RUMOURS AND CONJECTURES
1
Very little of what had actually occurred came to the ear of the Public. In fact, not one Man in ten in the whole of the Cities of London and Westminster knew that a couple of hours before midnight, when most simple and honest Citizens were retiring to their beds, a batch of dangerous Conspirators had been arrested even within the Precincts of White Hall.
I heard all that there was to know from Mr. Betterton, who went out early the following Morning and returned fully informed of the events of the preceding Night. Subsequently too, I gleaned a good deal of information through the instrumentality of Mistress Floid. As far as I could gather, the Conspirators did carry out their Project just as they had decided on it in my Presence. They did assemble in King Street and in the by-lanes leading out of it, keeping my Lady Castlemaine's House in sight, whilst others succeeded in Concealing themselves about the Gardens of White Hall, no doubt with the Aid of treacherous and suborned Watchmen.
The striking of the hour of ten was to be the signal for immediate and concerted Action. Those in the Gardens stood by on the watch, until after His Majesty the King had walked across from his Palace to Her Ladyship's House. His Majesty, as was his wont when supping with Lady Castlemaine, entered her house by the back door, and his Servants followed him into the house.
Then the Conspirators waited for the Hour to strike. Directly the last clang of church bells had ceased to reverberate through the humid evening air, they advanced both from the Back and the Front of the House simultaneously, when they were set upon on the one side by a Company of His Majesty's Body Guard under the Command of Major Sachvrell, who had remained concealed inside the Palace, and on the other by a Company of Halberdiers under the Command of Colonel Powick.
When the Traitors were thus confronted by loyal Troops, they tried to put up a Fight, not realizing that such measures had been taken by Major Sachvrell and Colonel Powick that they could not possibly hope to escape.
A scuffle ensued, but the Conspirators were very soon overpowered, as indeed they were greatly outnumbered. The Neighbourhood—even then slumbering peacefully—did no more than turn over in bed, marvelling perhaps if a party of Mohocks on mischief bent had come in conflict with a Posse of Night-watchmen. The Prisoners were at once marched to the Tower, despite the Rain which had once more begun to fall heavily; and during the long, wearisome Tramp through the City, their Ardour for Conspiracies and Intrigues must have cooled down considerably.
The Lieutenant of the Tower had everything ready for the Reception of such exalted Guests; for in truth my Lady Castlemaine had not allowed things to be done by halves. Incensed against her Enemies in a manner in which only an adulated and spoilt Woman can be, she was going to see to it that those who had plotted against her should be as severely dealt with as the Law permitted.
2
Later on, I had it from my friend, Mistress Floid, that the Lady Barbara Wychwoode visited the Countess of Castlemaine during the course of the morning. She arrived at her Ladyship's House dressed in black and with a Veil, as if of mourning, over her fair Hair.
Mistress Floid hath oft told me that the Interview between the two Ladies was truly pitiable, and that the Lady Barbara presented a heart-rending Spectacle. She begged and implored her Ladyship to exercise Mercy over a few young Hotheads, who had been misled into Wrong-doing by inflammatory Speeches from Agitators, these being naught but paid Agents of the Dutch Government, she averred, set to create Discontent and if possible Civil War once again in England, so that Holland might embark upon a War of Revenge with some Certainty of Success.
But the Countess of Castlemaine would not listen to the Petition at all, and proud Lady Barbara Wychwoode then flung herself at the other Woman's feet and begged and implored for Pardon for her Brother, her Lover and her Friends. Mistress Floid avers that my Lady Castlemaine did nothing but laugh at the poor Girl's pleadings, saying in a haughty, supercilious Manner:
"Beauty in tears? 'Tis a pretty sight, forsooth! But had your Friends succeeded in their damnable Plot, would You have shed tears of sympathy for Me, I wonder?"
And I could not find it in me to be astonished at my Lady Castlemaine's Spitefulness, for in truth the Lady Barbara's Friends had plotted her Disgrace and Ruin. Not only that, they had taken every opportunity of vilifying her Character and making her appear as odious in the Eyes of the People as they very well could.
You must not infer from this, dear Mistress, that I am upholding my Lady Castlemaine in any way. Her mode of life is abhorrent to me and I deeply regret her Influence over His Majesty and over the public Morals of the Court Circle, not to say of the entire Aristocracy and Gentry. I am merely noting the fact that human Nature being what it is, it is not to be wondered at that when the Lady had a Chance of hitting back, she did so with all her Might, determined to lose nothing of this stupendous Revenge.
However secret the actual Arrest of the Conspirators was kept from public Knowledge, it soon transpired that such great and noble Gentlemen as Lord Teammouth, Lord Douglas Wychwoode, the Earl of Stour, not to mention others, were in the Tower, and that a sensational Trial for Conspiracy and High Treason was pending.
