FAREWELL TO JERSEY.
The king's ordinary cabinet council was now reduced to three persons
besides himself, for it must be remembered that down to the days of the
German sovereigns, who could not join from ignorance of the language,
the English kings were always members of the cabinet, as the viceroy is
to this day in British India. Hyde still playing the vain Ind futile
part of ambassador in Madrid, Lord Hopton and the two secretaries,
Nicholas and Long, were the only ministers present.
But the matter now opened by the arrival of the Scottish commissioners,
was considered of so much moment as to justify, and even to demand, the
summoning of the lieutenant-governor, and of all the peers then resident
in Jersey. The deliberations of this assembly--which may be regarded as
being tantamount to the Privy Council at large--lasted to the end of the
month of December. But we are not dealing with general history. It will
suffice to record that Winram, of Liberton, the chief of the mission,
appeared charged, in the name of the parliament and clergy of the
northern kingdom, to present and enforce certain written addresses, of
which the gist was this.
Charles was to subscribe the "solemn league and covenant," to give
pardon and amnesty to all past political offences, and to agree to
maintain the Protestant religion, according to the Presbyterian rite.
Our fathers fought for freedom, but it was freedom only for themselves.
Upon these conditions it was observed by the foremost of the king's
advisers, that the so-called "Scottish Parliament" was no Parliament at
all, neither having been called by royal mandate nor dissolved by the
late king's death. It was thus wanting in the essential elements and
attributes. Dishonour and prejudice would accrue to any sovereign who
should upset the very nature of the constitution. Yet the commissioners
asserted stoutly that their employers would not be treated with under
any other style, title, or appellation. The king's councillors frowned.
It was added, further, that the clergy of the Church of England, as
might be learnt from his majesty's own chaplains then present in Jersey,
would strenuously oppose the Scottish alliance. They would indeed rather
see the king go among the Papists in Ireland than among such strict
Protestants as the Scots. These counsels were upheld by certain of the
lords; and the Lord Byron, though not giving such extreme lengths,
thought it not well to form a conclusive opinion until it was seen what
advices should be received from Ireland, where Ormonde was still
endeavouring to withstand the forces of the English Parliament under
General Cromwell.
About the end of the month, however, all hope from that side faded away.
The defence of Ireland had melted before the two passions of fear and
avarice. All the strong places in Ireland had yielded themselves to the
parliament. Ormonde admitted his failure in a letter to Charles, dated
"Waterford, December 15, 1619." On this Lord Byron joined in urging the
king to yield the questions of form or title, and to treat with the
Scots on their own terms.
While things were still in suspense, Alain le Gallais was wandering idly
on the rude quay of S. Helier, looking up at the insulated castle, and
vainly seeking to conjecture what might be the nature of the plans being
there matured, when he was suddenly addressed from behind in a rough,
but not wholly unfamiliar voice. Turning about he beheld the grim face
and gaunt form of Major Querto, by no means softened by prison fare and
restraint.
"I cannot say much in praise of your island, Captain," growled the
veteran, "either as regards hospitality or diversion. Out of bare eight
weeks that I have lived here, six have been spent in prison; and now
that they have let me out, I can find nothing better to do than to count
the pebbles upon this beach here."
Le Gallais led the grumbling officer to a neighbouring tavern, and
called for a mug of cider and two glasses. When the liquor had begun to
do its office, Querto showed signs of better cheer, nothing loth to have
a companion.
"It is not often that a poor gentleman hath even such refreshment as
this," he said presently, after lighting a pipe of tobacco. The words
were hardly courteous, but the speaker had not been bred in courtesy.
"We had short commons in Exeter, but then there was none of the citizens
fared better than we. Here in Jersey Mr. Lieutenant takes good care that
they who have keep and they who want go on lacking. Yet methinks he
might find it worth his while to take care for something else."
"What, mean you, major?" demanded the Jerseyman.
"Marry this," answered his companion, "that there be some among your
friends who do not choose to starve while there are pistoles to be won
by a brave action. Hark ye, captain, are you well affected or no? You
need have no fear, sir, in telling me. I am not strait-laced, and I can
keep counsel.
"Dost thou call to mind a certain evening in London when you and Mr.
