the man was really de la Cloche, but had none of the papers proving his + birth, the papers which are still in the Jesuit archives. Or he may have + had the papers, and they may have been taken from him and restored to the + Jesuit General. + </p> + <p> + So far, the betting as to whether de la Cloche and the Naples pretender + were the same man or not is at evens. Each hypothesis is beset by + difficulties. It is highly improbable that the unworldly and enthusiastic + Jesuit novice threw up, at its very crisis, a mission which might lead his + king, his father, and the British Empire back into the one Fold. De la + Cloche, forfeiting his chances of an earthly crown, was on the point of + gaining a heavenly one. It seems to the last degree unlikely that he would + lose this and leave the Jesuits to whom he had devoted himself, and the + quiet life of study and religion, for the worldly life which he disliked, + and for that life on a humble capital of a few hundred pounds, and some + jewels, presents, perhaps from the two Queens, his grandmother and + stepmother. De la Cloche knew that Charles, if the novice clung to + religion, had promised to procure for him, if he desired it, a cardinal’s + hat; while if, with Charles’s approval, he left religion, he might be a + prince, perhaps a king. He had thus every imaginable motive for behaving + with decorum—in religion or out of it. Yet, if he is the Naples + pretender, he suddenly left the Jesuits without Charles’s knowledge and + approval, but by a freakish escapade, like ‘The Start’ of Charles himself + as a lad, when he ran away from Argyll and the Covenanters. And he did + this before he ever saw Teresa Corona. He reminds one of the Huguenot + pastor in London, whom an acquaintance met on the Turf. ‘I not preacher + now, I gay dog,’ explained the holy man. + </p> + <p> + All this is, undeniably, of a high improbability. But on the other side, + de la Cloche was freakish and unsettled. He had but lately (1667) asked + for and accepted a pension to be paid while he remained an Anglican, then + he was suddenly received into the Roman Church, and started off, probably + on foot, with his tiny ‘swag’ of three shirts and three collars, to walk + to Rome and become a Jesuit. He may have deserted the Jesuits as suddenly + and recklessly as he had joined them. It is not impossible. He may have + received the 800 pounds for travelling expenses from Oliva; not much of it + was left by March 1669—only about 150 pounds. On the theory that the + man at Naples was an impostor, it is odd that he should only have spoken + French, that he was charged with no swindles, that he made a very poor + marriage in place of aiming at a rich union; that he had, somehow, learned + de la Cloche’s secret; and that, possessing a fatal secret, invaluable to + a swindler and blackmailer, he was merely disgraced and set free. Louis + XIV. would, at least, have held him a masked captive for the rest of his + life. But he was liberated, and, after a brief excursion, returned to + Naples, where he died, maintaining that he was a prince. + </p> + <p> + Thus, on either view, ‘prince or cheat,’ we are met by things almost + impossible. + </p> + <p> + We now take up the Naples man’s adventure as narrated by Kent. He writes: + </p> + <p> + Kent to Jo: Williamson + </p> + <p> + Rome: August 31, 1669. + </p> + <p> + That certaine fellow or what hee was, who pretended to bee his Ma’ties + naturall sonn at Naples is dead and haueing made his will they write mee + from thence wee shall with the next Poast know the truth of his quality. + </p> + <p> + September 7, 1669. + </p> + <p> + That certaine Person at Naples who in his Lyfe tyme would needes bee his + Ma’ties naturall Sonne is dead in the same confidence and Princely humour, + for haueing Left his Lady Teresa Corona, an ordinary person, 7 months gone + with Child, hee made his Testament, and hath Left his most Xtian Ma’tie + (whom he called Cousin) executor of it. + </p> + <p> + Hee had been absent from Naples some tyme pretending to haue made a + journey into France to visit his Mother, Dona Maria Stuarta of His Ma’tie + Royall Family, which neernes and greatnes of Blood was the cause, Saies + hee, that his Ma’tie would never acknowledge him for his Sonn, his mother + Dona Maria Stuarta was, it seemes, dead before hee came into France. In + his will hee desires the present King of England Carlo 2nd to allow His + Prince Hans in Kelder eighty thousand Ducketts, which is his Mother’s + Estate, he Leaues Likewise to his Child and Mother Teresa 291 thousand + Ducketts which hee calls Legacies. Hee was buried in the Church of St. + Fran’co Di Paolo out of the Porta Capuana (for hee dyed of this Religion). + He left 400 pounds for a Lapide to have his name and quality engrauen vpon + it for hee called himself Don Jacopo Stuarto, and this is the end of that + Princely Cheate or whatever hee was. + </p> + <p> + The newsletter of September 7 merely mentions the death and the will. On + this occasion Kent had private intelligence from a correspondent in + Naples. Copies of the will, in English and in Italian, were forwarded to + England, where both copies remain. + </p> + <p> + ‘This will,’ Lord Acton remarked, ‘is fatal to the case for the Prince.’ + If not fatal, it is a great obstacle to the cause of the Naples man. He + claims as his mother, Donna Maria Stewart, ‘of the family of the Barons of + San Marzo.’ If Marzo means ‘March,’ the Earl of March was a title in the + Lennox family. The only Mary Stewart in that family known to Douglas’s + ‘Peerage’ was younger than James de la Cloche, and died, the wife of the + Earl of Arran, in 1667, at the age of eighteen. She may have had some + outlying cousin Mary, but nothing is known of such a possible mother of de + la Cloche. Again, the testator begs Charles II. to give his unborn child + ‘the ordinary principality either of Wales or Monmouth, or other province + customary to be given to the natural sons of the Crown;’ to the value of + 100,000 scudi! + </p> + <p> + Could de la Cloche be so ignorant as to suppose that a royal bastard might + be created Prince of Wales? He certainly knew, from Charles’s letter, that + his younger brother was already Duke of Monmouth. His legacies are of + princely munificence, but—he is to be buried at the expense of his + father-in-law. + </p> + <p> + By way of security for his legacies, the testator ‘assigns and gives his + lands, called the Marquisate of Juvignis, worth 300,000 scudi.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Brady writes: ‘Juvignis is probably a mistake for Aubigny, the dukedom + which belonged to the Dukes of Richmond and Lennox by the older creation.’ + But a dukedom is not a marquisate, nor could de la Cloche hold Aubigny, of + which the last holder was Ludovick Stewart, who died, a cardinal, in + November 1665. The lands then reverted to the French Crown. Moreover, + there are two places called Juvigny, or Juvignis, in north-eastern France + (Orne and Manche). Conceivably one or other of these belonged to the house + of Rohan, and James Stuart’s posthumous son, one of whose names is + ‘Roano,’ claimed a title from Juvigny or Juvignis, among other absurd + pretensions. ‘Henri de Rohan’ was only the travelling name of de la Cloche + in 1668, though it is conceivable that he was brought up by the de Rohan + family, friendly to Charles II. + </p> + <p> + The whole will is incompatible with all that de la Cloche must have known. + Being in Italian it cannot have been intelligible to him, and may + conceivably be the work of an ignorant Neapolitan attorney, while de la + Cloche, as a dying man, may have signed without understanding much of what + he signed. The folly of the Corona family may thus (it is a mere + suggestion) be responsible for this absurd testament. Armanni, however, + represents the man as sane, and very devout, till his death. + </p> + <p> + A posthumous child, a son, was born and lived a scrambling life, now + ‘recognised’ abroad, now in prison and poverty, till we lose him about + 1750.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *A. F. Steuart, Engl. Hist. Review, July 1903, ‘The Neapolitan +Stuarts.’ Maziere Brady, ut supra. +</pre> + <p> + Among his sham titles are Dux Roani and ‘de Roano,’ clearly referring, as + Mr. Steuart notices, to de la Cloche’s travelling name of Henri de Rohan. + The Neapolitan pretender, therefore, knew the secret of that incognito, + and so of de la Cloche’s mission to England in 1668. That, possessing this + secret, he was set free, is a most unaccountable circumstance. Charles had + written to Oliva that his life hung on absolute secrecy, yet the owner of + the secret is left at liberty. + </p> + <p> + Our first sources leave us in these perplexities. They are not + disentangled by the ‘Lettere’ of Vincenzo Armanni (1674). I have been + unable, as has been said, to see this book. In the summary by Mr. Brady we + read that (1668-1669) Prince James Stuart, with a French Knight of the + Order of St. John of Jerusalem, came to Naples for his health. This must + have been in December 1668 or January 1669; by March 1669 the pretender + had been ‘for some months’ in Naples. The Frenchman went by way of Malta + to England, recommending Prince James to a confessor at Naples, who was a + parish priest. This priest was Armanni’s informant. He advised the Prince + to lodge with Corona, and here James proposed to Teresa. She at first held + aloof, and the priest discountenanced the affair. The Prince ceased to be + devout, but later chose another confessor. Both priests knew, in + confession, the secret of his birth: the Prince says so in his will, and + leaves them great legacies. So far Armanni’s version is corroborated. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Brady goes on, citing Armanni: ‘At last he chose another spiritual + director, to whom he revealed not only his passion for Teresa Corona, but + also the secret of his birth, showing to him the letters written by the + Queen of Sweden and the Father General of the Jesuits.’ Was the latter + document Oliva’s note from Leghorn of October 14, 1668? That did not + contain a word about de la Cloche’s birth: he is merely styled ‘the French + gentleman.’ Again, the letter of the Queen of Sweden is now in the Jesuit + archives; how could it be in the possession of the pretender at Naples? + Was it taken from him in prison, and returned to Oliva? + </p> + <p> + The new confessor approved of the wedding which was certainly celebrated + on February 19, 1669. Old Corona now began to show his money: his new + son-in-law was suspected of being a false coiner, and was arrested by the + Viceroy. ‘The certificates and papers attesting the parentage of James + Stuart were then produced....’ How could this be—they were in the + hands of the Jesuits at Rome. Had de la Cloche brought them to Naples, the + Corona family would have clung to them, but they are in the Gesu at Rome + to this day. The rest is much as we know it, save, what is important, that + the Prince, from prison, ‘wrote to the General of the Jesuits, beseeching + him to interpose his good offices with the Viceroy, and to obtain + permission for him to go to England via Leghorn’ (as in 1688) ‘and + Marseilles.’ + </p> + <p> + Armanni knew nothing, or says nothing, of de la Cloche’s having been in + the Jesuit novitiate. His informant, the priest, must have known that, but + under seal of confession, so he would not tell Armanni. He did tell him + that James Stuart wrote to the Jesuit general, asking his help in + procuring leave to go to England. The General knew de la Cloche’s hand, + and would not be taken in by the impostor’s. This point is in favour of + the identity of James Stuart with de la Cloche. The Viceroy had, however, + already written to London, and waited for a reply. ‘Immediately on arrival + of the answer from London, the Prince was set at liberty and left Naples. + It may be supposed he went to England. After a few months he returned to + Naples with an assignment of 50,000 scudi,’ and died of fever. + </p> + <p> + Nothing is said by Armanni of the imprisonment among the low scum of the + Vicaria: nothing of the intended whipping, nothing of the visit by James + Stuart to France. The 50,000 scudi have a mythical ring. Why should James, + if he had 50,000 scudi, be buried at the expense of his father-in-law, who + also has to pay 50 ducats to the notary for drawing the will of this + ‘prince or cheate’? Probably the parish priest and ex-confessor of the + prince was misinformed on some points. The Corona family would make out + the best case they could for their royal kinsman. + </p> + <p> + Was the man of Naples ‘prince or cheate’? Was he de la Cloche, or, as Lord + Acton suggests, a servant who had robbed de la Cloche of money and papers? + </p> + <p> + Every hypothesis (we shall recapitulate them) which we can try as a key + fails to fit the lock. Say that de la Cloche had confided his secret to a + friend among the Jesuit novices; say that this young man either robbed de + la Cloche, or, having money and jewels of his own, fled from the S. Andrea + training college, and, when arrested, assumed the name and pretended to + the rank of de la Cloche. This is not inconceivable, but it is odd that he + had no language but French, and that, possessing secrets of capital + importance, he was released from prison, and allowed to depart where he + would, and return to Naples when he chose. + </p> + <p> + Say that a French servant of de la Cloche robbed and perhaps even murdered + him. In that case he certainly would not have been released from prison. + The man at Naples was regarded as a gentleman, but that is not so + important in an age when the low scoundrel, Bedloe, could pass in Spain + and elsewhere for an English peer. + </p> + <p> + But again, if the Naples man is a swindler, as already remarked, he + behaves unlike one. A swindler would have tried to entrap a woman of + property into a marriage—he might have seduced, but would not have + married, the penniless Teresa Corona, giving what money he had to her + father. When arrested, the man had not in money more than 160 pounds. His + maintenance, while in prison, was paid for by the Viceroy. No detaining + charges, from other victims, appear to have been lodged against him. His + will ordains that the document shall be destroyed by his confessor, if the + secret of his birth therein contained is divulged before his death. The + secret perhaps was only known—before his arrest—to his + confessors; it came out when he was arrested by the Viceroy as a coiner of + false money. Like de la Cloche, he was pious, though not much turns on + that. If Armanni’s information is correct, if, when taken, the man wrote + to the General of the Jesuits—who knew de la Cloche’s handwriting—we + can scarcely escape the inference that he was de la Cloche. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand is the monstrous will. Unworldly as de la Cloche may + have been, he can hardly have fancied that Wales was the appanage of a + bastard of the Crown; and he certainly knew that ‘the province of + Monmouth’ already gave a title to his younger brother, the duke, born in + 1649. Yet the testator claims Wales or Monmouth for his unborn child. + Again, de la Cloche may not have known who his mother was. But not only + can no Mary, or Mary Henrietta, of the Lennox family be found, except the + impossible Lady Mary who was younger than de la Cloche; but we observe no + trace of the presence of any d’Aubigny, or even of any Stewart, male or + female, at the court of the Prince of Wales in Jersey, in 1646.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *See Hoskins, Charles II. in the Channel islands (Bentley, London, +1854). +</pre> + <p> + The names of the suite are given by Dr. Hoskins from the journal (MS.) of + Chevalier, a Jersey man, and from the Osborne papers. No Stewart or Stuart + occurs, but, in a crowd of some 3,000 refugees, there MAY have been a + young lady of the name. Lady Fanshaw, who was in Jersey, is silent. The + will is absurd throughout, but whether it is all of the dying pretender’s + composition, whether it may not be a thing concocted by an agent of the + Corona family, is another question. + </p> + <p> + It is a mere conjecture, suggested by more than one inquirer, as by Mr. + Steuart, that the words ‘Signora D. Maria Stuardo della famiglia delli + Baroni di S. Marzo,’ refer to the Lennox family, which would naturally be + spoken of as Lennox, or as d’Aubigny. About the marquisate of Juvigny + (which cannot mean the dukedom of d’Aubigny) we have said enough. In + short, the whole will is absurd, and it is all but inconceivable that the + real de la Cloche could have been so ignorant as to compose it. + </p> + <p> + So the matter stands; one of two hypotheses must be correct—the + Naples man was de la Cloche or he was not—yet either hypothesis is + almost impossible.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *I was at first inclined to suppose that the de la Cloche papers in +the Gesu—the letters of Charles II. and the note of the Queen of +Sweden—were forgeries, part of an impostor’s apparatus, seized at +Naples and sent to Oliva for inspection. But the letters—handwriting +and royal seal apart—show too much knowledge of Charles’s secret policy +to have been feigned. We are not told that the certificates of de la +Cloche’s birth were taken from James Stuart in prison, and, even if he +possessed them, as Armanni says he did, he may have stolen them, and +they may have been restored by the Viceroy of Naples, as we said, to the +Jesuits. As to whether Charles II. paid his promised subscription to +the Jesuit building fund, Father Boero says: ‘We possess a royal letter, +proving that it was abundant’ (Boero, Istoria etc., p. 56, note 1), +but he does not print the letter; and Mr. Brady speaks now of extant +documents proving the donation, and now of ‘a traditional belief that +Charles was a benefactor of the Jesuit College.’ +</pre> + <p> + It may be added that, on December 27, 1668, Charles wrote to his sister, + Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans: ‘I assure you that nobody does, nor shall, + know anything of it here’ (of his intended conversion and secret dealings + with France) ‘but my selfe, and that one person more, till it be fitte to + be publique...’ ‘That one person more’ is not elsewhere referred to in + Charles’s known letters to his sister, unless he be ‘he that came last, + and delivered me your letter of the 9th December; he has given me a full + account of what he was charged with, and I am very well pleased with what + he tells me’ (Whitehall, December 14, 1668). + </p> + <p> + This mysterious person, the one sharer of the King’s secret, may be de la + Cloche, if he could have left England by November 18, visited Rome, and + returned to Paris by December 9. If so, de la Cloche may have fulfilled + his mission. Did he return to Italy, and appear in Naples in January or + February 1669? (See Madame, by Julia Cartwright, pp. 274, 275, London, + 1894.) + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. THE TRUTH ABOUT ‘FISHER’S GHOST’ + </h2> + <p> + Everybody has heard about ‘Fisher’s Ghost.’ It is one of the stock ‘yarns’ + of the world, and reappears now and again in magazines, books like ‘The + Night Side of Nature,’ newspapers, and general conversation. As usually + told, the story runs thus: One Fisher, an Australian settler of unknown + date, dwelling not far from Sydney, disappeared. His overseer, like + himself an ex-convict, gave out that Fisher had returned to England, + leaving him as plenipotentiary. One evening a neighbour (one Farley), + returning from market, saw Fisher sitting on the fence of his paddock, + walked up to speak to him, and marked him leave the fence and retreat into + the field, where he was lost to sight. The neighbour reported Fisher’s + return, and, as Fisher could nowhere be found, made a deposition before + magistrates. A native tracker was taken to the fence where the pseudo + Fisher sat, discovered ‘white man’s blood’ on it, detected ‘white man’s + fat’ on the scum of a pool hard by, and, finally, found ‘white man’s body’ + buried in a brake. The overseer was tried, condemned, and hanged after + confession. + </p> + <p> + Such is the yarn: occasionally the ghost of Fisher is said to have been + viewed several times on the fence. + </p> + <p> + Now, if the yarn were true, it would be no proof of a ghost. The person + sitting on the fence might be mistaken for Fisher by a confusion of + identity, or might be a mere subjective hallucination of a sort recognised + even by official science as not uncommon. On the other hand, that such an + illusion should perch exactly on the rail where ‘white man’s blood’ was + later found, would be a very remarkable coincidence. Finally, the story of + the appearance might be explained as an excuse for laying information + against the overseer, already suspected on other grounds. But while this + motive might act among a Celtic population, naturally credulous of ghosts, + and honourably averse to assisting the law (as in Glenclunie in 1749), it + is not a probable motive in an English Crown colony, as Sydney then was. + Nor did the seer inform against anybody. + </p> + <p> + The tale is told in ‘Tegg’s Monthly Magazine’ (Sydney, March 1836); in + ‘Household Words’ for 1853; in Mr. John Lang’s book, ‘Botany Bay’ (about + 1840), where the yarn is much dressed up; and in Mr. Montgomery Martin’s + ‘History of the British Colonies,’ vol. iv. (1835). Nowhere is a date + given, but Mr. Martin says that the events occurred while he was in the + colony. His most intimate surviving friend has often heard him tell the + tale, and discuss it with a legal official, who is said to have been + present at the trial of the overseer.* Other living witnesses have heard + the story from a gentleman who attended the trial. Mr. Martin’s narrative + given as a lowest date, the occurrences were before 1835. Moreover, the + yarn of the ghost was in circulation before that year, and was accepted by + a serious writer on a serious subject. But we have still no date for the + murder. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *So the friend informs me in a letter of November 1896. +</pre> + <p> + That date shall now be given. Frederick Fisher was murdered by George + Worrall, his overseer, at Campbelltown on June 16 (or 17), 1826. After + that date, as Fisher was missing, Worrall told various tales to account + for his absence. The trial of Worrall is reported in the ‘Sydney Gazette’ + of February 5, 1827. Not one word is printed about Fisher’s ghost; but the + reader will observe that there is a lacuna in the evidence exactly where + the ghost, if ghost there were, should have come in. The search for + Fisher’s body starts, it will be seen, from a spot on Fisher’s + paddock-fence, and the witness gives no reason why that spot was + inspected, or rather no account of how, or by whom, sprinkled blood was + detected on the rail. Nobody saw the murder committed. Chief-Justice + Forbes said, in summing up (on February 2, 1827), that the evidence was + purely circumstantial. We are therefore so far left wholly in the dark as + to why the police began their investigations at a rail in a fence. + </p> + <p> + At the trial Mr. D. Cooper deposed to having been owed 80 pounds by + Fisher. After Fisher’s disappearance Cooper frequently spoke to Worrall + about this debt, which Worrall offered to pay if Cooper would give up to + him certain papers (title-deeds) of Fisher’s in his possession. Worrall + even wrote, from Banbury Curran, certifying Cooper of Fisher’s departure + from the colony, which, he said, he was authorised to announce. Cooper + replied that he would wait for his 80 pounds if Fisher were still in the + country. Worrall exhibited uneasiness, but promised to show a written + commission to act for Fisher. This document he never produced, but was + most anxious to get back Fisher’s papers and to pay the 80 pounds. This + arrangement was refused by Cooper. + </p> + <p> + James Coddington deposed that on July 8, 1826, when Fisher had been + missing for three weeks, Worrall tried to sell him a colt, which + Coddington believed to be Fisher’s. Worrall averred that Fisher had left + the country. A few days later Worrall showed Coddington Fisher’s receipt + for the price paid to him by Worrall for the horse. ‘Witness, from having + seen Fisher write, had considerable doubt as to the genuineness of the + receipt.’ + </p> + <p> + James Hamilton swore that in August 1826 he bluntly told Worrall that foul + play was suspected; he ‘turned pale, and endeavoured to force a smile.’ He + merely said that Fisher ‘was on salt water,’ but could not or would not + name his ship. A receipt to Worrall from Fisher was sworn to by Lewis + Solomon as a forgery. + </p> + <p> + Samuel Hopkins, who lived under Fisher’s roof, last saw Fisher on June 17, + 1826 (June 16 may be meant), in the evening. Some other people, including + one Lawrence, were in the house, they left shortly after Fisher went out + that evening, and later remarked on the strangeness of his not returning. + Nathaniel Cole gave evidence to the same effect. Fisher, in short, + strolled out on June 17 (16?), 1826, and was seen no more in the body. + </p> + <p> + Robert Burke, of Campbelltown, constable, deposed to having apprehended + Worrall. We may now give in full the evidence as to the search for + Fisher’s body on October 20, 1826. + </p> + <p> + Here let us first remark that Fisher’s body was not easily found. A reward + for its discovery was offered by Government on September 27, 1826, when + Fisher had been dead for three months, and this may have stimulated all + that was immortal of Fisher to perch on his own paddock-rail, and so draw + attention to the position of his body. But on this point we have no + information, and we proceed to real evidence. From this it appears that + though a reward was offered on September 27, the local magistrates (to + whom the ghost-seer went, in the yarn) did not bid their constable make + SPECIAL researches till October 20, apparently after the seer told his + tale. + </p> + <p> + ‘George Leonard, a constable at Campbelltown, stated that by order of the + bench of the magistrates he commenced a search for the body of the + deceased on the 20th of October last: witness WENT TO A PLACE WHERE SOME + BLOOD WAS SAID TO HAVE BEEN DISCOVERED, and saw traces of it on several + rails of a fence at the corner of the deceased’s paddock adjoining the + fence of Mr. Bradbury, and about fifty rods from prisoner’s house: witness + proceeded to search with an iron rod over the ground, when two black + natives came up and joined in the search till they came to a creek where + one of them saw something on the water: a man named Gilbert, a black + native, went into the water, and scumming some of the top with a leaf, + which he afterwards tasted, called out that “there was the fat of a white + man” [of which he was clearly an amateur]: they then proceeded to another + creek about forty or fifty yards farther up, STILL LED BY THE NATIVES, + when one of them struck the rod into some marshy ground and called out + that “there was something there:” a spade was immediately found, and the + place dug, when the first thing that presented itself was the left hand of + a man lying on his side, which witness, from a long acquaintance with him, + immediately declared to be the hand of Frederick Fisher: the body was + decayed a little, particularly the under-jaw: witness immediately informed + Mr. William Howe and the Rev. Mr. Reddall, and obtained a warrant to + apprehend the parties who were supposed to be concerned in the murder; the + coroner was sent for, and, the body being taken out of the earth the next + morning, several fractures were found in the head: an inquest was held, + and a verdict of wilful murder against some person or persons unknown was + returned: witness particularly examined the fence: there appeared to have + been a fire made under the lower rail, as if to burn out the mark: the + blood seemed as if it were sprinkled over the rails.... + </p> + <p> + ‘The declaration of the prisoner’ (Worrall) ‘was put in and read: it + stated that, on the evening of the 17th of June, a man named Lawrence got + some money from the deceased, and together with four others went to a + neighbouring public-house to drink: that after some time they returned, + and the prisoner being then outside the house, and not seen by the others, + he saw two of them enter, whilst the other two, one of whom was Lawrence, + remained at the door: the prisoner then went down to the bottom of the + yard, and after a little time heard a scuffle, and saw Lawrence and the + others drag something along the yard, which they struck several times. The + prisoner then came forward, and called out to know who it was. One of them + replied, “It is a dog.” The prisoner coming up said, “It is Fisher, and + you have prevented him from crying out any more.” They said they had + murdered him in order to possess themselves of what money he had, and + bound the prisoner by a solemn pledge not to reveal it. + </p> + <p> + ‘For the prisoner Nathaniel Boom deposed: he knew deceased, and intended + to institute a prosecution against him for forgery when he disappeared. + </p> + <p> + ‘Chief-justice summed up: observed it was a case entirely of + circumstances. The jury were first to consider if identity of body with + Fisher was satisfactorily established. If not: no case. If so: they would + then consider testimony as affecting prisoner. Impossible, though wholly + circumstantial, for evidence to be stronger. He offered no opinion, but + left case to jury. + </p> + <p> + ‘The jury returned a verdict of guilty. Sentence of death passed.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘February 6, 1827. Sydney Gazette. +</pre> + <p> + ‘George Worrall, convicted on Friday last of murder of F. Fisher, + yesterday suffered the last penalty of the law. Till about 5 o’clock on + the morning of his execution, he persisted in asserting his innocence, + when he was induced to confess to a gentleman who had sat up with him + during the night, that he alone had perpetrated the murder, but positively + affirmed it was not his intention at the time to do so.’ + </p> + <p> + We need not follow Worrall’s attempts to explain away the crime as an + accident. He admitted that ‘he had intended to hang Lawrence and Cole.’ + </p> + <p> + It is a curious case. WHY WAS NOBODY INTERROGATED ABOUT THE DISCOVERY, ON + THE RAIL, OF BLOOD THREE MONTHS OLD, if not four months? What was the + apparent date of the fire under the rail? How did the ghost-story get into + circulation, and reach Mr. Montgomery Martin (1835)? + </p> + <p> + To suggest a solution of these problems, we have a precisely analogous + case in England. + </p> + <p> + On October 25, 1828, one William Edden, a market-gardener, did not come + home at night. His wife rushed into the neighbouring village, announcing + that she had seen her husband’s ghost; that he had a hammer, or some such + instrument, in his hand; that she knew he had been hammered to death on + the road by a man whose name she gave, one Tyler. Her husband was found on + the road, between Aylesbury and Thame, killed by blows of a blunt + instrument, and the wife in vain repeatedly invited the man, Joseph Tyler, + to come and see the corpse. Probably she believed that it would bleed in + his presence, in accordance with the old superstition. All this the poor + woman stated on oath at an inquiry before the magistrates, reported in the + Buckinghamshire county paper of August 29, 1829. + </p> + <p> + Here is her evidence, given at Aylesbury Petty Sessions, August 22, before + Lord Nugent, Sir J. D. King, R. Brown, Esq., and others: + </p> + <p> + ‘“After my husband’s corpse was brought home, I sent to Tyler, for some + reasons I had, to come and see the corpse. I sent for him five or six + times. I had some particular reason for sending for him which I never did + divulge.... I will tell my reasons if you gentlemen ask me, in the face of + Tyler, even if my life should be in danger for it. When I was ironing a + shirt, on the Saturday night my husband was murdered, something came over + me—something rushed over me—and I thought my husband came by + me. I looked up, and I thought I heard the voice of my husband come from + near my mahogany table, as I turned from my ironing. I ran out and said, + ‘Oh dear God! my husband is murdered, and his ribs are broken.’ I told + this to several of my neighbours. Mrs. Chester was the first to whom I + told it. I mentioned it also at the Saracen’s Head.” + </p> + <p> + ‘Sir J. D. King.—“Have you any objection to say why you thought your + husband had been murdered?” + </p> + <p> + ‘“No! I thought I saw my husband’s apparition and the man that had done + it, and that man was Tyler, and that was the reason I sent for him.... + When my neighbours asked me what was the matter when I ran out, I told + them that I had seen my husband’s apparition.... When I mentioned it to + Mrs. Chester, I said: ‘My husband is murdered, and his ribs are broken; I + have seen him by the mahogany table.’ I did not tell her who did it.... I + was always frightened, since my husband had been stopped on the road.” + (The deceased Edden had once before been waylaid, but was then too + powerful for his assailants.) “In consequence of what I saw, I went in + search of my husband, until I was taken so ill I could go no further.” + </p> + <p> + ‘Lord Nugent.—“What made you think your husband’s ribs were broken?” + </p> + <p> + ‘“He held up his hand like this” (holds up her arm), “and I saw a hammer, + or something like a hammer, and it came into my mind that his ribs were + broken.” + </p> + <p> + ‘Sewell stated that the murder was accomplished by means of a hammer. The + examination was continued on August 31 and September 13; and finally both + prisoners were discharged for want of sufficient evidence. Sewell declared + that he had only been a looker-on, and his accusations against Tyler were + so full of prevarications that they were not held sufficient to + incriminate him. The inquiry was again resumed on February 11, 1830, and + Sewell, Tyler, and a man named Gardner were committed for trial. + </p> + <p> + ‘The trial (see “Buckingham Gazette,” March 13, 1830) took place before + Mr. Baron Vaughan and a grand jury at the Buckingham Lent Assizes, March + 5, 1830; BUT IN THE REPORT OF MRS. EDDEN’S EVIDENCE NO MENTION IS MADE OF + THE VISION. + </p> + <p> + ‘Sewell and Tyler were found guilty, and were executed, protesting their + innocence, on March 8, 1830. + </p> + <p> + ‘Miss Browne, writing to us [Mr. Gurney] from Farnham Castle, in January + 1884, gives an account of the vision which substantially accords with that + here recorded, adding:—‘"The wife persisted in her account of the + vision; consequently the accused was taken up, and, with some + circumstantial evidence in addition to the woman’s story, committed for + trial by two magistrates—my father, Colonel Robert Browne, and the + Rev. Charles Ackfield.” + </p> + <p> + ‘“The murderer was convicted at the assizes, and hanged at Aylesbury.” + </p> + <p> + ‘“It may be added that Colonel Browne was remarkably free from + superstition, and was a thorough disbeliever in ‘ghost stories.’”’ * + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *From Phantasms of the Living, Gurney and Myers, vol. ii. p. 586. +</pre> + <p> + Now, in the report of the trial at assizes in 1830 there is not one word + about the ‘ghost,’ though he is conspicuous in the hearing at petty + sessions. The parallel to Fisher’s case is thus complete. And the reason + for omitting the ghost in a trial is obvious. The murderers of Sergeant + Davies of Guise’s, slain in the autumn of 1749 in Glenclunie, were + acquitted by an Edinburgh jury in 1753 in face of overpowering evidence of + their guilt, partly because two Highland witnesses deposed to having seen + the ghost of the sergeant, partly because the jury were Jacobites. The + prisoners’ counsel, as one of them told Sir Walter Scott, knew that their + clients were guilty. A witness had seen them in the act. But the advocate + (Lockhart, a Jacobite) made such fun out of the ghost that an Edinburgh + jury, disbelieving in the spectre, and not loving the House of Hanover, + very logically disregarded also the crushing evidence for a crime which + was actually described in court by an eye-witness. + </p> + <p> + Thus, to secure a view of the original form of the yarn of Fisher’s Ghost, + what we need is what we are not likely to get—namely, a copy of the + depositions made before the bench of magistrates at Campbelltown in + October 1826. + </p> + <p> + For my own part, I think it highly probable that the story of Fisher’s + Ghost was told before the magistrates, as in the Buckinghamshire case, and + was suppressed in the trial at Sydney. + </p> + <p> + Worrall’s condemnation is said to have excited popular discontent, as + condemnations on purely circumstantial evidence usually do. That + dissatisfaction would be increased if a ghost were publicly implicated in + the matter, just as in the case of Davies’s murder in 1749. We see how + discreetly the wraith or ghost was kept out of the Buckinghamshire case at + the trial, and we see why, in Worrall’s affair, no questions were asked as + to the discovery of sprinkled blood, not proved by analysis to be human, + on the rail where Fisher’s ghost was said to perch. + </p> + <p> + I had concluded my inquiry here, when I received a letter in which Mr. + Rusden kindly referred me to his ‘History of Australia’ (vol. ii. pp. 44, + 45). Mr. Rusden there gives a summary of the story, in agreement with that + taken from the Sydney newspaper. He has ‘corrected current rumours by + comparison with the words of a trustworthy informant, a medical man, who + lived long in the neighbourhood, and attended Farley [the man who saw + Fisher’s ghost] on his death-bed. He often conversed with Farley on the + subject of the vision which scared him.... These facts are compiled from + the notes of Chief-Justice Forbes, who presided at the trial, with the + exception of the references to the apparition, which, although it led to + the discovery of Fisher’s body, could not be alluded to in a court of + justice, or be adduced as evidence.‘* There is no justice for ghosts. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Thanks to the kindness of the Countess of Jersey, and the obliging +researches of the Chief Justice of New South Wales, I have received +a transcript of the judge’s notes. They are correctly analysed by Mr. +Rusden. +</pre> + <p> + An Australian correspondent adds another example. Long after Fisher’s + case, this gentleman was himself present at a trial in Maitland, New South + Wales. A servant-girl had dreamed that a missing man told her who had + killed him, and where his body was concealed. She, being terrified, wanted + to leave the house, but her mistress made her impart the story to the + chief constable, a man known to my informant, who also knew, and names, + the judge who tried the case. The constable excavated at the spot pointed + out in the dream, unearthed the body, and arrested the criminal, who was + found guilty, confessed, and was hanged. Not a word was allowed to be said + in court about the dream. All the chief constable was permitted to say + was, that ‘from information received’ he went to Hayes’s farm, and so + forth. + </p> + <p> + Here, then, are two parallels to Fisher’s ghost, and very hard on + psychical science it is that ghostly evidence should be deliberately + burked through the prejudices of lawyers. Mr. Suttar, in his ‘Australian + Stories Retold’ (Bathurst, 1887), remarks that the ghost is not a late + mythical accretion in Fisher’s story. ‘I have the authority of a gentleman + who was intimately connected with the gentleman who had the charge of the + police when the murder was done, that Farley’s story did suggest the + search for the body in the creek.’ But Mr. Suttar thinks that Farley + invented the tale as an excuse for laying information. That might apply, + as has been said, to Highland witnesses in 1753, but hardly to an + Englishman in Australia. Besides, if Farley knew the facts, and had the + ghost to cover the guilt of peaching, WHY DID HE NOT PEACH? He only + pointed to a fence, and, but for the ingenious black Sherlock Holmes, the + body would never have been found. What Farley did was not what a man would + do who, knowing the facts of the crime, and lured by a reward of 20 + pounds, wished to play the informer under cover of a ghost-story. + </p> + <p> + The case for the ghost, then, stands thus, in my opinion. Despite the + silence preserved at the trial, Farley’s ghost-story was really told + before the discovery of Fisher’s body, and led to the finding of the body. + Despite Mr. Suttar’s theory (of information laid under shelter of a + ghost-story), Farley really had experienced an hallucination. Mr. Rusden, + who knew his doctor, speaks of his fright, and, according to the version + of 1836, he was terrified into an illness. Now, the hallucination + indicated the exact spot where Fisher was stricken down, and left traces + of his blood, which no evidence shows to have been previously noticed. Was + it, then, a fortuitous coincidence that Farley should be casually + hallucinated exactly at the one spot—the rail in the fence—where + Fisher had been knocked on the head? That is the question, and the state + of the odds may be reckoned by the mathematician. + </p> + <p> + As to the Australian servant-girl’s dream about the place where another + murdered body lay, and the dreams which led to the discovery of the Red + Barn and Assynt murders, and (May 1903) to the finding of the corpse of a + drowned girl at Shanklin, all these may be mere guesses by the sleeping + self, which is very clever at discovering lost objects. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. THE MYSTERY OF LORD BATEMAN + </h2> + <p> + Ever and again, in the literary and antiquarian papers, there flickers up + debate as to the Mystery of Lord Bateman. This problem in no way concerns + the existing baronial house of Bateman, which, in Burke, records no + predecessor before a knight and lord mayor of 1717. Our Bateman comes of + lordlier and more ancient lineage. The question really concerns ‘The + Loving Ballad of Lord Bateman. Illustrated by George Cruikshank, London: + Charles Tilt, Fleet Street. And Mustapha Syried, Constantinople. + MDCCCXXXIX.’ + </p> + <p> + The tiny little volume in green cloth, with a design of Lord Bateman’s + marriage ceremony, stamped in gold, opens with a ‘Warning to the Public, + concerning the Loving Ballad of Lord Bateman.’ The Warning is signed + George Cruikshank, who, however, adds in a postscript: ‘The above is not + my writing.’ The ballad follows, and then comes a set of notes, mainly + critical. The author of the Warning remarks: ‘In some collection of old + English Ballads there is an ancient ditty, which, I am told, bears some + remote and distant resemblance to the following Epic Poem.’ + </p> + <p> + Again, the text of the ballad, here styled ‘The Famous History of Lord + Bateman,’ with illustrations by Thackeray, ‘plain’ (the original designs + were coloured), occurs in the Thirteenth Volume of the Biographical + Edition of Thackeray’s works. (pp. lvi-lxi). + </p> + <p> + The problems debated are: ‘Who wrote the Loving Ballad of Lord Bateman, + and who wrote the Notes?’ The disputants have not shown much acquaintance + with ballad lore in general. + </p> + <p> + First let us consider Mr. Thackeray’s text of the ballad. It is closely + affiliated to the text of ‘The Loving Ballad of Lord Bateman,’ whereof the + earliest edition with Cruikshank’s illustrations was published in 1839.* + The edition here used is that of David Bryce and Son, Glasgow (no date). + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *There are undated cheap broadside copies, not illustrated, in the +British Museum. +</pre> + <p> + Mr. Blanchard Jerrold, in his ‘Life of Cruikshank,’ tells us that the + artist sang this ‘old English ballad’ at a dinner where Dickens and + Thackeray were present. Mr. Thackeray remarked: ‘I should like to print + that ballad with illustrations,’ but Cruikshank ‘warned him off,’ as he + intended to do the thing himself. Dickens furnished the learned notes. + This account of what occurred was given by Mr. Walter Hamilton, but Mr. + Sala furnished another version. The ‘authorship of the ballad,’ Mr. Sala + justly observed, ‘is involved in mystery.’ Cruikshank picked it up from + the recitation of a minstrel outside a pot-house. In Mr. Sala’s opinion, + Mr. Thackeray ‘revised and settled the words, and made them fit for + publication.’ Nor did he confine himself to the mere critical work; he + added, in Mr. Sala’s opinion, that admired passage about ‘The young + bride’s mother, who never before was heard to speak so free,’ also + contributing ‘The Proud Young Porter,’ Jeames. Now, in fact, both the + interpellation of the bride’s mamma, and the person and characteristics of + the proud young porter, are of unknown antiquity, and are not due to Mr. + Thackeray—a scholar too conscientious to ‘decorate’ an ancient text. + Bishop Percy did such things, and Scott is not beyond suspicion; but Mr. + Thackeray, like Joseph Ritson, preferred the authentic voice of tradition. + Thus, in the text of the Biographical Edition, he does not imitate the + Cockney twang, phonetically rendered in the version of Cruikshank. The + second verse, for example, runs thus: + </p> + <p> + Cruikshank: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + He sail-ed east, he sail-ed vest, + Until he came to famed Tur-key, + Vere he vos taken and put to prisin, + Until his life was quite wea-ry. +</pre> + <p> + Thackeray: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + He sailed East, and he sailed West, + Until he came to proud Turkey, + Where he was taken and put to prison, + Until his life was almost weary. +</pre> + <p> + There are discrepancies in the arrangement of the verses, and a most + important various reading. + </p> + <p> + Cruikshank: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Now sevin long years is gone and past, + And fourteen days vell known to me; + She packed up all her gay clouthing, + And swore Lord Bateman she would go see. +</pre> + <p> + To this verse, in Cruikshank’s book, a note (not by Cruikshank) is added: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘“Now sevin long years is gone and past, + And fourteen days well known to me.”’ +</pre> + <p> + In this may be recognised, though in a minor degree, the same gifted hand + that portrayed the Mussulman, the pirate, the father, and the bigot, in + two words (“This Turk”). + </p> + <p> + ‘“The time is gone, the historian knows it, and that is enough for the + reader. This is the dignity of history very strikingly exemplified.”’ + </p> + <p> + That note to Cruikshank’s text is, like all the delightful notes, if style + is evidence, not by Dickens, but by Thackeray. Yet, in his own text, with + an exemplary fidelity, he reads: ‘And fourteen days well known to THEE.’ + To whom? We are left in ignorance; and conjecture, though tempting, is + unsafe. The reading of Cruikshank, ‘vell known to ME’—that is, to + the poet—is confirmed by the hitherto unprinted ‘Lord Bedmin.’ This + version, collected by Miss Wyatt Edgell in 1899, as recited by a blind old + woman in a workhouse, who had learned it in her youth, now lies before the + present writer. He owes this invaluable document to the kindness of Miss + Wyatt Edgell and Lady Rosalind Northcote. Invaluable it is, because it + proves that Lord Bateman (or Bedmin) is really a volkslied, a popular and + current version of the ancient ballad. ‘Famed Turkey’ becomes ‘Torquay’ in + this text, probably by a misapprehension on the part of the collector or + reciter. The speech of the bride’s mother is here omitted, though it + occurs in older texts; but, on the whole, the blind old woman’s memory has + proved itself excellent. In one place she gives Thackeray’s reading in + preference to that of Cruikshank, thus: + </p> + <p> + Cruikshank: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Ven he vent down on his bended knee. +</pre> + <p> + Thackeray: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Down on his bended knees fell he. +</pre> + <p> + Old Woman: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Down on his bended knee fell he. +</pre> + <p> + We have now ascertained the following facts: Cruikshank and Thackeray used + a text with merely verbal differences, which was popular among the least + educated classes early in last century. Again, Thackeray contributed the + notes and critical apparatus to Cruikshank’s version. For this the + internal evidence of style is overpowering: no other man wrote in the + manner and with the peculiar humour of Mr. Titmarsh. In the humble opinion + of the present writer these Notes ought to be appended to Mr. Thackeray’s + version of ‘Lord Bateman.’ Finally, Mr. Sala was wrong in supposing that + Mr. Thackeray took liberties with the text received from oral tradition. + </p> + <p> + What was the origin of that text? Professor Child, in the second part of + his ‘English and Scottish Popular Ballads’ * lays before us the learning + about Lord Bateman, Lord Bedmin, Young Bicham, Young Brechin, Young Bekie, + Young Beichan and Susie Pie (the heroine, Sophia, in Thackeray), Lord + Beichan, Young Bondwell, and Markgraf Backenweil; for by all these names + is Lord Bateman known. The student must carefully note that ‘Thackeray’s + List of Broadsides,’ cited, is NOT by Mr. W. M. Thackeray. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pt. ii. p. 454 et seq., and in various other places. +</pre> + <p> + As the reader may not remember the incidents in the Thackeray, Cruikshank, + and Old Woman version (which represents an ancient ballad, now not so much + popularised as vulgarised), a summary may be given. Lord Bateman went + wandering: ‘his character, at this time, and his expedition, would seem to + have borne a striking resemblance to those of Lord Byron.... SOME foreign + country he wished to see, and that was the extent of his desire; any + foreign country would answer his purpose—all foreign countries were + alike to him.’—(Note, apud Cruikshank.) Arriving in Turkey (or + Torquay) he was taken and fastened to a tree by his captor. He was + furtively released by the daughter of ‘This Turk.’ ‘The poet has here, by + that bold license which only genius can venture upon, surmounted the + extreme difficulty of introducing any particular Turk, by assuming a + foregone conclusion in the reader’s mind; and adverting, in a casual, + careless way, to a Turk hitherto unknown as to an old acquaintance.... + “THIS Turk he had” is a master-stroke, a truly Shakespearian touch’—(Note.) + The lady, in her father’s cellar (‘Castle,’ Old Woman’s text), consoles + the captive with ‘the very best wine,’ secretly stored, for his private + enjoyment, by the cruel and hypocritical Mussulman. She confesses the + state of her heart, and inquires as to Lord Bateman’s real property, which + is ‘half Northumberland.’ To what period in the complicated mediaeval + history of the earldom of Northumberland the affair belongs is uncertain. + </p> + <p> + The pair vow to be celibate for seven years, and Lord Bateman escapes. At + the end of the period, Sophia sets out for Northumberland, urged, perhaps, + by some telepathic admonition. For, on arriving at Lord Bateman’s palace + (Alnwick Castle?), she summons the proud porter, announces herself, and + finds that her lover has just celebrated a marriage with another lady. In + spite of the remonstrances of the bride’s mamma, Lord Bateman restores + that young lady to her family, observing + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + She is neither the better nor the worse for me. +</pre> + <p> + So Thackeray and Old Woman. Cruikshank prudishly reads, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + O you’ll see what I’ll do for you and she. +</pre> + <p> + ‘Lord Bateman then prepared another marriage, having plenty of superfluous + wealth to bestow upon the Church.’—(Note.) All the rest was bliss. + </p> + <p> + The reader may ask: How did Sophia know anything about the obscure + Christian captive? WHY did she leave home exactly in time for his + marriage? How came Lord Bateman to be so fickle? The Annotator replies: + ‘His lordship had doubtless been impelled by despair of ever recovering + his lost Sophia, and a natural anxiety not to die without leaving an heir + to his estate.’ Finally how was the difficulty of Sophia’s religion + overcome? + </p> + <p> + To all these questions the Cockney version gives no replies, but the older + forms of the ballad offer sufficient though varying answers, as we shall + see. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile one thing is plain from this analysis of the pot-house version + of an old ballad, namely, that the story is constructed out of fragments + from the great universal store of popular romance. The central ideas are + two: first, the situation of a young man in the hands of a cruel captor + (often a god, a giant, a witch, a fiend), but here—a Turk. The youth + is loved and released (commonly through magic spells) by the daughter of + the gaoler, god, giant, witch, Turk, or what not. In Greece, Jason is the + Lord Bateman, Medea is the Sophia, of the tale, which was known to Homer + and Hesiod, and was fully narrated by Pindar. THE OTHER YOUNG PERSON, the + second bride, however, comes in differently, in the Greek. In far-off + Samoa, a god is the captor.* The gaoler is a magician in Red Indian + versions.** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Turner’s ‘Samoa,’ p. 102. + + **For a list, though an imperfect one, of the Captor’s Daughter story, +see the Author’s Custom and Myth, pp. 86-102. +</pre> + <p> + As a rule, in these tales, from Finland to Japan, from Samoa to + Madagascar, Greece and India, the girl accompanies her lover in his + flight, delaying the pursuer by her magic. In ‘Lord Bateman’ another + formula, almost as widely diffused, is preferred. + </p> + <p> + The old true love comes back just after her lover’s wedding. He returns to + her. Now, as a rule, in popular tales, the lover’s fickleness is explained + by a spell or by a breach of a taboo. The old true love has great + difficulty in getting access to him, and in waking him from a sleep, + drugged or magical. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The bloody shirt I wrang for thee, + The Hill o’ Glass I clamb for thee, + And wilt thou no waken and speak to me? +</pre> + <p> + He wakens at last, and all is well. In a Romaic ballad the deserted girl, + meeting her love on his wedding-day, merely reminds him of old kindness. + He answers— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Now he that will may scatter nuts, + And he may wed that will, + But she that was my old true love + Shall be my true love still. +</pre> + <p> + This incident, the strange, often magically caused oblivion of the lover, + whose love returns to him, like Sophia, at, or after, his marriage, is + found in popular tales of Scotland, Norway, Iceland, Germany, Italy, + Greece, and the Gaelic Western Islands. It does not occur in ‘Lord + Bateman,’ where Mr. Thackeray suggests probable reasons for Lord Bateman’s + fickleness. But the world-wide incidents are found in older versions of + ‘Lord Bateman,’ from which they have been expelled by the English genius + for the commonplace. + </p> + <p> + Thus, if we ask, how did Sophia at first know of Bateman’s existence? The + lovely and delicate daughter of the Turk, doubtless, was unaware that, in + the crowded dungeons of her sire, one captive of wealth, noble birth, and + personal fascination, was languishing. The Annotator explains: ‘She hears + from an aged and garrulous attendant, her only female adviser (for her + mother died while she was yet an infant), of the sorrows and sufferings of + the Christian captive.’ In ancient versions of the ballad another + explanation occurs. She overhears a song which he sings about his unlucky + condition. This account is in Young Bekie (Scottish: mark the name, + Bekie), where France is the scene and the king’s daughter is the lady. The + same formula of the song sung by the prisoner is usual. Not uncommon, too, + is a TOKEN carried by Sophia when she pursues her lost adorer, to insure + her recognition. It is half of her broken ring. Once more, why does Sophia + leave home to find Bateman in the very nick of time? Thackeray’s version + does not tell us; but Scottish versions do. ‘She longed fu’ sair her love + to see.’ Elsewhere a supernatural being, ‘The Billy Blin,’ or a fairy, + clad in green, gives her warning. The fickleness of the hero is caused, + sometimes, by constraint, another noble ‘has his marriage,’ as his feudal + superior, and makes him marry, but only in form. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + There is a marriage in yonder hall, + Has lasted thirty days and three, + The bridegroom winna bed the bride, + For the sake o’ one that’s owre the sea. +</pre> + <p> + In this Scottish version, by the way, occurs— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Up spoke the young bride’s mother, + Who never was heard to speak so free, +</pre> + <p> + wrongly attributed to Mr. Thackeray’s own pen. + </p> + <p> + The incident of the magical oblivion which comes over the bridegroom + occurs in Scandinavian versions of ‘Lord Bateman’ from manuscripts of the + sixteenth century.* Finally, the religious difficulty in several Scottish + versions is got over by the conversion and baptism of Sophia, who had + professed the creed of Islam. That all these problems in ‘Lord Bateman’ + are left unsolved is, then, the result of decay. The modern vulgar English + version of the pot-house minstrel (known as ‘The Tripe Skewer,’ according + to the author of the Introduction to Cruikshank’s version) has forgotten, + has been heedless of, and has dropped the ancient universal elements of + folk-tale and folk-song. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Child, ii. 459-461. +</pre> + <p> + These graces, it is true, are not too conspicuous even in the oldest and + best versions of ‘Lord Bateman.’ Choosing at random, however, we find a + Scots version open thus: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + In the lands where Lord Beichan was born, + Among the stately steps o’ stane, + He wore the goud at his left shoulder, + But to the Holy Land he’s gane. +</pre> + <p> + That is not in the tone of the ditty sung by the Tripe Skewer. Again, in + his prison, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + He made na his moan to a stock, + He made na it to a stone, + But it was to the Queen of Heaven + That he made his moan. +</pre> + <p> + The lines are from a version of the North of Scotland, and, on the face of + it, are older than the extirpation of the Catholic faith in the loyal + North. The reference to Holy Land preserves a touch of the crusading age. + In short, poor as they may be, the Scottish versions are those of a people + not yet wholly vulgarised, not yet lost to romance. The singers have ‘half + remembered and half forgot’ the legend of Gilbert Becket (Bekie, Beichan), + the father of St. Thomas of Canterbury. Gilbert, in the legend, went to + Holy Land, was cast into a Saracen’s prison, and won his daughter’s heart. + He escaped, but the lady followed him, like Sophia, and, like Sophia, + found and wedded him; Gilbert’s servant, Richard, playing the part of the + proud young porter. Yet, as Professor Child justly observes, the ballad + ‘is not derived from the legend,’ though the legend as to Gilbert Becket + exists in a manuscript of about 1300. The Bateman motive is older than + Gilbert Becket, and has been attached to later versions of the adventures + of that hero. Gilbert Becket about 1300 was credited with a floating, + popular tale of the Bateman sort, and out of his legend, thus altered, the + existing ballads drew their ‘Bekie’ and ‘Beichan,’ from the name of + Becket. + </p> + <p> + The process is: First, the popular tale of the return of the old true + love; that tale is found in Greece, Scandinavia, Denmark, Iceland, Faroe, + Spain, Germany, and so forth. Next, about 1300 Gilbert Becket is made the + hero of the tale. Next, our surviving ballads retain a trace or two of the + Becket form, but they are not derived from the Becket form. The fancy of + the folk first evolved the situations in the story, then lent them to + written literature (Becket’s legend, 1300), and thirdly, received the + story back from written legend with a slight, comparatively modern + colouring. + </p> + <p> + In the dispute as to the origin of our ballads one school, as Mr. T. F. + Henderson and Professor Courthope, regard them as debris of old literary + romances, ill-remembered work of professional minstrels.