Gradually the History of the Plot had leaked out, and how it had become abortive owing to an anonymous Denunciation (for so it was called). The Conspiracy became the talk of the Town. Several Ladies and Gentlemen, though not directly implicated in the Affair, but of known ultra-Protestant views, thought it best to retire to their Country Estates, ostensibly for the benefit of their Health.
Sinister Rumours were afloat that the Conspirators would be executed without Trial—had already suffered the extreme Penalty of the Law; that the Marquis of Sidbury, Father of Lord Douglas Wychwoode, had suddenly died of Grief; that Torture would be applied to the proletarian Accomplices of the noble Lords—of whom there were many—so as to extract further Information and Denunciations from them. In fact, the Town seethed with Conjectures; People talked in Whispers and dispersed at sight of any one who was known to belong to the Court Circle. The Theatres played to empty Benches, the Exchanges and Shops were deserted, for no one liked to be abroad when Arrests and Prosecutions were in the Air.
Through it all, very great Sympathy was evinced for the Lady Barbara Wychwoode, whose pretty Face was so well-known in Town and whose Charm of Manner and kindly Disposition had endeared her to many who had had the privilege of her Acquaintance. Public Opinion is a strange and unaccountable Factor in the Affairs of Men, and Public Opinion found it terribly hard that so young and adulated a Girl as was the Lady Barbara should at one fell swoop lose Brother, Lover and Friends. And I may truly say that Satisfaction was absolutely genuine and universal when it became known presently that the young Earl of Stour had received a full and gracious Pardon for his supposed Share in the abominable Plot.
Whether, on closer Investigation, he had been proved innocent or whether the Pardon was due to exalted or other powerful Influences, no one knew as yet: all that was a Certainty was that my Lord Stour presently left the Tower a free Man even whilst his Friends were one and all brought to Trial, and subsequently most of them executed for High Treason, or otherwise severely punished.
Lord Teammouth suffered Death upon the Scaffold, so did Sir James Campsfield and Mr. Andrew Kinver; and there were others, whose Names escape me for the moment. Lord Douglas Wychwoode succeeded in fleeing to Scotland and thence to Holland; most people averred owing to the marvellous Pluck and Ingenuity of his Sister. A number of Persons of meaner degree were hanged; in fact, a Reign of Terror swept over the country, and many thought that the Judges had been unduly harsh and over free with their Pronouncements of Death Sentences.
But it was obvious that His Majesty himself meant to make an Example of such abominable Traitors, before political Intrigues and Rebellion spread over the Country once again.
It was all the more strange, therefore, that one of the Conspirators—the Earl of Stour, in fact, whose name had been most conspicuous in connection with the Affair—should thus have been the only one to enjoy Immunity. But, as I said before, nothing but Satisfaction was expressed at first for this one small Ray of Sunshine which came to brighten poor Lady Barbara Wychwoode's Misery.
As for me, I did not know what to think. Surely my heart should have been filled with Admiration for the noble Revenge which a great Artist had taken upon a hot-headed young Coxcomb. Such Magnanimity was indeed unbelievable; nay, I felt that it showed a Weakness of Character of which in my innermost Heart I did not believe Mr. Betterton capable.
To say that I was much rejoiced over the Clemency shown to my Lord Stour would be to deviate from the Truth. Looking back upon the Motives which had actuated me when I denounced the infamous Plot to the Countess of Castlemaine, I could not help but admit to myself that Hatred of a young Jackanapes and a Desire for Vengeance upon his impudent Head had greatly influenced my Course of Action. Now that I imagined him once more kneeling at the Lady Barbara's feet, an accepted Lover, triumphant over Destiny, all the Sympathy which I may have felt for him momentarily in the hour of his Adversity, died out completely from my Heart, and I felt that I hated him even more virulently than before.
His Image, as he had last stood before me in the dimly-lighted room of his noble Mansion, surrounded by Books, costly Furniture, and all the Appurtenances of a rich and independent Gentleman, was constantly before my Mind. I could, just by closing mine eyes, see him sitting beside the hearth, with the lovely Lady Barbara beaming at him from the place opposite, and his Friend standing by, backing him up with Word and Deed in all his Arrogance and Overbearing.
"The Earl of Stour cannot cross swords with a Mountebank."
I seemed to hear those Words reverberating across the street like the clank of some ghostly Bell; and whenever mine ears rang to their sound I felt the hot Blood of a just Wrath surge up to my cheeks and my feeble Hands would close in a Clutch, that was fierce as it was impotent.
3
The reported Death from grief of the Marquis of Sidbury proved to be a false Rumour. But the aged Peer did suffer severely from the Shame put upon him by his Son's Treachery. The Wychwoodes had always been loyal Subjects of their King. At the time of the late lamented Monarch's most crying Adversity, he knew that he could always count on the Devotion of that noble Family, the Members of which had jeopardized their entire Fortune, their very Existence, in the royal Cause.