Lempriere were walking home together, and a warning was uttered in your
ears?"
"Was it thou that played the raven? Didst thou think that we were of
your side?"
"Of my side, quotha. Why, man, do you think me one to take sides? O,
lord Sir, sides are for the quality. Dick Querto is of his own side, no
other. Now, see here, Captain le Gallais, mayhap you know one Pierre
Benoist that was then in limbo?"
"Aye, do I, and what of him?"
"Why, marry this; that he is at large, and hath a lure for your young
Charlie there that will bring him from his perch on the rock yonder, and
mew the tercel in London town. What think ye the Parliament will deem a
meet reward for the men who bring them such a prize as that?"
Le Gallais was aghast. He was asked to consent to a plot to kidnap the
king, and convey him into the hands of those who had taken his father's
anointed head from his shoulders. A plot to be carried out in Jersey,
and by the aid of Jerseymen! Alain was not a blind royalist, as we have
seen, but he had not learned, either from Prynne or from Lempriere,
either that Jersey could exist without a King of England or that
treachery was a necessary part of the work of liberty. At the same time
the ruffian before him must not be prematurely alarmed. So he played his
part as best he might.
"I must think of it," he said, "the enterprise is bold. Tell me no more
of your projects," he added, with a sudden shame, as the swashbuckler
was about to enter into details. "I cannot now take part in your work,
for reasons."
"All the better," said the bravo, "but see that you betray me not. The
fewer of us the larger the share; but you were best not betray me."
"Threats are not needed, major," answered the Jerseyman, "I am no
traitor."
Le Gallais paid the reckoning and sauntered off, a prey to contending
thoughts. That the cruel plot should come to nought, if its frustration
were within his means, he unhesitatingly resolved. That Querto's
confidence--unasked though it had been--should be used against himself,
was equally unwelcome to Alain's sense of honour.
In his perplexity, he wandered almost as by instinct to the lodgings of
the Lemprieres. He had long been accustomed to regard the simple good
faith and courage of Mme. de Maufant as an infallible oracle in cases of
conscience. Never had so hard a need for an infallible oracle presented
itself to his mind as this.
He found the ladies seated in a parlour on the ground floor, engaged in
their usual employment of knitting. The room was small, but warm and
snug. Under a pledge of secrecy, he told them in general terms that
there was a plot to seize the king, but took care not to mention the
names either of Querto or Benoist.
Meanwhile the council having broken up for the day, the king retired to
his chamber. But instead of resting and calling for refreshment, as was
his wont on such occasions, he seemed to meditate an excursion. Only
that, in deference to the prudent scruples of his council, he was
apparently going forth in strict disguise, for he unbuckled his
jewel-hilted sword, and took off his velvet doublet. Then tucking his
long hair under a fur cap, and putting on a blouse, such as was worn by
the country people, he walked out of the castle in the dark of the
winter evening, passing the sentries by giving the parole of the day.
The tide being low he walked across the "bridge," and at the town end
was accosted by a man, attired like himself, who was waiting for him
there.
"Owls be abroad," said the stranger.
"They mouse by night," answered the king.
Without further communication the two walked silently through the town,
and up the steep lane in which Mme. de Maufant had taken up her abode.
It was on a hill over-looking the town, still known by the name of "The
King's Cliff." At the back were woods and fields.
All this time Alain and the ladies of Maufant had remained in earnest
consultation. Rose was for letting matters take their course. She had
scant sympathy with those whose policy had separated her from her
husband, and who were, as she believed, plotting the betrayal of her
country, Jersey, and her Michael. In these lay all her world. That the
king should be carried off to London was nothing to her. But Marguerite
was younger and more generous. Wronged as she had been by Elliot's
insolent schemes, that account was balanced and closed by the great
audit. But she was not without a woman's romance, and the thought that a
king, young and unfortunate, was to be sold to his father's relentless
enemies and murderers, presented to her ardent mind a thing to be
prevented at all hazards.
While they were thus debating the dog was heard to bark excitedly, and
footsteps were audible in the garden behind the house.
"Mme. de Maufant," said a voice at the window, "come forth. It is I,
Pierre Benoist. I bring a message from your husband."