* That there are + ballads of this kind in England, such as the Arthurian ballads, I do not + deny. But in my opinion many ballads and popular tales are in origin older + than the mediaeval romances, as a rule. As a rule the romances are based + on earlier popular data, just as the ‘Odyssey’ is an artistic whole made + up out of popular tales. The folk may receive back a literary form of its + own ballad or story, but more frequently the popular ballad comes down in + oral tradition side by side with its educated child, the literary romance + on the same theme. + </p> + <p> + Cf. The Queen’s Marie. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Henderson has answered that the people is unpoetical. The degraded + populace of the slums may be unpoetical, like the minstrel named ‘Tripe + Skewer,’ and may deprave the ballads of its undegraded ancestry into such + modern English forms as ‘Lord Bateman.’ But I think of the people which, + in Barbour’s day, had its choirs of peasant girls chanting rural snatches + on Bruce’s victories, or, in still earlier France, of Roland’s overthrow. + If THEIR songs are attributed to professional minstrels, I turn to the + Greece of 1830, to the Finland of to-day, to the outermost Hebrides of + to-day, to the Arapahoes of Northern America, to the Australian blacks, + among all of whom the people are their own poets and make their own + dirges, lullabies, chants of victory, and laments for defeat. THESE + peoples are not unpoetical. In fact, when I say that the people has been + its own poet I do not mean the people which goes to music halls and reads + halfpenny newspapers. To the true folk we owe the legend of Lord Bateman + in its ancient germs; and to the folk’s degraded modern estate, crowded as + men are in noisome streets and crushed by labour, we owe the Cockney + depravation, the Lord Bateman of Cruikshank and Thackeray. Even that, I + presume, being old, is now forgotten, except by the ancient blind woman in + the workhouse. To the workhouse has come the native popular culture—the + last lingering shadow of old romance. That is the moral of the ballad of + Lord Bateman. + </p> + <p> + In an article by Mr. Kitton, in Literature (June 24, 1899, p. 699), this + learned Dickensite says: ‘The authorship of this version’ (Cruikshank’s) + ‘of an ancient ballad and of the accompanying notes has given rise to much + controversy, and whether Dickens or Thackeray was responsible for them is + still a matter of conjecture, although what little evidence there is seems + to favour Thackeray.’ + </p> + <p> + For the ballad neither Thackeray nor Dickens is responsible. The Old + Woman’s text settles that question: the ballad is a degraded Volkslied. As + to the notes, internal evidence for once is explicit. The notes are + Thackeray’s. Any one who doubts has only to compare Thackeray’s notes to + his prize poem on ‘Timbuctoo.’ + </p> + <p> + The banter, in the notes, is academic banter, that of a university man, + who is mocking the notes of learned editors. This humour is not the humour + of Dickens, who, however, may very well have written the Introduction to + Cruikshank’s version. That morceau is in quite a different taste and + style. I ought, in fairness, to add the following note from Mr. J. B. + Keene, which may be thought to overthrow belief in Thackeray’s authorship + of the notes:— + </p> + <p> + Dear Sir,—Your paper in the ‘Cornhill’ for this month on the Mystery + of Lord Bateman interested me greatly, but I must beg to differ from you + as to the authorship of the Notes, and for this reason. + </p> + <p> + I have before me a copy of the first edition of the ‘Loving Ballad’ which + was bought by my father soon after it was issued. At that time—somewhere + about 1840—there was a frequent visitor at our house, named Burnett, + who had married a sister of Charles Dickens, and who gave us the story of + its production. + </p> + <p> + He said, as you state, that Cruikshank had got the words from a pot-house + singer, but the locality he named was Whitechapel,* where he was looking + out for characters. He added that Cruikshank sung or hummed the tune to + him, and he gave it the musical notation which follows the preface. He + also said that Charles Dickens wrote the notes. His personal connection + with the work and his relation to Dickens are, I think, fair evidence on + the question. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +I am, dear Sir, Yours truly, + J. B. KEENE. +</pre> + <p> + Kingsmead House, 1 Hartham Road, Camden Road, N., Feb. 13,1900. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Keene’s evidence may, perhaps, settle the question. But, if Dickens + wrote the Introduction, that might be confused in Mr. Burnett’s memory + with the Notes, from internal evidence the work of Thackeray. If not, then + in the Notes we find a new aspect of the inexhaustible humour of Dickens. + It is certain, at all events, that neither Dickens nor Thackeray was the + author of the ‘Loving Ballad.’ + </p> + <p> + P.S.—The preface to the ballad says Battle Bridge. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. THE QUEEN’S MARIE + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Little did my mother think + That day she cradled me + What land I was to travel in, + Or what death I should die. +</pre> + <p> + Writing to Mrs. Dunlop on January 25, 1790, Burns quoted these lines, ‘in + an old Scottish ballad, which, notwithstanding its rude simplicity, speaks + feelingly to the heart.’ Mr. Carlyle is said, when young, to have written + them on a pane of glass in a window, with a diamond, adding, + characteristically, ‘Oh foolish Thee!’ In 1802, in the first edition of + ‘The Border Minstrelsy,’ Scott cited only three stanzas from the same + ballad, not including Burns’s verse, but giving + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Yestreen the Queen had four Maries, + The night she’ll hae but three, + There was Marie Seaton, and Marie Beaton, + And Marie Carmichael and me. +</pre> + <p> + In later editions Sir Walter offered a made-up copy of the ballad, most of + it from a version collected by Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe. + </p> + <p> + It now appeared that Mary Hamilton was the heroine, that she was one of + Queen Marie’s four Maries, and that she was hanged for murdering a child + whom she bore to Darnley. Thus the character of Mary Hamilton was ‘totally + lost,’ and Darnley certainly ‘had not sufficient for two.’ Darnley, to be + sure, told his father that ‘I never offended the Queen, my wife, in + meddling with any woman in thought, let be in deed,’ and, whether Darnley + spoke truth or not, there was, among the Queen’s Maries, no Mary Hamilton + to meddle with, just as there was no Mary Carmichael. + </p> + <p> + The Maries were attendant on the Queen as children ever since she left + Scotland for France. They were Mary Livingstone (mentioned as ‘Lady + Livinston’ in one version of the ballad),* who married ‘John Sempill, + called the Dancer,’ who, says Laing, ‘acquired the lands of Beltree, in + Renfrewshire.‘** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Child, vol. iii. p. 389. + + **Laing’s Knox, ii. 415, note 3. +</pre> + <p> + When Queen Mary was a captive in England she was at odds with the Sempill + pair about some jewels of hers in their custody. He was not a satisfactory + character, he died before November 1581. Mary Fleming, early in 1587, + married the famous William Maitland of Lethington, ‘being no more fit for + her than I to be a page,’ says Kirkcaldy of Grange. Her life was wretched + enough, through the stormy career and sad death of her lord. Mary Beaton, + with whom Randolph, the English ambassador, used to flirt, married, in + 1566, Ogilvy of Boyne, the first love of Lady Jane Gordon, the bride of + Bothwell. Mary Seaton remained a maiden and busked the Queen’s hair during + her English captivity. We last hear of her from James Maitland of + Lethington, in 1613, living at Rheims, very old, ‘decrepid,’ and poor. + There is no room in the Four for Mary Hamilton, and no mention of her + appears in the records of the Court. + </p> + <p> + How, then, did Mary Hamilton find her way into the old ballad about + Darnley and the Queen? + </p> + <p> + To explain this puzzle, some modern writers have denied that the ballad of + ‘The Queen’s Marie’ is really old; they attribute it to the eighteenth + century. The antiquary who launched this opinion was Scott’s not very + loyal friend, Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe. According to him, a certain Miss + Hambledon (no Christian name is given), being Maid of Honour to the + Empress Catherine of Russia, had three children by an amour, and murdered + all three. Peter the Great caused her to be, not hanged, but decapitated. + Sharpe took his facts from ‘a German almanac,’ and says: ‘The Russian + tragedy must be the original.’ The late Professor Child, from more + authentic documents, dates Miss Hambledon’s or Hamilton’s execution on + March 14, 1719. At that time, or nearly then, Charles Wogan was in Russia + on a mission from the Chevalier de St. George (James III.), and through + him the news might reach Scotland. Mr. Courthope, in his ‘History of + English Poetry,’ followed Sharpe and Professor Child, and says: ‘It is + very remarkable that one of the very latest of the Scottish popular + ballads should be one of the very best.’ + </p> + <p> + The occurrence would not only be remarkable, but, as far as possibility + goes in literature, would be impossible, for several reasons. One is that + neither literary men nor mere garreteers and makers of street ballads + appear, about 1719-1730, to have been capable of recapturing the + simplicity and charm of the old ballad style, at its best, or anything + near its best. There is no mistaking the literary touch in such ballads as + Allan Ramsay handled, or in the imitation named ‘Hardyknute’ in Allan’s + ‘Tea Table Miscellany,’ 1724. ‘It was the first poem I ever learned, the + last I shall ever forget,’ said Scott, and, misled by boyish affection, he + deemed it ‘just old enough,’ ‘a noble imitation.‘* But the imitation can + deceive nobody, and while literary imitators, as far as their efforts have + reached us, were impotent to deceive, the popular Muse, of 1714-1730, was + not attempting deception. Ballads of the eighteenth century were + sarcastic, as in those on Sheriffmuir and in Skirving’s amusing ballad on + Preston Pans, or were mere doggerel, or were brief songs to old tunes. + They survive in print, whether in flying broadsides or in books, but, + popular as is ‘The Queen’s Marie,’ in all its many variants (Child gives + no less than eighteen), we do not know a single printed example before + Scott’s made-up copy in the ‘Border Minstrelsy.’ The latest ballad really + in the old popular manner known to me is that of ‘Rob Roy,’ namely, of + Robin Oig and James More, sons of Rob Roy, and about their abduction of an + heiress in 1752. This is a genuine popular poem, but in style and tone and + versification it is wholly unlike ‘The Queen’s Marie.’ I scarcely hope + that any one can produce, after 1680, a single popular piece which could + be mistaken for a ballad of or near Queen Mary’s time. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Lockhart, i. 114, x. 138. +</pre> + <p> + The known person least unlike Mr. Courthope’s late ‘maker’ was + ‘Mussel-mou’d Charlie Leslie,’ ‘an old Aberdeenshire minstrel, the very + last, probably, of the race,’ says Scott. Charlie died in 1782. He sang, + and sold PRINTED ballads. ‘Why cannot you sing other songs than those + rebellious ones?’ asked a Hanoverian Provost of Aberdeen. ‘Oh ay, but—THEY + WINNA BUY THEM!’ said Charlie. ‘Where do you buy them?’ ‘Why, faur I get + them cheapest.’ He carried his ballads in ‘a large harden bag, hung over + his shoulder.’ Charlie had tholed prison for Prince Charles, and had seen + Provost Morison drink the Prince’s health in wine and proclaim him Regent + at the Cross of Aberdeen. If Charlie (who lived to be a hundred and two) + composed the song, ‘Mussel-mou’d Charlie’ (‘this sang Charlie made + hissel’), then this maker could never have produced ‘The Queen’s Marie,’ + nor could any maker like him. His ballads were printed, as any successful + ballad of 1719 would probably have been, in broadsides.* Against Mr. Child + and Mr. Courthope, then, we argue that, after 1600, a marked decadence of + the old ballad style set in—that the old style (as far as is known) + died soon after Bothwell Brig (1679), in the execrable ballads of both + sides, such as ‘Philiphaugh,’ and that it soon was not only dead as a form + in practical use, but was entirely superseded by new kinds of popular + poetry, of which many examples survive, and are familiar to every student. + How, or why, then, should a poet, aiming at popularity, about 1719-1730, + compose ‘The Queen’s Marie’ in an obsolete manner? The old ballads were + still sung, indeed; but we ask for proof that new ballads were still + composed in the ancient fashion. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *See, for example, Mr. Macquoid’s Jacobite Songs and Ballads, pp. +424, 510, with a picture of Charlie. +</pre> + <p> + Secondly, WHY, and how tempted, would a popular poet of 1719 transfer a + modern tragedy of Russia to the year 1563, or thereabouts? His public + would naturally desire a ballad gazette of the mournful new tale, + concerning a lass of Scottish extraction, betrayed, tortured, beheaded, at + the far-off court of a Muscovite tyrant. The facts ‘palpitated with + actuality,’ and, since Homer’s day, ‘men desire’ (as Homer says) ‘the new + songs’ on the new events. What was gained by going back to Queen Mary? + Would a popular ‘Musselmou’d Charlie’ even know, by 1719, the names of the + Queen’s Maries? Mr. Courthope admits that ‘he may have been helped by some + ballad,’ one of those spoken of, as we shall see, by Knox. If that ballad + told the existing Marian story, what did the ‘maker’ add? If it did NOT, + what did he borrow? No more than the names could he borrow, and no more + than the name ‘Hamilton’ from the Russian tragedy could he add. One other + thing he might be said to add, the verses in which Mary asks ‘the jolly + sailors’ not to + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Let on to my father and mother + But that I’m coming hame.’ +</pre> + <p> + This passage, according to Mr. Courthope, ‘was suggested partly by the + fact of a Scotswoman being executed in Russia.’ C. K. Sharpe also says: + ‘If Marie Hamilton was executed in Scotland, it is not likely’ (why not?) + ‘that her relations resided beyond seas.’ They MAY have been in France, + like many another Hamilton! Mr. Child says: ‘The appeal to the sailors + shows that Mary Hamilton dies in a foreign land—not that of her + ancestors.’ Yet the ballad makes her die in or near the Canongate! + Moreover, the family of the Mary Hamilton of 1719 had been settled in + Russia for generations, and were reckoned of the Russian noblesse. The + verses, therefore, on either theory, are probably out of place, and are + perhaps an interpolation suggested to some reciter (they only occur in + some of the many versions) by a passage in ‘The Twa Brithers.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Child, i. 439. +</pre> + <p> + We now reach the most important argument for the antiquity of ‘The Queen’s + Marie.’ Mr. Courthope has theoretically introduced as existing in, or + after, 1719, ‘makers’ who could imitate to deception the old ballad style. + Now Maidment remarks that ‘this ballad was popular in Galloway, + Selkirkshire, Lanarkshire, and Aberdeen, AND THE VERY STRIKING + DISCREPANCIES GO FAR TO REMOVE EVERY SUSPICION OF FABRICATION.’ Chambers + uses (1829) against Sharpe the same argument of ‘universal diffusion in + Scotland.’ Neither Mr. Child nor Mr. Courthope draws the obvious + inferences from the extraordinary discrepancies in the eighteen variants. + Such essential discrepancies surely speak of a long period of oral + recitation by men or women accustomed to interpolate, alter, and add, in + the true old ballad manner. Did such rhapsodists exist after 1719? Old + Charlie, for one, did not sing or sell the old ballads. Again, if the + ballad (as it probably would be in 1719) was PRINTED, or even if it was + not, could the variations have been evolved between 1719 and 1802? + </p> + <p> + These variations are numerous, striking, and fundamental. In many variants + even the name of the heroine does not tally with that of the Russian maid + of honour. That most important and telling coincidence wholly disappears. + In a version of Motherwell’s, from Dumbartonshire, the heroine is Mary + Myle. In a version known to Scott (‘Minstrelsy,’ 1810, iii. 89, note), the + name is Mary Miles. Mr. Child also finds Mary Mild, Mary Moil, and Lady + Maisry. This Maisry is daughter of the Duke of York! Now, the Duke of York + whom alone the Scottish people knew was James Stuart, later James II. Once + more the heroine is daughter of the Duke of Argyll, therefore a Campbell. + Or she is without patronymic, and is daughter of a lord or knight of the + North, or South, or East, and one of her sisters is a barber’s wife, and + her father lives in England!—(Motherwell.) She, at least, might + invoke ‘Ye mariners, mariners, mariners!’ (as in Scott’s first fragment) + not to carry her story. Now we ask whether, after the ringing tragedy of + Miss Hamilton in Russia, in the year of grace 1719, contemporaries who + heard the woeful tale could, between 1719 and 1820, call the heroine—(1) + Hamilton; (2) Mild, Moil, Myle, Miles; (3) make her a daughter of the Duke + of York, or of the Duke of Argyll, or of lords and of knights from all + quarters of the compass, and sister-in-law to an English barber, also one + of the Queen’s ‘serving-maids.’ We at least cannot accept those numerous + and glittering contradictions as corruptions which could be made soon + after the Russian events, when the true old ballad style was dead. + </p> + <p> + We now produce more startling variations. The lover is not only ‘the + King,’ ‘the Prince,’ Darnley, ‘the highest Stuart o’ a’,’ but he is also + that old offender, ‘Sweet Willie,’ or he is Warrenston (Warriston?). Mary + is certainly not hanged (the Russian woman was beheaded) away from her + home; she dies in Edinburgh, near the Tolbooth, the Netherbow, the + Canongate, and— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + O what will my three brothers say + When they COME HAME frae sea, + When they see three locks o’ my yellow hair + Hinging under a gallows tree? +</pre> + <p> + It is impossible here to give all the variations. Mary pulls, or does not + pull, or her lover pulls, the leaf of the Abbey, or ‘savin,’ or other + tree; the Queen is ‘auld,’ or not ‘auld;’ she kicks in Mary’s door and + bursts the bolts, or does nothing so athletic and inconsistent with her + advanced age. The heroine does, or does not, appeal vainly to her father. + Her dress is of all varieties. She does, or does not, go to the Tolbooth + and other places. She is, or is not, allured to Edinburgh, ‘a wedding for + to see.’ Her infanticide is variously described, or its details are + omitted, and the dead body of the child is found in various places, or not + found at all. Though drowned in the sea, it is between the bolster and the + wall, or under the blankets! She expects, or does not expect, to be + avenged by her kin. The king is now angry, now clement—inviting Mary + to dinner! Mary is hanged, or (Buchan’s MS.) is not hanged, but is + ransomed by Warrenston, probably Johnston of Warriston! These are a few + specimens of variations in point of fact: in language the variations are + practically countless. How could they arise, if the ballad is later than + 1719? + </p> + <p> + We now condescend to appeal to statistics. We have examined the number of + variants published by Mr. Child in his first six volumes, on ballads which + have, or may have, an historical basis. Of course, the older and more + popular the ballads, the more variants do we expect to discover—time + and taste producing frequent changes. Well, of ‘Otterburn’ Mr. Child has + five versions; of the ‘Hunting of the Cheviot’ he has two, with minor + modifications indicated by letters from the ‘lower case.’ Of ‘Gude + Wallace’ he has eight. Of ‘Johnnie Armstrong’ he has three. Of ‘Kinmont + Willie’ he has one. Of ‘The Bonnie Earl o’ Moray’ he has two. Of ‘Johnnie + Cock’ he has thirteen. Of ‘Sir Patrick Spens’ he has eighteen. And of ‘The + Queen’s Marie’ (counting Burns’s solitary verse and other brief fragments) + Mr. Child has eighteen versions or variants + </p> + <p> + Thus a ballad made, ex hypothesi Sharpiana, in or after 1719, has been as + much altered in oral tradition as the most popular and perhaps the oldest + historical ballad of all, ‘Sir Patrick Spens,’ and much more than any + other of the confessedly ancient semi-historical popular poems. The + historical event which may have suggested ‘Sir Patrick Spens’ is + ‘plausibly,’ says Mr. Child, fixed in 1281: it is the marriage of Margaret + of Scotland to Eric, King of Norway. Others suggest so late a date as the + wooing of Anne of Denmark by James VI. Nothing is known. No wonder, then, + that in time an orally preserved ballad grows rich in variants. But that a + ballad of 1719 should, in eighty modern non-balladising years, become as + rich in extant variants, and far more discrepant in their details, as ‘Sir + Patrick Spens’ is a circumstance for which we invite explanation. + </p> + <p> + Will men say, ‘The later the ballad, the more it is altered in oral + tradition’? If so, let them, by all means, produce examples! We should, on + this theory, have about a dozen ‘Battles of Philiphaugh,’ and at least + fifteen ‘Bothwell Brigs,’ a poem, by the way, much in the old manner, + prosaically applied, and so recent that, in art at least, it was produced + after the death of the Duke of Monmouth, slain, it avers, by the + machinations of Claverhouse! Of course we are not asking for exact + proportions, since many variants of ballads may be lost, but merely for + proof that, the later a ballad is, the more variants of it occur. But this + contention is probably impossible, and the numerous variations in ‘The + Queen’s Marie’ are really a proof of long existence in oral tradition, and + contradict the theory espoused by Mr. Child, who later saw the difficulty + involved in his hypothesis. + </p> + <p> + This argument, though statistical, is, we think, conclusive, and the other + considerations which we have produced in favour of the antiquity of ‘The + Queen’s Marie’ add their cumulative weight. + </p> + <p> + We have been, in brief, invited to suppose that, about 1719, a Scot wrote + a ballad on an event in contemporary Russian Court life; that (contrary to + use and wont) he threw the story back a century and a half; that he was a + master of an old style, in the practice of his age utterly obsolete and + not successfully imitated; that his poem became universally popular, and + underwent, in eighty years, even more vicissitudes than most other ballads + encounter in three or five centuries. Meanwhile it is certain that there + had been real ancient ballads, contemporary with the Marian events—ballads + on the very Maries two or three of whom appear in the so-called poem of + 1719; while exactly the same sort of scandal as the ballad records had + actually occurred at Queen Mary’s Court in a lower social rank. The theory + of Mr. Child is opposed to our whole knowledge of ballad literature, of + its age, decadence (about 1620-1700), and decease (in the old kind) as a + popular art. + </p> + <p> + To agree with Mr. Child, we must not only accept one great ballad-poet, + born at least fifty years too late; we must not only admit that such a + poet would throw back his facts for a century and a half; but we must also + conceive that the balladising humour, with its ancient methods, was even + more vivacious in Scotland for many years after 1719 than, as far as we + know, it had ever been before. Yet there is no other trace known to us of + the existence of the old balladising humour and of the old art in all that + period. We have no such ballad about the English captain shot by the + writer’s pretty wife, none about the bewitched son of Lord Torphichen, + none about the Old Chevalier, or Lochiel, or Prince Charlie: we have + merely Shenstone’s ‘Jemmy Dawson’ and the Glasgow bellman’s rhymed history + of Prince Charles. In fact, ‘Jemmy Dawson’ is a fair instantia + contradictoria as far as a ballad by a man of letters is to the point. + Such a ballad that age could indeed produce: it is not very like ‘The + Queen’s Marie’! No, we cannot take refuge in ‘Townley’s Ghost’ and his + address to the Butcher Cumberland:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Imbrued in bliss, imbathed in case, + Though now thou seem’st to lie, + My injured form shall gall thy peace, + And make thee wish to die! +</pre> + <p> + THAT is a ballad of the eighteenth century, and it is not in the manner of + ‘The Queen’s Marie.’ + </p> + <p> + These considerations, now so obvious to a student of the art of old + popular poetry, if he thinks of the matter, could not occur to Charles + Kirkpatrick Sharpe. He was a great collector of ballads, but not versed + in, or interested in, their ‘aesthetic’—in the history and evolution + of ballad-making. Mr. Child, on the other hand, was the Grimm or Kohler of + popular English and Scottish poetry. Our objections to his theory could + scarcely have been collected in such numbers, without the aid of his own + assortment of eighteen versions or fragments, with more lectiones variae. + But he has not allowed for the possible, the constantly occurring, chance + of coincidence between fancy and fact; nor, perhaps, has he reflected on + the changed condition of ballad poetry in the eighteenth century, on the + popular love of a new song about a new event, and on the entire lack of + evidence (as far as I am aware) for the existence of ballad-poets in the + old manner during the reign of George I. The ballad-reading public of 1719 + would have revelled in a fresh ballad of a Scottish lass, recently + betrayed, tortured, and slain far away by a Russian tyrant. A fresh ballad + on Queen Mary’s Court, done in the early obsolete manner, would, on the + other hand, have had comparatively little charm for the ballad-buying + lieges in 1719. The ballad-poet had thus in 1719 no temptation to be + ‘archaistic,’ like Mr. Rossetti, and to sing of old times. He had, on the + contrary, every inducement to indite a ‘rare new ballad’ on the last + tragic scandal, with its poignant details, as of Peter kissing the dead + girl’s head. + </p> + <p> + The hypothesis of Mr. Child could only be DEMONSTRATED incorrect by + proving that there was no Russian scandal at all, or by producing a + printed or manuscript copy of ‘The Queen’s Marie’ older than 1719. We can + do neither of these things; we can only give the reader his choice of two + improbabilities—(a) that an historical event, in 1718-19, chanced to + coincide with the topic of an old ballad; (b) that, contrary to all we + know of the evolution of ballads and the state of taste, a new popular + poem on a fresh theme was composed in a style long disused,* was offered + most successfully to the public of 1719, and in not much more than half a + century was more subjected to alterations and interpolations than ballads + which for two or three hundred years had run the gauntlet of oral + tradition. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *A learned Scots antiquary writes to me: ‘The real ballad manner +hardly came down to 1600. It was killed by the Francis Roos version +of the Psalms, after which the Scottish folk of the Lowlands cast +everything into that mould.’ I think, however, that ‘Bothwell Brig’ is a +true survival of the ancient style, and there are other examples, as in +the case of the ballad on Lady Warriston’s husband murder. +</pre> + <p> + As for our own explanation of the resemblance between the affair of Miss + Hamilton, in 1719, and the ballad story of Mary Hamilton (alias Mild, + Myle, Moil, Campbell, Miles, or Stuart, or anonymous, or Lady Maisry), we + simply, with Scott, regard it as ‘a very curious coincidence.’ On the + other theory, on Mr. Child’s, it is also a curious coincidence that a + waiting-woman of Mary Stuart WAS hanged (not beheaded) for child-murder, + and that there WERE written, simultaneously, ballads on the Queen’s + Maries. Much odder coincidences than either have often, and indisputably, + occurred, and it is not for want of instances, but for lack of space, that + we do not give examples. + </p> + <p> + Turning, now, to a genuine historic scandal of Queen Mary’s reign, we find + that it might have given rise to the many varying forms of the ballad of + ‘The Queen’s Marie.’ There is, practically, no such ballad; that is, among + the many variants, we cannot say which comes nearest to the ‘original’ lay + of the frail maid and her doom. All the variants are full of historical + impossibilities, due to the lapses of memory and the wandering fancy of + reciters, altering and interpolating, through more than two centuries, an + original of which nothing can now be known. The fancy, if not of the first + ballad poet who dealt with a real tragic event, at least of his successors + in many corners of Scotland, raised the actors and sufferers in a sad + story, elevating a French waiting-maid to the rank of a Queen’s Marie, and + her lover, a French apothecary, to the place of a queen’s consort, or, at + lowest, of a Scottish laird. + </p> + <p> + At the time of the General Assembly which met on Christmas Day 1563, a + French waiting-maid of Mary Stuart, ‘ane Frenche woman that servit in the + Queenis chalmer,’ fell into sin ‘with the Queenis awin hipoticary.’ The + father and mother slew the child, and were ‘dampned to be hangit upoun the + publict streit of Edinburgh.’ No official report exists: ‘the records of + the Court of Justiciary at this time are defective,’ says Maidment, and he + conjectures that the accused may have been hanged without trial, + ‘redhand.’ Now the Queen’s apothecary must have left traces in the royal + account-books. No writer on the subject has mentioned them. I myself have + had the Records of Privy Council and the MS. Treasurer’s Accounts + examined, with their statement of the expenses of the royal household. The + Rev. John Anderson was kind enough to undertake this task, though with + less leisure than he could have desired. There is, unluckily, a gap of + some months in 1563. In June 1560, Mr. Anderson finds mention of a + ‘medicinar,’ ‘apoticarre,’ ‘apotigar,’ but no name is given, and the Queen + was then in France. One Nicholas Wardlaw of the royal household was + engaged, in 1562, to a Miss Seton of Parbroath, but it needed a special + royal messenger to bring the swain to the altar. ‘Ane appotigar’ of 1562 + is mentioned, but not named, and we hear of Robert Henderson, chirurgeon, + who supplied powders and odours to embalm Huntley. There is no trace of + the hanging of any ‘appotigar,’ or of any one of the Queen’s women, ‘the + maidans,’ spoken of collectively. So far, the search for the apothecary + has been a failure. More can be learned from Randolph’s letter to Cecil + (December 31, 1563), here copied from the MS. in the Public Record Office. + The austerity of Mary’s Court, under Mr. Knox, is amusingly revealed:—‘For + newes yt maye please your honour to knowe that the Lord Treasurer of + Scotlande for gettinge of a woman with chylde muste vpon Sondaye nexte do + open penance before the whole congregation and mr knox mayke the sermonde. + Thys my Lord of murraye wylled me to wryte vnto you for a note of our + greate severitie in punyshynge of offenders. THE FRENCHE POTTICARIE AND + THE WOMAN HE GOTTE WITH CHYLDE WERE BOTHE HANGED THYS PRESENT FRIDAYE. + Thys hathe made myche sorrowe in our Courte. Maynie evle fortunes we have + had by our Frenche fowlkes, and yet I feare we love them over well.’ + </p> + <p> + After recording the condemnation of the waiting-woman and her lover, Knox + tells a false story about ‘shame hastening the marriage’ of Mary + Livingstone. Dr. Robertson, in his ‘Inventories of Queen Mary,’ refutes + this slander, which he deems as baseless as the fables against Knox’s own + continence. Knox adds: ‘What bruit the Maries and the rest of the danseris + of the Courte had, the ballads of that age did witness, quhilk we for + modesteis sake omit.’ Unlucky omission, unfortunate ‘modestei’! From + Randolph’s Letters it is known that Knox, at this date, was thundering + against ‘danseris.’ Here, then, is a tale of the Queen’s French + waiting-woman hanged for murder, and here is proof that there actually + were ballads about the Queen’s Maries. These ladies, as we know from + Keith, were, from the first, in the Queen’s childhood, Mary Livingstone, + Mary Seatoun, Mary Beatoun, and Mary Fleming. + </p> + <p> + We have, then, a child-murder, by a woman of the Queen, we have ballads + about her Maries, and, as Scott says, ‘the tale has suffered great + alterations, as handed down by tradition, the French waiting-woman being + changed into Mary Hamilton, and the Queen’s apothecary into Henry + Darnley,’ who, as Mr. Child shows, was not even in Scotland in 1563. But + gross perversion of contemporary facts does not prove a ballad to be late + or apocryphal. Mr. Child even says that accuracy in a ballad would be very + ‘suspicious.’ Thus, for example, we know, from contemporary evidence, that + the murder of the Bonny Earl Murray, in 1592, by Huntley, was at once made + the topic of ballads. Of these, Aytoun and Mr. Child print two widely + different in details: in the first, Huntley has married Murray’s sister; + in the second, Murray is the lover of the Queen of James VI. Both + statements are picturesque; but the former is certainly, and the latter is + probably, untrue. Again, ‘King James and Brown,’ in the Percy MS., is + accepted as a genuine contemporary ballad of the youth of gentle King + Jamie. James is herein made to say to his nobles,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘My grandfather you have slaine, + And my own mother you hanged on a tree.’ +</pre> + <p> + Even if we read ‘father’ (against the manuscript) this is absurd. James V. + was not ‘slaine,’ neither Darnley nor Mary was ‘hanged on a tree.’ Ballads + are always inaccurate; they do not report events, so much as throw into + verse the popular impression of events, the magnified, distorted, dramatic + rumours. That a ballad-writer should promote a Queen’s tirewoman into a + Queen’s Marie, and substitute Darnley (where HE is the lover, which is not + always) for the Queen’s apothecary, is a license quite in keeping with + precedent. Mr. Child, obviously, would admit this. In producing a Marie + who never existed, the ‘maker’ shows the same delicacy as Voltaire, when + he brings into ‘Candide’ a Pope who never was born. + </p> + <p> + Finally, a fragment of a variant of the ballad among the Abbotsford MSS.* + does mention an apothecary as the lover of the heroine, and, so far, is + true to historical fact, whether the author was well informed, or merely, + in the multitude of variations, deviated by chance into truth. + </p> + <p> + There can, on the whole, be no reasonable doubt that the ballad is on an + event in Scotland of 1563, not of 1719, in Russia, and Mr. Child came to + hold that this opinion was, at least, the more probable.** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Child, vol. iv. p. 509. + + **Ibid., vol. v. pp. 298, 299. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. THE SHAKESPEARE-BACON IMBROGLIO* + </h2> + <p> + The hypothesis that the works of Shakespeare were written by Bacon has now + been before the world for more than forty years. It has been supported in + hundreds of books and pamphlets, but, as a rule, it has been totally + neglected by scholars. Perhaps their indifference may seem wise, for such + an opinion may appear to need no confutation. ‘There are foolisher fellows + than the Baconians,’ says a sage—‘those who argue against them.’ On + the other hand, ignorance has often cherished beliefs which science has + been obliged reluctantly to admit. The existence of meteorites, and the + phenomena of hypnotism, were familiar to the ancient world, and to modern + peasants, while philosophy disdained to investigate them. In fact, it is + never really prudent to overlook a widely spread opinion. If we gain + nothing else by examining its grounds, at least we learn something about + the psychology of its advocates. In this case we can estimate the + learning, the logic, and the general intellect of people who form + themselves into Baconian Societies, to prove that the poems and plays of + Shakespeare were written by Bacon. Thus a light is thrown on the nature + and origin of popular delusions. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *(1) ‘Bacon and Shakespeare,’ by William Henry Smith (1857); +(2) ‘The Authorship of Shakespeare,’ by Nathaniel Holmes (1875); (3) +‘The Great Cryptogram,’ by Ignatius Donnelly (1888); (4) ‘The Promus of +Formularies and Elegancies of Francis Bacon,’ by Mrs. Henry Pott (1883); +(5) ‘William Shakespeare,’ by Georg Brandes (1898); (6) ‘Shakespeare,’ +by Sidney Lee (in the Dictionary of National Biography, 1897); (7) +‘Shakespeare Dethroned’ (in Pearson’s Magazine, December 1897); (8) ‘The +Hidden Lives of Shakespeare and Bacon,’ by W. G. Thorpe, F.S.A. (1897). +(9) ‘The Mystery of William Shakespeare,’ by Judge Webb (1902). +</pre> + <p> + The Baconian creed, of course, is scouted equally by special students of + Bacon, special students of Shakespeare, and by almost all persons who + devote themselves to sound literature. It is equally rejected by Mr. + Spedding, the chief authority on Bacon; by Mr. H. H. Furness, the learned + and witty American editor of the ‘Variorum Shakespeare;’ by Dr. Brandes, + the Danish biographer and critic; by Mr. Swinburne, with his rare + knowledge of Elizabethan and, indeed, of all literature; and by Mr. Sidney + Lee, Shakespeare’s latest biographer. Therefore, the first point which + strikes us in the Baconian hypothesis is that its devotees are nobly + careless of authority. We do not dream of converting them, but it may be + amusing to examine the kind of logic and the sort of erudition which go to + support an hypothesis not freely welcomed even in Germany. + </p> + <p> + The mother of the Baconian theory (though others had touched a guess at + it) was undeniably Miss Delia Bacon, born at Tallmadge, Ohio, in 1811. + Miss Bacon used to lecture on Roman history, illustrating her theme by + recitations from Macaulay’s ‘Lays.’ ‘Her very heart was lacerated,’ says + Mr. Donnelly, ‘and her womanly pride wounded, by a creature in the shape + of a man—a Reverend (!) Alexander MacWhorter.’ This Celtic divine + was twenty-five, Miss Bacon was thirty-five; there arose a + misunderstanding; but Miss Bacon had developed her Baconian theory before + she knew Mr. MacWhorter. ‘She became a monomaniac on the subject,’ writes + Mr. Wyman, and ‘after the publication and non-success of her book she lost + her reason WHOLLY AND ENTIRELY.’ But great wits jump, and, just as Mr. + Darwin and Mr. Wallace simultaneously evolved the idea of Natural + Selection, so, unconscious of Miss Delia, Mr. William Henry Smith + developed the Baconian verity. + </p> + <p> + From the days of Mr. William Henry Smith, in 1856, the great Baconian + argument has been that Shakespeare could not conceivably have had the vast + learning, classical, scientific, legal, medical, and so forth, of the + author of the plays. Bacon, on the other hand, and nobody else, had this + learning, and had, though he concealed them, the poetic powers of the + unknown author. Therefore, prima facie, Bacon wrote the works of + Shakespeare. Mr. Smith, as we said, had been partly anticipated, here, by + the unlucky Miss Delia Bacon, to whose vast and wandering book Mr. + Hawthorne wrote a preface. Mr. Hawthorne accused Mr. Smith of plagiarism + from Miss Delia Bacon; Mr. Smith replied that, when he wrote his first + essay (1856), he had never even heard the lady’s name. Mr. Hawthorne + expressed his regret, and withdrew his imputation. Mr. Smith is the second + founder of Baconomania. + </p> + <p> + Like his followers, down to Mr. Ignatius Donnelly, and Mr. Bucke, and + General Butler, and Mr. Atkinson, who writes in ‘The Spiritualist,’ and + Mrs. Gallup, and Judge Webb, Mr. Smith rested, first, on Shakespeare’s + lack of education, and on the wide learning of the author of the poems and + plays. Now, Ben Jonson, who knew both Shakespeare and Bacon, averred that + the former had ‘small Latin and less Greek,’ doubtless with truth. It was + necessary, therefore, to prove that the author of the plays had plenty of + Latin and Greek. Here Mr. John Churton Collins suggests that Ben meant no + more than that Shakespeare was not, in the strict sense, a scholar. Yet he + might read Latin, Mr. Collins thinks, with ease and pleasure, and might + pick out the sense of Greek books by the aid of Latin translations. To + this view we return later. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile we shall compare the assertions of the laborious Mr. Holmes, the + American author of ‘The Authorship of Shakespeare’ (third edition, 1875), + and of the ingenious Mr. Donnelly, the American author of ‘The Great + Cryptogram.’ Both, alas! derive in part from the ignorance of Pope. Pope + had said: ‘Shakespeare follows the Greek authors, and particularly Dares + Phrygius.’ Mr. Smith cites this nonsense; so do Mr. Donnelly and Mr. + Holmes. Now the so-called Dares Phrygius is not a Greek author. No Greek + version of his early mediaeval romance, ‘De Bello Trojano,’ exists. The + matter of the book found its way into Chaucer, Boccaccio, Lydgate, Guido + de Colonna, and other authors accessible to one who had no Greek at all, + while no Greek version of Dares was accessible to anybody.* Some recent + authors, English and American, have gone on, with the credulity of ‘the + less than half educated,’ taking a Greek Dares for granted, on the + authority of Pope, whose Greek was ‘small.’ They have clearly never looked + at a copy of Dares, never known that the story attributed to Dares was + familiar, in English and French, to everybody. Mr. Holmes quotes Pope, Mr. + Donnelly quotes Mr. Holmes, for this Greek Dares Phrygius. Probably + Shakespeare had Latin enough to read the pseudo-Dares, but probably he did + not take the trouble. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *See Brandes, William Shakespeare, ii. 198-202. +</pre> + <p> + This example alone proves that men who are not scholars venture to + pronounce on Shakespeare’s scholarship, and that men who take absurd + statements at second hand dare to constitute themselves judges of a + question of evidence and of erudition. + </p> + <p> + The worthy Mr. Donnelly then quotes Mr. Holmes for Shakespeare’s knowledge + of the Greek drama. Turning to Mr. Holmes (who takes his motto, if you + please, from Parmenides), we find that the author of ‘Richard II.’ + borrowed from a Greek play by Euripides, called ‘Hellene,’ as did the + author of the sonnets. There is, we need not say, no Greek play of the + name of ‘Hellene.’ As Mr. Holmes may conceivably mean the ‘Helena’ of + Euripides, we compare Sonnet cxxi. with ‘Helena,’ line 270. The parallel, + the imitation of Euripides, appears to be— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + By their dark thoughts my deeds must not be shown, +</pre> + <p> + with— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Prooton men ouk ons adikoz eimi duskleez, +</pre> + <p> + which means, ‘I have lost my reputation though I have done no harm.’ + Shakespeare, then, could not complain of calumny without borrowing from + ‘Hellene,’ a name which only exists in the fancy of Mr. Nathaniel Holmes. + This critic assigns ‘Richard II.,’ act ii., scene 1, to ‘Hellene’ 512-514. + We can find no resemblance whatever between the three Greek lines cited, + from the ‘Helena,’ and the scene in Shakespeare. Mr. Holmes appears to + have reposed on Malone, and Malone may have remarked on fugitive + resemblances, such as inevitably occur by coincidence of thought. Thus the + similarity of the situations of Hamlet and of Orestes in the ‘Eumenides’ + is given by similarity of legend, Danish and Greek. Authors of genius, + Greek or English, must come across analogous ideas in treating analogous + topics. It does not follow that the poet of ‘Hamlet’ was able to read + AEschylus, least of all that he could read him in Greek. + </p> + <p> + Anglicised version of the author’s original Greek text. + </p> + <p> + The ‘Comedy of Errors’ is based on the ‘Menaechmi’ of Plautus. It does not + follow that the author of the ‘Comedy of Errors’ could read the + ‘Menaechmi’ or the ‘Amphitryon,’ though Shakespeare had probably Latin + enough for the purpose. The ‘Comedy of Errors’ was acted in December 1594. + A translation of the Latin play bears date 1595, but this may be an + example of the common practice of post-dating a book by a month or two, + and Shakespeare may have seen the English translation in the work itself, + in proof, or in manuscript. In those days MSS. often circulated long + before they were published, like Shakespeare’s own ‘sugared sonnets.’ + However, it is highly probable that Shakespeare was equal to reading the + Latin of Plautus. + </p> + <p> + In ‘Twelfth Night’ occurs— + </p> + <p> + Like the Egyptian thief, at point of death, kill what I love. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Donnelly writes: ‘This is an allusion to a story from Heliodorus’s + “AEthiopica.” I do not know of any English translation of it in the time + of Shakespeare.’ The allusion is, we conceive, to Herodotus, ii. 121, the + story of Rhampsinitus, translated by ‘B. R.’ and published in 1584. In + ‘Macbeth’ we find— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + All our yesterdays have LIGHTED fools + The way to dusty death. Out, out, BRIEF CANDLE. +</pre> + <p> + This is ‘traced,’ says Mr. Donnelly, ‘to Catullus.’ He quotes:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Soles occidere et redire possunt; + Nobis, cum semel occidit brevis lux, + Nox est perpetuo una dormienda. +</pre> + <p> + Where is the parallel? It is got by translating Catullus thus:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The LIGHTS of heaven go out and return; + When once our BRIEF CANDLE goes out, + One night is to be perpetually slept. +</pre> + <p> + But soles are not ‘lights,’ and brevis lux is not ‘brief candle.’ If they + were, the passages have no resemblance. ‘To be, or not to be,’ is ‘taken + almost verbatim from Plato.’ Mr. Donnelly says that Mr. Follett says that + the Messrs. Langhorne say so. But, where is the passage in Plato? + </p> + <p> + Such are the proofs by which men ignorant of the classics prove that the + author of the poems attributed to Shakespeare was a classical scholar. In + fact, he probably had a ‘practicable’ knowledge of Latin, such as a person + of his ability might pick up at school, and increase by casual study: + points to which we return. For the rest, classical lore had filtered into + contemporary literature and translations, such as North’s Plutarch. + </p> + <p> + As to modern languages, Mr. Donnelly decides that Shakespeare knew Danish, + because he must have read Saxo Grammaticus ‘in the original tongue’—which, + of course, is NOT Danish! Saxo was done out of the Latin into French. Thus + Shakespeare is not exactly proved to have been a Danish scholar. There is + no difficulty in supposing that ‘a clayver man,’ living among wits, could + pick up French and Italian sufficient for his uses. But extremely stupid + people are naturally amazed by even such commonplace acquirements. When + the step is made from cleverness to genius, then the dull disbelieve, or + cry out of a miracle. Now, as ‘miracles do not happen,’ a man of + Shakespeare’s education could not have written the plays attributed to him + by his critics, companions, friends, and acquaintances. Shakespeare, ex + hypothesi, was a rude unlettered fellow. Such a man, the Baconians assume, + would naturally be chosen by Bacon as his mask, and put forward as the + author of Bacon’s pieces. Bacon would select a notorious ignoramus as a + plausible author of pieces which, by the theory, are rich in knowledge of + the classics, and nobody would be surprised. Nobody would say: + ‘Shakespeare is as ignorant as a butcher’s boy, and cannot possibly be the + person who translated Hamlet’s soliloquy out of Plato, “Hamlet” at large + out of the Danish; who imitated the “Hellene” of Euripides, and borrowed + “Troilus and Cressida” from the Greek of Dares Phrygius’—which + happens not to exist. Ignorance can go no further than in these arguments. + Such are the logic and learning of American amateurs, who sometimes do not + even know the names of the books they talk about, or the languages in + which they are written. Such learning and such logic are passed off by + ‘the less than half educated’ on the absolutely untaught, who decline to + listen to scholars. + </p> + <p> + We cannot of course furnish a complete summary of all that the Baconians + have said in their myriad pages. All those pages, almost, really flow from + the little volume of Mr. Smith. We are obliged to take the points which + the Baconians regard as their strong cards. We have dealt with the point + of classical scholarship, and shown that the American partisans of Bacon + are not scholars, and have no locus standi. We shall take next in order + the contention that Bacon was a poet; that his works contain parallel + passages to Shakespeare, which can only be the result of common + authorship; that Bacon’s notes, called ‘Promus,’ are notes for + Shakespeare’s plays; that, in style, Bacon and Shakespeare are identical. + Then we shall glance at Bacon’s motives for writing plays by stealth, and + blushing to find it fame. We shall expose the frank folly of averring that + he chose as his mask a man who (some assert) could not even write; and we + shall conclude by citing, once more, the irrefragable personal testimony + to the genius and character of Shakespeare. + </p> + <p> + To render the Baconian theory plausible it is necessary to show that Bacon + had not only the learning needed for ‘the authorship of Shakespeare,’ but + that he gives some proof of Shakespeare’s poetic qualities; that he had + reasons for writing plays, and reasons for concealing his pen, and for + omitting to make any claim to his own literary triumphs after Shakespeare + was dead. Now, as to scholarship, the knowledge shown in the plays is not + that of a scholar, does not exceed that of a man of genius equipped with + what, to Ben Jonson, seemed ‘small Latin and less Greek,’ and with + abundance of translations, and books like ‘Euphues,’ packed with classical + lore, to help him. With the futile attempts to prove scholarship we have + dealt. The legal and medical lore is in no way beyond the ‘general + information’ which genius inevitably amasses from reading, conversation, + reflection, and experience. + </p> + <p> + A writer of to-day, Mr. Kipling, is fond of showing how easily a man of + his rare ability picks up the terminology of many recondite trades and + professions. Again, evidence taken on oath proves that Jeanne d’Arc, a + girl of seventeen, developed great military skill, especially in artillery + and tactics, that she displayed political clairvoyance, and that she held + her own, and more, among the subtlest and most hostile theologians. On the + ordinary hypothesis, that Shakespeare was a man of genius, there is, then, + nothing impossible in his knowledge, while his wildly daring anachronisms + could have presented no temptation to a well-regulated scientific + intellect like that of Bacon. The Baconian hypothesis rests on the + incredulity with which dulness regards genius. We see the phenomenon every + day when stupid people talk about people of ordinary cleverness, and + ‘wonder with a foolish face of praise.’ As Dr. Brandes remarks, when the + Archbishop of Canterbury praises Henry V. and his universal + accomplishments, he says: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Which is a wonder, how his grace should glean it, + Since his addiction was to courses vain, + His companies unletter’d, rude, and shallow, + His hours fill’d up with riots, banquets, sports + AND NEVER NOTED IN HIM ANY STUDY, + Any retirement, any sequestration, + From open haunts and popularity. +</pre> + <p> + Yet, as the Archbishop remarks (with doubtful orthodoxy), ‘miracles are + ceased.’ + </p> + <p> + Shakespeare in these lines describes, as only he could describe it, the + world’s wonder which he himself was. Or, if Bacon wrote the lines, then + Bacon, unlike his advocates, was prepared to recognise the possible + existence of such a thing as genius. Incredulity on this head could only + arise in an age and in peoples where mediocrity is almost universal. It is + a democratic form of disbelief. + </p> + <p> + For the hypothesis, as we said, it is necessary to show that Bacon + possessed poetic genius. The proof cannot possibly be found in his prose + works. In the prose of Mr. Ruskin there are abundant examples of what many + respectable minds regard as poetic qualities. But, if the question arose, + ‘Was Mr. Ruskin the author of Tennyson’s poems?’ the answer could be + settled, for once, by internal evidence. We have only to look at Mr. + Ruskin’s published verses. These prove that a great writer of ‘poetical + prose’ may be at the opposite pole from a poet. In the same way, we ask, + what are Bacon’s acknowledged compositions in verse? Mr. Holmes is their + admirer. In 1599 Bacon wrote in a letter, ‘Though I profess not to be a + poet, I prepared a sonnet,’ to Queen Elizabeth. He PREPARED a sonnet! + ‘Prepared’ is good. He also translated some of the Psalms into verse, a + field in which success is not to be won. Mr. Holmes notes, in Psalm xc., a + Shakespearean parallel. ‘We spend our years as a tale that is told.’ Bacon + renders: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + As a tale told, which sometimes men attend, + And sometimes not, our life steals to an end. +</pre> + <p> + In ‘King John,’ iii. 4, we read:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale + Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man. +</pre> + <p> + Now, if we must detect a connection, Bacon might have read ‘King John’ in + the Folio, for he versified the Psalms in 1625. But it is unnecessary to + suppose a reminiscence. Again, in Psalm civ. Bacon has— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The greater navies look like walking woods. +</pre> + <p> + They looked like nothing of the sort; but Bacon may have remembered Birnam + Wood, either from Boece or Holinshed, or from the play itself. One thing + is certain: Shakespeare did not write Bacon’s Psalms or compare navies to + ‘walking woods’! Mr. Holmes adds: ‘Many of the sonnets [of Shakespeare] + show the strongest internal evidence that they were addressed [by Bacon] + to the Queen, as no doubt they were.’ That is, Bacon wrote sonnets to + Queen Elizabeth, and permitted them to pass from hand to hand, among + Shakespeare’s ‘private friends,’ as Shakespeare’s (1598). That was an odd + way of paying court to Queen Elizabeth. Chalmers had already conjectured + that Shakespeare (not Bacon) in the sonnets was addressing the Virgin + Queen, whom he recommended to marry and leave offspring—rather late + in life. Shakespeare’s apparent allusions to his profession— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I have gone here and there, + And made myself a motley to the view, +</pre> + <p> + and + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The public means which public manners breeds, +</pre> + <p> + refer, no doubt, to Bacon’s versatile POLITICAL behaviour. It has hitherto + been supposed that sonnet lvii. was addressed to Shakespeare’s friend, a + man, not to any woman. But Mr. Holmes shows that the Queen is intended. Is + it not obvious? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I, MY SOVEREIGN, watch the clock for you. +</pre> + <p> + Bacon clearly had an assignation with Her Majesty—so here is + ‘scandal about Queen Elizabeth.’ Mr. Holmes pleasingly remarks that + Twickenham is ‘within sight of Her Majesty’s Palace of White Hall.’ She + gave Bacon the reversion of Twickenham Park, doubtless that, from the + windows of White Hall, she might watch her swain. And Bacon wrote a masque + for the Queen; he skilfully varied his style in this piece from that which + he used under the name of Shakespeare. With a number of other gentlemen, + some named, some unnamed, Bacon once, at an uncertain date, interested + himself in a masque at Gray’s Inn, while he and his friends ‘partly + devised dumb shows and additional speeches,’ in 1588. + </p> + <p> + Nothing follows as to Bacon’s power of composing Shakespeare’s plays. A + fragmentary masque, which may or may not be by Bacon, is put forward as + the germ of what Bacon wrote about Elizabeth in the ‘Midsummer Night’s + Dream.’ An Indian WANDERER from the West Indies, near the fountain of the + AMAZON, is brought to Elizabeth to be cured of blindness. Now the fairy, + in the ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ says, capitalised by Mr. Holmes: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I DO WANDER EVERYWHERE. +</pre> + <p> + Here then are two wanderers—and there is a river in Monmouth and a + river in Macedon. Puck, also, is ‘that merry WANDERER of the night.’ Then + ‘A BOUNCING AMAZON’ is mentioned in the ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ and + ‘the fountain of the great river of the Amazons’ is alluded to in the + fragment of the masque. Cupid too occurs in the play, and in the masque + the wanderer is BLIND; now Cupid is blind, sometimes, but hardly when ‘a + certain aim he took.’ The Indian, in the masque, presents Elizabeth with + ‘his gift AND PROPERTY TO BE EVER YOUNG,’ and the herb, in the play, has a + ‘VIRTUOUS PROPERTY.’ + </p> + <p> + For such exquisite reasons as these the masque and the ‘Midsummer Night’s + Dream’ are by one hand, and the masque is by Bacon. For some unknown cause + the play is full of poetry, which is entirely absent from the masque. Mr. + Holmes was a Judge; sat on the bench of American Themis—and these + are his notions of proof and evidence. The parallel passages which he + selects are on a level with the other parallels between Bacon and + Shakespeare. One thing is certain: the writer of the masque shows no signs + of being a poet, and a poet Bacon explicitly ‘did not profess to be.’ One + piece of verse attributed to Bacon, a loose paraphrase of a Greek epigram, + has won its way into ‘The Golden Treasury.’ Apart from that solitary + composition, the verses which Bacon ‘prepared’ were within the powers of + almost any educated Elizabethan. They are on a level with the rhymes of + Mr. Ruskin. It was only when he wrote as Shakespeare that Bacon wrote as a + poet. + </p> + <p> + We have spoken somewhat harshly of Mr. Holmes as a classical scholar, and + as a judge of what, in literary matters, makes evidence. We hasten to add + that he could be convinced of error. He had regarded a sentence of Bacon’s + as a veiled confession that Bacon wrote ‘Richard II.,’ ‘which, though it + grew from me, went after about in others’ names.’ Mr. Spedding averred + that Mr. Holmes’s opinion rested on a grammatical misinterpretation, and + Mr. Holmes accepted the correction. But ‘nothing less than a miracle’ + could shake Mr. Holmes’s belief in the common authorship of the masque + (possibly Bacon’s) and the ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream’—so he told Mr. + Spedding. To ourselves nothing short of a miracle, or the visitation of + God in the shape of idiocy, could bring the conviction that the person who + wrote the masque could have written the play. The reader may compare the + whole passage in Mr. Holmes’s work (pp. 228-238). We have already set + forth some of those bases of his belief which only a miracle could shake. + The weak wind that scarcely bids the aspen shiver might blow them all + away. + </p> + <p> + Vast space is allotted by Baconians to ‘parallel passages’ in Bacon and + Shakespeare. We have given a few in the case of the masque and the + ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream.’ The others are of equal weight. They are on a + level with ‘Punch’s’ proofs that Alexander Smith was a plagiarist. Thus + Smith: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + No CHARACTER that servant WOMAN asked; +</pre> + <p> + Pope writes: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Most WOMEN have no CHARACTER at all. +</pre> + <p> + It is tedious to copy out the puerilities of such parallelisms. Thus + Bacon: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + If we simply looked to the fabric of the world; +</pre> + <p> + Shakespeare: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + And, like the baseless fabric of a vision. +</pre> + <p> + Bacon: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The intellectual light in the top and consummation of thy +workmanship; +</pre> + <p> + Shakespeare: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Like eyasses that cry out on the top of the question. +</pre> + <p> + Myriads of pages of such matter would carry no proof. Probably the hugest + collection of such ‘parallels’ is that preserved by Mrs. Pott in Bacon’s + ‘Promus,’ a book of 628 pages. Mrs. Pott’s ‘sole object’ in publishing + ‘was to confirm the growing belief in Bacon’s authorship of the plays.’ + Having acquired the opinion, she laboured to strengthen herself and others + in the faith. The so-called ‘Promus’ is a manuscript set of notes, + quotations, formulae, and proverbs. As Mr. Spedding says, there are ‘forms + of compliment, application, excuse, repartee, etc.’ ‘The collection is + from books which were then in every scholar’s hands.’ ‘The proverbs may + all, or nearly all, be found in the common collections.’ Mrs. Pott remarks + that in ‘Promus’ are ‘several hundreds of notes of which no trace has been + discovered in the acknowledged writings of Bacon, or of any other + contemporary writer but Shakespeare.’ She adds that the theory of ‘close + intercourse’ between the two men is ‘contrary to all evidence.’ She then + infers that ‘Bacon alone wrote all the plays and sonnets which are + attributed to Shakespeare.’ So Bacon entrusted his plays, and the dread + secret of his authorship, to a boorish cabotin with whom he had no ‘close + intercourse’! This is lady’s logic, a contradiction in terms. The theory + that Bacon wrote the plays and sonnets inevitably implies the closest + intercourse between him and Shakespeare. They must have been in constant + connection. But, as Mrs. Pott truly says, this is ‘contrary to all + evidence.’ + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the best way to deal with Mrs. Pott is to cite the author of her + preface, Dr. Abbott. He is not convinced, but he is much struck by a very + exquisite argument of the lady’s. Bacon in ‘Promus’ is writing down + ‘Formularies and Elegancies,’ modes of salutation. He begins with ‘Good + morrow!’ This original remark, Mrs. Pott reckons, ‘occurs in the plays + nearly a hundred times. In the list of upwards of six thousand words in + Appendix E, “Good morrow” has been noted thirty-one times.... “Good + morrow” may have become familiar merely by means of “Romeo and Juliet.”’ + Dr. Abbott is so struck by this valuable statement that he writes: ‘There + remains the question, Why did Bacon think it worth while to write down in + a notebook the phrase “Good morrow” if it was at that time in common use?’ + </p> + <p> + Bacon wrote down ‘Good morrow’ just because it WAS in common use. All the + formulae were in common use; probably ‘Golden sleepe’ was a regular wish, + like ‘Good rest.’ Bacon is making a list of commonplaces about beginning + the day, about getting out of bed, about sleep. Some are in English, some + in various other languages. He is not, as in Mrs. Pott’s ingenious theory, + making notes of novelties to be introduced through his plays. He is + cataloguing the commonplace. It is Mrs. Pott’s astonishing contention, as + we have seen, that Bacon probably introduced the phrase ‘Good morrow!’ Mr. + Bucke, following her in a magazine article, says: ‘These forms of + salutation were not in use in England before Bacon’s time, and it was his + entry of them in the “Promus” and use of them in the plays that makes them + current coin day by day with us in the nineteenth century.’ This is + ignorant nonsense. ‘Good morrow’ and ‘Good night’ were as familiar before + Bacon or Shakespeare wrote as ‘Good morning’ and ‘Good night’ are to-day. + This we can demonstrate. The very first Elizabethan handbook of phrases + which we consult shows that ‘Good morrow’ was the stock phrase in regular + use in 1583. The book is ‘The French Littelton, A most Easie, Perfect, and + Absolute way to learne the Frenche Tongue. Set forth by Claudius Holyband. + Imprinted at London by Thomas Vautrollier, dwelling in the blacke-Friers. + 1583.’ (There is an edition of 1566.) + </p> + <p> + On page 10 we read:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Of Scholars and Schoole. +</pre> + <p> + ‘God give you good morrow, Sir! Good morrow gossip: good morrow my she + gossip: God give you a good morrow and a good year.’ + </p> + <p> + Thus the familiar salutation was not introduced by Bacon; it was, on the + other hand, the very first formula which a writer of an English-French + phrase-book translated into French ten years before Bacon made his notes. + Presently he comes to ‘Good evening, good night, good rest,’ and so on. + </p> + <p> + This fact annihilates Mrs. Pott’s contention that Bacon introduced ‘Good + morrow’ through the plays falsely attributed to Shakespeare. There + follows, in ‘Promus,’ a string of proverbs, salutations, and quotations, + about sleep and waking. Among these occur ‘Golden Sleepe’ (No. 1207) and + (No. 1215) ‘Uprouse. You are up.’ Now Friar Laurence says to Romeo:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + But where unbruised youth with unstuffed brain + Doth couch his limbs, there GOLDEN SLEEP doth reign: + Therefore thy earliness doth me assure, + Thou art UP-ROUSED by some distemperature. +</pre> + <p> + Dr. Abbott writes: ‘Mrs. Pott’s belief is that the play is indebted for + these expressions to the “Promus;” mine is that the “Promus” is borrowed + from the play.’ And why should either owe anything to the other? The + phrase ‘Uprouse’ or ‘Uprose’ is familiar in Chaucer, from one of his + best-known lines. ‘Golden’ is a natural poetic adjective of excellence, + from Homer to Tennyson. Yet in Dr. Abbott’s opinion ‘TWO of these entries + constitute a coincidence amounting almost to a demonstration’ that either + Shakespeare or Bacon borrowed from the other. And this because each + writer, one in making notes of commonplaces on sleep, the other in a + speech about sleep, uses the regular expression ‘Uprouse,’ and the + poetical commonplace ‘Golden sleep’ for ‘Good rest.’ There was no + originality in the matter. + </p> + <p> + We have chosen Dr. Abbott’s selected examples of Mrs. Pott’s triumphs. + Here is another of her parallels. Bacon gives the formula, ‘I pray God + your early rising does you no hurt.’ Shakespeare writes:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Go, you cot-quean, go, + Get you to bed; faith, you’ll be sick to-morrow + For this night’s watching. +</pre> + <p> + Here Bacon notes a morning salutation, ‘I hope you are none the worse for + early rising,’ while Shakespeare tells somebody not to sit up late. + Therefore, and for similar reasons, Bacon is Shakespeare. + </p> + <p> + We are not surprised to find Mr. Bucke adopting Mrs. Pott’s theory of the + novelty of ‘Good morrow.’ He writes in the Christmas number of an + illustrated sixpenny magazine, and his article, a really masterly + compendium of the whole Baconian delirium, addresses its natural public. + But we are amazed to find Dr. Abbott looking not too unkindly on such + imbecilities, and marching at least in the direction of Coventry with such + a regiment. He is ‘on one point a convert’ to Mrs. Pott, and that point is + the business of ‘Good morrow,’ ‘Uprouse,’ and ‘Golden sleepe.’ It need + hardly be added that the intrepid Mr. Donnelly is also a firm adherent of + Mrs. Pott. + </p> + <p> + ‘Some idea,’ he says, ‘may be formed of the marvellous industry of this + remarkable lady when I state that to prove that we are indebted to Bacon + for having enriched the English language, through the plays, with these + beautiful courtesies of speech, ‘Good morrow,’ ‘Good day,’ etc., she + carefully examined SIX THOUSAND WORKS ANTERIOR TO OR CONTEMPORARY WITH + BACON.’ + </p> + <p> + Dr. Abbott thought it judicious to ‘hedge’ about these six thousand works, + and await ‘the all-knowing dictionary’ of Dr. Murray and the Clarendon + Press. We have deemed it simpler to go to the first Elizabethan + phrase-book on our shelves, and that tiny volume, in its very first + phrase, shatters the mare’s-nest of Mrs. Pott, Mr. Donnelly, and Mr. + Bucke. + </p> + <p> + But why, being a great poet, should Bacon conceal the fact, and choose as + a mask a man whom, on the hypothesis of his ignorance, every one that knew + him must have detected as an impostor? Now, one great author did choose to + conceal his identity, though he never shifted the burden of the ‘Waverley + Novels’ on to Terry the actor. Bacon may, conceivably, have had Scott’s + pleasure in secrecy, but Bacon selected a mask much more impossible (on + the theory) than Terry would have been for Scott. Again, Sir Walter Scott + took pains to make his identity certain, by an arrangement with Constable, + and by preserving his manuscripts, and he finally confessed. Bacon never + confessed, and no documentary traces of his authorship survive. Scott, + writing anonymously, quoted his own poems in the novels, an obvious + ‘blind.’ Bacon, less crafty, never (as far as we are aware) mentions + Shakespeare. + </p> + <p> + It is arguable, of course, that to write plays might seem dangerous to + Bacon’s professional and social position. The reasons which might make a + lawyer keep his dramatic works a secret could not apply to ‘Lucrece.’ A + lawyer, of good birth, if he wrote plays at all, would certainly not vamp + up old stock pieces. That was the work of a ‘Johannes Factotum,’ of a + ‘Shakescene,’ as Greene says, of a man who occupied the same position in + his theatrical company as Nicholas Nickleby did in that of Mr. Crummles. + Nicholas had to bring in the vulgar pony, the Phenomenon, the buckets, and + so forth. So, in early years, the author of the plays (Bacon, by the + theory) had to work over old pieces. All this is the work of the hack of a + playing company; it is not work to which a man in Bacon’s position could + stoop. Why should he? What had he to gain by patching and vamping? + Certainly not money, if the wealth of Shakespeare is a dark mystery to the + Baconian theorists. We are asked to believe that Bacon, for the sake of + some five or six pounds, toiled at refashioning old plays, and handed the + fair manuscripts to Shakespeare, who passed them off, among the actors who + knew him intimately, as his own. THEY detected no incongruity between the + player who was their Johannes Factotum and the plays which he gave in to + the manager. They seemed to be just the kind of work which Shakespeare + would be likely to write. BE LIKELY TO WRITE, but ‘the father of the + rest,’ Mr. Smith, believed that Shakespeare COULD NOT WRITE AT ALL. + </p> + <p> + We live in the Ages of Faith, of faith in fudge. Mr. Smith was certain, + and Mr. Bucke is inclined to suspect, that when Bacon wanted a mask he + chose, as a plausible author of the plays, a man who could not write. Mr. + Smith was certain, and Mr. Bucke must deem it possible, that Shakespeare’s + enemy, Greene, that his friends, Jonson, Burbage, Heming, and the other + actors, and that his critics and admirers, Francis Meres and others, + accepted, as author of the pieces which they played in or applauded, a man + who could write no more than his name. Such was the tool whom Bacon found + eligible, and so easily gulled was the literary world of Eliza and our + James. And Bacon took all this trouble for what reason? To gain five or + six pounds, or as much of that sum as Shakespeare would let him keep. Had + Bacon been possessed by the ambition to write plays he would always have + written original dramas, he would not have assumed the part of Nicholas + Nickleby. + </p> + <p> + There is no human nature in this nonsense. An ambitious lawyer passes his + nights in retouching stock pieces, from which he can reap neither fame nor + profit. He gives his work to a second-rate illiterate actor, who adopts it + as his own. Bacon is so enamoured of this method that he publishes ‘Venus + and Adonis’ and ‘Lucrece’ under the name of his actor friend. Finally, he + commits to the actor’s care all his sonnets to the Queen, to Gloriana, and + for years these manuscript poems are handed about by Shakespeare, as his + own, among the actors, hack scribblers, and gay young nobles of his + acquaintance. They ‘chaff’ Shakespeare about his affection for his + ‘sovereign;’ great Gloriana’s praises are stained with sack in taverns, + and perfumed with the Indian weed. And Bacon, careful toiler after Court + favour, ‘thinks it all wery capital,’ in the words of Mr. Weller pere. + Moreover, nobody who hears Shakespeare talk and sees him smile has any + doubt that he is the author of the plays and amorous fancies of Bacon. + </p> + <p> + It is needless to dwell on the pother made about the missing manuscripts + of Shakespeare. ‘The original manuscripts, of course, Bacon would take + care to destroy,’ says Mr. Holmes, ‘if determined that the secret should + die with him.’ If he was so determined, for what earthly reason did he + pass his valuable time in vamping up old plays and writing new ones? + ‘There was no money in it,’ and there was no reason. But, if he was not + determined that the secret should die with him, why did not he, like + Scott, preserve the manuscripts? The manuscripts are where Marlowe’s and + where Moliere’s are, by virtue of a like neglect. Where are the MSS. of + any of the great Elizabethans? We really cannot waste time over Mr. + Donnelly’s theory of a Great Cryptogram, inserted by Bacon, as proof of + his claim, in the multitudinous errors of the Folio. Mr. Bucke, too, has + his Anagram, the deathless discovery of Dr. Platt, of Lakewood, New + Jersey. By manipulating the scraps of Latin in ‘Love’s Labour’s Lost,’ he + extracts ‘Hi Ludi tuiti sibi Fr. Bacono nati’: ‘These plays, entrusted to + themselves, proceeded from Fr. Bacon.’ It is magnificent, but it is not + Latin. Had Bacon sent in such Latin at school, he would never have + survived to write the ‘Novum Organon’ and his sonnets to Queen Elizabeth. + In that stern age they would have ‘killed him—with wopping.’ That + Bacon should be a vamper and a playwright for no appreciable profit, that, + having produced his deathless works, he should make no sign, has, in fact, + staggered even the great credulity of Baconians. He MUST, they think, have + made a sign in cipher. Out of the mass of the plays, anagrams and + cryptograms can be fashioned a plaisir, and the world has heard too much + of Mrs. Gallup, while the hunt for hints in contemporary frontispieces led + to mistaking the porcupine of Sidney’s crest for ‘a hanged hog’ (Bacon). + </p> + <p> + The theory of the Baconian authorship of Shakespeare’s plays and poems has + its most notable and recent British advocate in His Honour Judge Webb, + sometime Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin, Regius Professor of Laws, and + Public Orator in the University of Dublin. Judge Webb, as a scholar and a + man used to weighing evidence, puts the case at its strongest. His work, + ‘The Mystery of William Shakespeare’ (1902), rests much on the old + argument about the supposed ignorance of Shakespeare, and the supposed + learning of the author of the plays. Judge Webb, like his predecessors, + does not take into account the wide diffusion of a kind of classical and + pseudo-scientific knowledge among all Elizabethan writers, and bases + theories on manifest misconceptions of Shakespearean and other texts. His + book, however, has affected the opinions of some readers who do not verify + his references and examine the mass of Elizabethan literature for + themselves. + </p> + <p> + Judge Webb, in his ‘Proem,’ refers to Mr. Holmes and Mr. Donnelly as + ‘distinguished writers,’ who ‘have received but scant consideration from + the accredited organs of opinion on this side of the Atlantic.’ Their + theories have not been more favourably considered by Shakespearean + scholars on the other side of the Atlantic, and how much consideration + they deserve we have tried to show. The Irish Judge opens his case by + noting an essential distinction between ‘Shakspere,’ the actor, and + ‘Shakespeare,’ the playwright. The name, referring to the man who was both + actor and author, is spelled both ‘Shakspeare’ and ‘Shakespeare’ in the + ‘Returne from Parnassus’ (1602).* The ‘school of critics’ which divides + the substance of Shakespeare on the strength of the spelling of a proper + name, in the casual times of great Elizabeth, need not detain the + inquirer. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *The Returne from Parnassus, pp. 56,57,138. Oxford, 1886. +</pre> + <p> + As to Shakespeare’s education, Judge Webb admits that ‘there was a grammar + school in the place.’ As its registers of pupils have not survived, we + cannot prove that Shakespeare went to the school. Mr. Collins shows that + the Headmaster was a Fellow of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, and + describes the nature of the education, mainly in Latin, as, according to + the standard of the period, it ought to have been.* There is no doubt that + if Shakespeare attended the school (the age of entry was eight), minded + his book, and had ‘a good sprag memory,’ he might have learned Latin. Mr. + Collins commends the Latin of two Stratford contemporaries and friends of + Shakespeare, Sturley and Quiney, who probably were educated at the Grammar + School. Judge Webb disparages their lore, and, on the evidence of the + epistles, says that Sturley and Quiney ‘were not men of education.’ If + Judge Webb had compared the original letters of distinguished Elizabethan + officials and diplomatists—say, Sir William Drury, the Commandant of + Berwick—he would have found that Sturley and Quiney were at least on + the ordinary level of education in the upper classes. But the whole method + of the Baconians rests on neglecting such comparisons. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Fortnightly Review, April 1903. +</pre> + <p> + In a letter of Sturley’s, eximiae is spelled eximie, without the digraph, + a thing then most usual, and no disproof of Sturley’s Latinity.* The + Shakspearean hypothesis is that Shakespeare was rather a cleverer man than + Quiney and Sturley, and, consequently, that, if he went to school, he + probably learned more by a great deal than they did. There was no reason + why he should not acquire Latin enough to astonish modern reviewers, who + have often none at all. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Webb, p. 14. Phillipps’s Outlines of the Life of Shakespeare, i. p. +150, ii. p. 57. +</pre> + <p> + Judge Webb then discusses the learning of Shakespeare, and easily shows + that he was full of mythological lore. So was all Elizabethan literature. + Every English scribbler then knew what most men have forgotten now. Nobody + was forced to go to the original authorities—say, Plato, Herodotus, + and Plutarch—for what was accessible in translations, or had long + before been copiously decanted into English prose and poetry. Shakespeare + could get Rhodope, not from Pliny, but from B. R.‘s lively translation + (1584) of the first two books of Herodotus. ‘Even Launcelot Gobbo talks of + Scylla and Charybdis,’ says Judge Webb. Who did not? Had the Gobbos not + known about Scylla and Charybdis, Shakespeare would not have lent them the + knowledge. + </p> + <p> + The mythological legends were ‘in the air,’ familiar to all the + Elizabethan world. These allusions are certainly no proof ‘of trained + scholarship or scientific education.’ In five years of contact with the + stage, with wits, with writers for the stage, with older plays, with + patrons of the stage, with Templars, and so on, a man of talent could + easily pick up the ‘general information’—now caviare to the general—which + a genius like Shakespeare inevitably absorbed. + </p> + <p> + We naturally come to Greene’s allusion to ‘Shakescene’ (1592), concerning + which a schoolboy said, in an examination, ‘We are tired to death with + hearing about it.’ Greene conspicuously insults ‘Shakescene’ both as a + writer and an actor. Judge Webb says: ‘As Mr. Phillipps justly observes, + it’ (one of Greene’s allusions) ‘merely conveys that Shakspere was one who + acted in the plays of which Greene and his three friends were the authors + (ii. 269).’ + </p> + <p> + It is necessary to verify the Judge’s reference. Mr. Phillipps writes: + ‘Taking Greene’s words in their contextual and natural sense, he first + alludes to Shakespeare as an actor, one “beautified with our feathers,” + that is, one who acts in their plays; THEN TO THE POET as a writer just + commencing to try his hand at blank verse, and, finally, to him as not + only engaged in both those capacities, but in any other in which he might + be useful to the company.’ Mr. Phillipps adds that Greene’s quotation of + the line ‘TYGER’S HEART WRAPT IN A PLAYER’S HIDE’ ‘is a decisive proof of + Shakespeare’s authorship of the line.