Of course, the present Marquis's two Children were scarce out of the Nursery when the bitter Conflict raged between the King and his People; but it must have been terribly hard for a proud Man to bear the thought that his only Son, as soon as he had reached Man's Estate, should have raised his Hand against his Sovereign.
No doubt owing to the disturbed State of many influential Circles of Society that Winter, and the number of noble Families who were in mourning after the aborted Conspiracy and the wholesale Executions that ensued, the Marriage between the Lady Barbara Wychwoode and the Earl of Stour was postponed until the Spring, and then it would take place very quietly at the Bride's home in Sussex, whither she had gone of late with her Father, both living there for a while in strict Retirement.
Lord Douglas Wychwoode, so it was understood, had succeeded in reaching Holland, where, I doubt not, he continued to carry on those political Intrigues against his lawful Sovereign which would of a surety one day bring him to an ignominious End.
I was now living in the greatest Comfort and was supremely happy, in the House of Mr. Betterton. He employed me as his Secretary, and in truth my place was no sinecure, for I never could have believed that there were so many foolish Persons in the World who spent their time in writing Letters—laudatory or otherwise—to such great Men as were in the public Eye. I myself, though I have always been a wholehearted Admirer of Men of Talent and Erudition, would never have taken it upon myself to trouble them with Effusions from my Pen. And yet Letter after Letter would come to the house in Tothill Street, addressed to Mr. Thomas Betterton. Some written by great and noble Ladies whose Names would surprise You, dear Mistress, were I to mention them; others were from Men of position and of learning who desired to express to the great Artist all the Pleasure that they had derived from his rendering of noble Characters.
Mr. Pepys, a Gentleman of great knowledge and a Clerk in the Admiralty, wrote quite frequently to Mr. Betterton, sometimes to express unstinted Praise for the great Actor's Performance in one of his favourite Plays, or sometimes venturing on Criticism, which was often shrewd and never disdained.
But, after all, am I not wasting time by telling You that which You, dear Mistress, know well enough from your own personal Experience? I doubt not but you receive many such Letters, both from Admirers and from Friends, not to mention Enemies, who are always to the fore when a Man or Woman rises by Talent or Learning above the dead level of the rest of Humanity.
It was then my duty to read those Letters and to reply to them, which I did at Mr. Betterton's Dictation, and in my choicest Caligraphy with many Embellishments such as I had learned whilst I was Clerk to Mr. Baggs. Thus it was that I obtained Confirmation of the Fact which was still agitating my Mind: namely, Mr. Betterton's share in the Events which led to His Majesty's gracious Pardon being extended to the Earl of Stour. I had, of course, more than suspected all along that it was my Friend who had approached the Countess of Castlemaine on the Subject, yet could not imagine how any Man, who was smarting under such a terrible Insult, as Mr. Betterton had suffered at the hands of my Lord Stour, could find it in his Heart thus to return Good for Evil, and with such splendid Magnanimity.
But here I had Chapter and Verse for the whole Affair, because my Lady Castlemaine wrote to Mr. Betterton more than once upon the Subject, and always in the same bantering tone, chaffing him for his Chivalry and his Heroism, saying very much what I should myself, if I had had the Courage or the Presumption to do so. She kept him well informed of her Endeavours on behalf of Lord Stour, referring to the King's Severity and Obstinacy in the matter in no measured Language, but almost invariably closing her Epistles with a reiteration of her promise to the great Artist to grant him any Favour he might ask of her.
"I do work most strenuously on your behalf, You adorably wicked Man," her Ladyship wrote in one of her Letters; "but I could wish that You would ask something of me which more closely concerned Yourself."
On another occasion she said:
"For the first time yester evening I wrung a half Promise from His Majesty; but You cannot conceive in what a Predicament You have placed me, for His Majesty hath shown signs of Suspicion since I plead so earnestly on behalf of Lord Stour. If my Insistence were really to arouse his Jealousy your Protégé would certainly lose his Head and I probably my Place in the King's Affections."
And then again:
"It greatly puzzles me why You should thus favour my Lord Stour. Is it not a fact that he hath insulted You beyond the Hope of Pardon? And yet, not only do You plead for your Enemy with passionate insistence, but You enjoin me at the same time to keep your noble purpose a Secret from him. Truly, but for my promise to You, I would throw up the Sponge, and that for your own good.... I did not know that Artists were Altruists. Methought that Egotism was their most usual Foible."
Thus I could no longer remain in doubt as to who the Benefactor was, whom my Lord of Stour had to thank for his very life. Yet, withal, the Secret was so well kept that, even in this era of ceaseless Gossip and Chatter, every one, even in the most intimate Court Circle, was ignorant of the subtle Intrigue which had been set in motion on behalf of the young Gallant.