"Wait an instant, Benoist," answered the lady, unalarmed, "I will let
you in."
She went to the door, and gave admittance to two men in blouses. While
one conversed with Mme. de Maufant, the other advanced to her sister,
and, without taking heed of Le Gallais, addressed her in courtly tones,
holding his fur cap in his hand, his brown hair fell down upon his
shoulders.
"Fear nothing, bright pearl of Jersey," said the stranger. "A traveller
who has heard of your charms asks leave to prove them."
"Marguerite!" whispered Le Gallais on the other side, "be careful, it is
the king. I know his face. I have seen him many times in church."
Marguerite slipped to the ground on her knees. "Ah, sir," she said,
imploringly, "the honour that you do us may cost your life. Your enemies
are at hand. Perhaps the house is already surrounded. Ah, heaven! put up
your hair!" So saying she aided the smiling young king to restore his
disguise, whilst Alain, with a sudden impulse, threw himself upon
Benoist, whom he gagged and pinioned almost before the rascal could
utter a sound.
Charles, meanwhile not unwilling to wait the conclusion of the
adventure, retired by a back door, followed by Rose, who showed him into
the kitchen. The barking of the dog was at the same moment renewed, and
other footsteps and voices were heard further from the house, which was
apparently surrounded.
Marguerite sank into a chair, while Le Gallais carried the helpless
Benoist out with whispered threats; and, throwing him into a dark
stable, shut the door upon him, locking it behind him and putting the
key into his pocket. He then returned into the parlour, and telling
Rose--who had re-entered the room--what he had done, bade her be of good
cheer. Marguerite continued to kneel, and her lips moved as if in
prayer.
Meantime the voices came nearer. The dog, with one sharp yell ceased to
bark, and knocks were heard at the door. Alain gave Rose one encouraging
look and went out alone and unarmed to meet Querto and a number of
peasants, most of whom he recognised as belonging to his own company of
the parish militia.
"What is it, neighbours?" he said, taking no notice of the major, and
speaking the local dialect.
"Why, this gentleman hath brought us here to seize a spy," said one of
them--our old acquaintance Le Gros.
"There is no spy here but himself," answered Le Gallais. Do you not know
who he is, Maître Le Gros? This is Major Querto, who came here about
selling Jersey to the French.
"What are you saying in your whoreson lingo?'" cried the major. "Let us
in."
"He wishes to do some mischief here," pursued Le Gallais. "Perhaps to
rob the ladies. Will you see Michael Lempriere's wife plundered?"
"Never," said another of the peasants. "He said a spy had got admission
on false pretences."
"There is no one here but I," said Le Gallais. "Do you take me for a
spy?"
"We do not, Alain. Vive M. le Capitaine! What shall we do with him?"
said many friendly voices.
"Take him to the Centenier under the Gallows-hill," said Alain, availing
himself of the rising tide. "Or, stay"--as he caught a look from Querto,
in which agony and reproach were mingled--"If he prefers it, carry him
on board the first ship bound for France. I will answer for his passage
money. Handle him as he deserves."
To hear was to obey with the angry islanders. Hustled and disarmed,
bonnetted and bound with handkerchiefs, Querto was borne off, howling
and cursing. In a few minutes all was once more still in and about the
house, only the good watch dog had suffered. He would never sound
another alarm. One strobe of Querto's sabre had severed his faithful
head from his body.
Alain returned to the parlour.
Reassured by his telling them the story, they were easily persuaded to
retire to their chamber. Alain's next care was to seek the king's hiding
place.
"You must stay where you are till morning, sir," he said, without
entering. "I will watch over the only way by which any one can approach
you."
"As you will," cried Charles from within. "But hark ye, captain!
methinks a pint of claret would not be amiss, warm with a spiced toast
floating on the top."
The man and his wife who waited on the ladies had been spirited away by
some intrigue on the part of Benoist, and the king would have to pass
the night alone in the small kitchen.
More amused than disgusted with the royal levity, Le Gallais--who knew
the ways of the house--brewed the desired tankard, and, returning to the
kitchen, set the hot drink upon the table; then wishing the king "good
repose;" left him to his meditations.