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Webb, p. 57. Phillipps, ii. p. 269. +</pre> + <p> + Judge Webb has manifestly succeeded in not appreciating Mr. Phillipps’s + plain English. He says, with obvious truth, that Greene attacks + Shakespeare both as actor and poet, but Judge Webb puts the matter thus: + ‘The language of Greene... as Mr. Phillipps justly observes, merely + conveys that Shakspere was one who acted in the plays of which Greene and + his three friends were authors.’ + </p> + <p> + The language of Greene IN ONE PART OF HIS TIRADE, ‘an upstart crow + beautified in our feathers,’ probably refers to Shakespeare as an actor + only, but Greene goes on to insult him as a writer. Judge Webb will not + recognise him as a writer, and omits that part of Mr. Phillipps’s opinion. + </p> + <p> + There followed Chettle’s well-known apology (1592), as editor of Greene’s + sally, to Shakespeare. Chettle speaks of his excellence ‘in the quality he + professes,’ and of his ‘facetious grace in writing, that approves his + art,’ this on the authority of ‘the report of divers of worship.’ + </p> + <p> + This proves, of course, that Shakespeare was a writer as well as an actor, + and Judge Webb can only murmur that ‘we are “left to guess” who divers of + worship’ were, and ‘what motive’ they had for praising his ‘facetious + grace in writing.’ The obvious motive was approval of the work, for work + there WAS, and, as to who the ‘divers’ were, nobody knows. + </p> + <p> + The evidence that, IN THE OPINION OF GREENE, CHETTLE, AND ‘DIVERS OF + WORSHIP,’ Shakespeare was a writer as well as an actor is absolutely + irrefragable. Had Shakespeare been the ignorant lout of the Baconian + theorists, these men would not have credited him, for example, with his + first signed and printed piece, ‘Venus and Adonis.’ It appeared early in + 1593, and Greene and Chettle wrote in 1592. ‘Divers of worship,’ according + to the custom of the time, may have seen ‘Venus and Adonis’ in manuscript. + It was printed by Richard Field, a Stratford-on-Avon man, as was natural, + a Stratford-on-Avon man being the author.* It was dedicated, in stately + but not servile courtesy, to the Earl of Southampton, by ‘William + Shakespeare.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Phillipps, i. p. 101. +</pre> + <p> + Judge Webb asks: ‘Was it a pseudonym, or was it the real name of the + author of the poem?’ Well, Shakespeare signs ‘Shakspere’ in two deeds, in + which the draftsman throughout calls him ‘Shakespeare:’ obviously taking + no difference.* People were not particular, Shakespeare let them spell his + name as best pleased them. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Phillipps, ii. pp. 34, 36. +</pre> + <p> + Judge Webb argues that Southampton ‘took no notice’ of the dedication. How + can he know? Ben Jonson dedicated to Lady Wroth and many others. Does + Judge Webb know what ‘notice’ they took? He says that on various occasions + ‘Southampton did not recognise the existence of the Player.’ How can he + know? I have dedicated books to dozens of people. Probably they ‘took + notice,’ but no record thereof exists. The use of arguments of this kind + demonstrates the feebleness of the case. + </p> + <p> + That Southampton, however, DID ‘take notice’ may be safely inferred from + the fact that Shakespeare, in 1594, dedicated to him ‘The Rape of + Lucrece.’ Had the Earl been an ungrateful patron, had he taken no notice, + Shakespeare had Latin enough to act on the motto Invenies alium si te hic + fastidit Alexin. He speaks of ‘the warrant I have of your honourable + disposition,’ which makes the poem ‘assured of acceptance.’ This could + never have been written had the dedication of ‘Venus and Adonis’ been + disdained. ‘The client never acknowledged his obligation to the patron,’ + says Judge Webb. The dedication of ‘Lucrece’ is acknowledgment enough. The + Judge ought to think so, for he speaks, with needless vigour, of ‘the + protestations, warm and gushing as a geyser, of “The Rape.”’ There is + nothing ‘warm,’ and nothing ‘gushing,’ in the dedication of ‘Lucrece’ + (granting the style of the age), but, if it were as the Judge says, here, + indeed, would be the client’s ‘acknowledgment,’ which, the Judge says, was + never made.* To argue against such logic seems needless, and even cruel, + but judicial contentions appear to deserve a reply. + </p> + <p> + Webb, p. 67. + </p> + <p> + We now come to the evidence of the Rev. Francis Meres, in ‘Palladis Tamia’ + (1598). Meres makes ‘Shakespeare among the English’ the rival, in comedy + and tragedy, of Plautus and Seneca ‘among the Latines.’ He names twelve + plays, of which ‘Love’s Labour’s Won’ is unknown. ‘The soul of Ovid’ lives + in his ‘Venus and Adonis,’ his ‘Lucrece,’ and his ‘sugred sonnets among + his private friends.’ Meres also mentions Sidney, Spenser, Daniel, + Drayton, and so forth, a long string of English poetic names, ending with + ‘Samuel Page, sometime Fellow of C.C.C. in Oxford, Churchyard, Bretton.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Phillipps, ii. pp. 149,150. +</pre> + <p> + Undeniably Meres, in 1598, recognises Shakespeare as both playwright and + poet. So Judge Webb can only reply: ‘But who this mellifluous and + honey-tongued Shakespeare was he does not say, AND HE DOES NOT PRETEND TO + KNOW.‘* He does not ‘pretend to know’ ‘who’ any of the poets was—except + Samuel Page, and he was a Fellow of Corpus. He speaks of Shakespeare just + as he does of Marlowe, Kid, Chapman, and the others whom he mentions. He + ‘does not pretend to know who’ they were. Every reader knew who they all + were. If I write of Mr. Swinburne or Mr. Pinero, of Mr. Browning or of Mr. + Henry Jones, I do not say ‘who they were,’ I do not ‘pretend to know.’ + There was no Shakespeare in the literary world of London but the one + Shakespeare, ‘Burbage’s deserving man.’ + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Webb, p. 71. +</pre> + <p> + The next difficulty is that Shakespeare’s company, by request of the Essex + conspirators (who paid 2 pounds), acted ‘Richard II.’ just before their + foolish attempt (February 7, 1601). ‘If Coke,’ says the Judge, ‘had the + faintest idea that the player’ (Shakespeare) ‘was the author of “Richard + II.,” he would not have hesitated a moment to lay him by the heels.’ Why, + the fact of Shakespeare’s authorship had been announced, in print, by + Meres, in 1598. Coke knew, if he cared to know. Judge Webb goes on: ‘And + that the Player’ (Shakespeare) ‘was not regarded as the author by the + Queen is proved by the fact that, with his company, he performed before + the Court at Richmond, on the evening before the execution of the Earl.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Webb, pp. 72, 73. +</pre> + <p> + Nothing of the kind is proved. The guilt, if any, lay, not in writing the + drama—by 1601 ‘olde and outworne’—but in acting it, on the eve + of an intended revolution. This error Elizabeth overlooked, and with it + the innocent authorship of the piece, ‘now olde and outworne.‘* It is not + even certain, in Mr. Phillipps’s opinion, that the ‘olde and outworne’ + play was that of Shakespeare. It is perfectly certain that, as Elizabeth + overlooked the fault of the players, she would not attack the author of a + play written years before Essex’s plot, with no political intentions. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Phillipps, ii. pp. 359-362. +</pre> + <p> + We now come to evidence of which Judge Webb says very little, that of the + two plays acted at St. John’s College, Cambridge, in 1600-1601, known as + ‘The Returne from Parnassus.’ These pieces prove that Shakespeare the poet + was identified with Shakespeare the player. They also prove that + Shakespeare’s scholarship and art were held very cheaply by the University + wits, who, as always, were disdainful of non-University men. His + popularity is undisputed, but his admirer in the piece, Gullio, is a + vapouring ignoramus, who pretends to have been at the University of Padua, + but knows no more Latin than many modern critics. Gullio rants thus: + ‘Pardon, faire lady, though sicke-thoughted Gullio makes amaine unto thee, + and LIKE A BOULD-FACED SUTOR ‘GINS TO WOO THEE.’ This, of course, is from + ‘Venus and Adonis.’ Ingenioso says, aside: ‘We shall have nothinge but + pure Shakespeare and shreds of poetry that he hath gathered at the + theaters.’ Gullio next mouths a reminiscence of ‘Romeo and Juliet,’ and + Ingenioso whispers, ‘Marke, Romeo and Juliet, O monstrous theft;’ however, + aloud, he says ‘Sweete Mr. Shakspeare!’—the spelling varies. Gullio + continues to praise sweete Mr. Shakspeare above Spenser and Chaucer. ‘Let + mee heare Mr. Shakspear’s veyne.’ Judge Webb does not cite these passages, + which identify Shakspeare (or Shakespeare) with the poet of ‘Venus and + Adonis’ and ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ + </p> + <p> + In the second ‘Returne,’ Burbage and Kemp, the noted morrice dancer and + clown of Shakespeare’s company, are introduced. ‘Few of the University men + pen plays well,’ says Kemp; ‘they smack too much of that writer Ovid, and + that writer Metamorphosis, and talke too much of Proserpina and Jupiter. + Why here’s our fellow Shakespeare’ (fellow is used in the sense of + companion), ‘puts them all downe, ay, and Ben Jonson too. O that Ben + Jonson is a pestilent fellow; he brought up Horace giving the Poets a + pill, but our fellow Shakespeare hath given him a purge that made him + bewray his credit.’ At Burbage’s request, one of the University men then + recites two lines of ‘Richard III.,’ by the poet of his company. + </p> + <p> + Ben, according to Judge Webb, ‘bewrayed his credit’ in ‘The Poetaster,’ + 1601-1602, where Pantalabus ‘was meant for Shakspere.‘* If so, Pantalabus + is described as one who ‘pens high, lofty, and in a new stalking strain,’ + and if Shakespeare is the Poet Ape of Jonson’s epigram, why then Jonson + regards him as a writer, not merely as an actor. No amount of evil that + angry Ben could utter about the plays, while Shakespeare lived, and, + perhaps, was for a time at odds with him, can obliterate the praises which + the same Ben wrote in his milder mood. The charge against Poet Ape is a + charge of plagiarism, such as unpopular authors usually make against those + who are popular. Judge Webb has to suppose that Jonson, when he storms, + raves against some ‘works’ at that time somehow associated with + Shakespeare; and that, when he praises, he praises the divine masterpieces + of Bacon. But we know what plays really were attributed to Shakespeare, + then as now, while no other ‘works’ of a contemptible character, + attributed to Shakespeare, are to be heard of anywhere. Judge Webb does + not pretend to know what the things were to which the angry Jonson + referred.** If he really aimed his stupid epigram at Shakespeare, he + obviously alluded to the works which were then, and now are, recognised as + Shakespeare’s; but in his wrath he denounced them. ‘Potter is jealous of + potter, poet of poet’—it is an old saying of the Greek. There was + perhaps some bitterness between Jonson and Shakespeare about 1601; Ben + made an angry epigram, perhaps against Shakespeare, and thought it good + enough to appear in his collected epigrams in 1616, the year of + Shakespeare’s death. By that time the application to Shakespeare, if to + him the epigram applied, might, in Ben’s opinion perhaps, be forgotten by + readers. In any case, Ben, according to Drummond of Hawthornden, was one + who preferred his jest to his friend. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Webb, pp. 114-116. + + **Webb, pp. 116-119. +</pre> + <p> + Judge Webb’s hypothesis is that Ben, in Shakespeare’s lifetime, especially + in 1600-1601, spoke evil of his works, though he allowed that they might + endure to ‘after-times’— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Aftertimes + May judge it to be his, as well as ours. +</pre> + <p> + But these works (wholly unknown) were not (on the Judge’s theory) the + works which, after Shakespeare’s death, Ben praised, as his, in verse; + and, more critically, praised in prose: the works, that is, which the + world has always regarded as Shakespeare’s. THESE were Bacon’s, and Ben + knew it on Judge Webb’s theory. Here Judge Webb has, of course, to deal + with Ben’s explicit declarations, in the First Folio, that the works which + he praises are by Shakespeare. The portrait, says Ben, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Was for gentle Shakespeare cut. +</pre> + <p> + Judge Webb then assures us, to escape this quandary, that ‘in the Sonnets + “the gentle Shakespeare himself informs us that Shakespeare was not his + real name, but the “noted weed” in which he “kept invention.”’ * The author + of the Sonnets does nothing of the kind. Judge Webb has merely + misconstrued his text. The passage which he so quaintly misinterprets + occurs in Sonnet lxxvi.: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Why is my verse so barren of new pride? + So far from variation or quick change? + Why, with the time, do I not glance aside + To new-found methods, and to compounds strange? + WHY WRITE I STILL ALL ONE, EVER THE SAME, + AND KEEP INVENTION IN A NOTED WEED, + THAT EVERY WORD DOES ALMOST TELL MY NAME, + SHOWING THEIR BIRTH AND WHENCE THEY DO PROCEED? + Oh, know, sweet love, I always write of you, + And you and love are still my argument; + So all my best is dressing old words new, + Spending again what is already spent: + For as the sun is daily new and old, + So is my love still telling what is told. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Webb, pp. 125,156,235,264. Judge Webb is fond of his discovery. +</pre> + <p> + The lines capitalised are thus explained by the Judge: ‘Here the author + certainly intimates that Shakespeare is not his real name, and that he was + fearful lest his real name should be discovered.’ The author says nothing + about Shakespeare not being his real name, nor about his fear lest his + real name should be discovered. He even ‘quibbles on his own Christian + name,’ WILL, as Mr. Phillipps and everyone else have noted. What he means + is: ‘Why am I so monotonous that every word almost tells my name?’ ‘To + keep invention in a noted weed’ means, of course, to present his genius + always in the same well-known attire. There is nothing about disguise of a + name, or of anything else, in the sonnet.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Webb, pp. 64,156. +</pre> + <p> + But Judge Webb assures us that Shakespeare himself informs us in the + sonnets that ‘Shakespeare was not his real name, but the noted weed in + which he kept invention.’ As this is most undeniably not the case, it + cannot aid his effort to make out that, in the Folio, by the name of + Shakespeare, Ben Jonson means another person. + </p> + <p> + In the Folio verses, ‘To the Memory of my Beloved, Mr. William + Shakespeare, and What he has Left Us,’ Judge Webb finds many mysterious + problems. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Soul of the Age, + The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage, + My Shakespeare, rise! +</pre> + <p> + By a pun, Ben speaks of Shakespeare as + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + shaking a lance + As brandish’t at the eyes of Ignorance. +</pre> + <p> + The pun does not fit the name of—Bacon! The apostrophe to ‘sweet + Swan of Avon’ hardly applies to Bacon either; he was not a Swan of Avon. + It were a sight, says Ben, to see the Swan ‘in our waters yet appear,’ and + Judge Webb actually argues that Shakespeare was dead, and could not + appear, so somebody else must be meant! ‘No poet that ever lived would be + mad enough to talk of a swan as YET appearing, and resuming its flights, + upon the river some seven or eight years after it was dead.‘* The Judge is + like the Scottish gentleman who when Lamb, invited to meet Burns’s sons, + said he wished it were their father, solemnly replied that this could not + be, for Burns was dead. Wordsworth, in a sonnet, like Glengarry at + Sheriffmuir, sighed for ‘one hour of Dundee!’ The poet, and the chief, + must have been mad, in Judge Webb’s opinion, for Dundee had fallen long + ago, in the arms of victory. A theory which not only rests on such + arguments as Judge Webb’s, but takes it for granted that Bacon might be + addressed as ‘sweet Swan of Avon,’ is conspicuously impossible. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Webb, p. 134. +</pre> + <p> + Another of the Judge’s arguments reposes on a misconception which has been + exposed again and again. In his Memorial verses Ben gives to Shakespeare + the palm for POETRY: to Bacon for ELOQUENCE, in the ‘Discoveries.’ Both + may stand the comparison with ‘insolent Greece or haughty Rome.’ + Shakespeare is not mentioned with Bacon in the ‘Scriptorum Catalogus’ of + the ‘Discoveries’: but no more is any dramatic author or any poet, as a + poet. Hooker, Essex, Egerton, Sandys, Sir Nicholas Bacon are chosen, not + Spenser, Marlowe, or Shakespeare. All this does not go far to prove that + when Ben praised ‘the wonder of our stage,’ ‘sweet Swan of Avon,’ he meant + Bacon, not Shakespeare. + </p> + <p> + When Judge Webb argued that in matters of science (‘falsely so called’) + Bacon and Shakespeare were identical, Professor Tyrrell, of Trinity + College, Dublin, was shaken, and said so, in ‘The Pilot.’ Professor Dowden + then proved, in ‘The National Review,’ that both Shakespeare and Bacon + used the widely spread pseudo-scientific ideas of their time (as is + conspicuously the case), and Mr. Tyrrell confessed that he was sorry he + had spoken. ‘When I read Professor Dowden’s article, I would gladly have + recalled my own, but it was too late.’ Mr. Tyrrell adds, with an + honourable naivete, ‘I AM NOT VERSED IN THE LITERATURE OF THE + SHAKESPEAREAN ERA, and I assumed that the Baconians who put forward the + parallelisms had satisfied themselves that the coincidences were peculiar + to the writings of the philosopher and the poet. Professor Dowden has + proved that this is not so....’ Professor Dowden has indeed proved, in + copious and minute detail, what was already obvious to every student who + knew even such ordinary Elizabethan books as Lyly’s ‘Euphues’ and Phil + Holland’s ‘Pliny,’ and the speculations of such earlier writers as + Paracelsus. Bacon and Shakespeare, like other Elizabethans, accepted the + popular science of their period, and decorated their pages with queer + ideas about beasts, and stones, and plants; which were mere folklore. A + sensible friend of my own was staggered, if not converted, by the + parallelisms adduced in Judge Webb’s chapter ‘Of Bacon as a Man of + Science.’ I told him that the parallelisms were Elizabethan commonplaces, + and were not peculiar to Bacon and Shakespeare. Professor Dowden, out of + the fulness of his reading, corroborated this obiter dictum, and his + article (in ‘The National Review,’ vol. xxxix., 1902) absolutely disposes + of the Judge’s argument. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tyrrell went on: ‘The evidence of Ben Jonson alone seems decisive of + the question; the other’ (the Judge, for one) ‘persuades himself (how, I + cannot understand) that it may be explained away.‘* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *Pilot, August 30, 1902, p. 220. +</pre> + <p> + We have seen how Judge Webb ‘explains away’ the evidence of Ben. But while + people ‘not versed in the literature of the Shakespearean era’ assume that + the Baconians have examined it, to discover whether Shakespearo-Baconian + parallelisms are peculiar to these two writers or not, these people may + fall into the error confessed by Mr. Tyrrell. + </p> + <p> + Some excuse is needed for arguing on the Baconian doctrine. ‘There is much + doubt and misgiving on the subject among serious men,’ says Judge Webb, + and if a humble author can, by luck, allay the doubts of a single serious + man, he should not regret his labour. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Valet’s Tragedy and Other Stories, by +Andrew Lang + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VALET’S TRAGEDY *** + +***** This file should be named 2073-h.htm or 2073-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/7/2073/ + +Produced by Les Bowler and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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