On returning to the parlour, Le Gallais carefully secured both the inner
and the outer door, put a log upon the fire, looked to the priming of
his pistols, laid his sword upon the table, threw a cloak over his
knees, sate up in his arm chair with a look of resolute vigilance, and
sank into a profound sleep, from which he did not wake till day streamed
through the casement. His first care was to go to the stable and release
Benoist, but that slippery rascal, after his wont, had released himself.
His gag and bandage lay upon the stable floor, along with a bar shaken
out of the loophole in the wall, leaving an aperture just large enough
for a lean man to push through.
Returning to the house, Le Gallais found the graceless monarch seated at
table before a steaming bowl of porridge, while Rose was pouring him
some cider.
"Odsfish," he heard Charles say, "I owe Captain Le Gallais thanks for a
fair deliverance, and you, madame, a courteous usage under difficulty.
But _à la guerre comme à la guerre_, and I have slept in worse
conditions than those of your house, madame. Let me but bid farewell to
your sweet sister, and I will be back in the castle before my absence
has been observed. Ha! Captain Le Gallais, you must be my guide back to
the quay. This part is strange to me."
All Charles's prayers were vain. Marguerite had a _migraine_, and could
not have the honour of receiving the king's farewell. He finished his
breakfast, took a courtier's leave of his hostess, and set forth on his
homeward way, respectfully attended by Le Gallais. They walked through
the streets in silence for some time, the king having quite enough sense
to be ashamed of his situation.
"You have an interest," he presently said, "in yonder ladies, captain?"
"I have, sir. I am M. de Maufant's friend."
"And therefore my enemy, I take it. No matter, you have served me a good
turn."
Soon the strangely-assorted couple approached the quay. Scarcely anyone
being abroad at that early hour. Moreover they had come down to the
bridge head by way of the Gallows-hill, to avoid the publicity of the
main streets. As they parted, Charles turned kindly to his unwonted
follower, and said once more--
"We shall not forget our obligation to you, Captain Le Gallais, whenever
a time comes for proper acknowledgment. Meantime, if you will not own us
as your king, tell me, as man to man, if there be anything in which
Charles Stuart can serve you."
"Aye, is there," answered the Jerseyman, out of the fullness of his
heart. "For your own sake, sir, leave us. We are a simple folk, unused
to the ways of the great world, and only asking to be left in peace."
"By the faith of a gentleman," muttered Charles, as he made his way out
to the castle, "the islander is right in his amphibious way. The solemn
league and covenant is not amusing, but it cannot be worse than living
here like a seal upon a rock; and when one goes forth to talk to a
comely wench, being reconducted to one's rock by a Puritan with webbed
feet. Yet he hath saved me from a shrewd pinch, and that is the truth."
It will not be supposed that Charles was all at once prepared to drop
the little intrigue--so united to his already corrupted character, into
which he had been led by Benoist's insidious suggestions, acting upon a
mind always anxious for excitement, and predisposed by the talk of the
deceased groom-of-the-chamber. But the danger which he had incurred was
a warning in the opposite direction. Benoist was in hiding, and appeared
no more in the castle; lastly, the negotiations with the Scots now
became so urgent and so perpetual as to require his almost constant
presence and personal influence. The opposing motives and conflicting
opinions of his various advisers often kindled into violent altercation,
in composing which the really excellent qualities of the young king's
prematurely developed character had room for beneficial action. So the
ladies of Maufant were left free from a troublesome persecution, against
which, nevertheless, they took all due precautions.
Upon general grounds Charles was now willing enough to leave Jersey. The
bluff firmness of Sir George Carteret, and the grave counsels of
Nicholas, by whom the lieutenant-governor was usually backed up, were
unwelcome to a sovereign; and his tiny kingdom afforded but little
compensation, especially when he was forbidden to visit it, and was
virtually prisoner on an almost insulated corner thereof. For Carteret
and Nicholas had heard of his nocturnal adventure, and had extorted a
promise from him not to go on land without their knowledge. They had
also taken other precautions in the same behalf, which were perhaps more
trustworthy.
It was finally determined that the king and his retinue should leave the
island. The Scots' invitation was accepted on the terms proposed by what
it was agreed to call "the committee of estates;" and Breda, in Holland,
was named as the place where the final agreement should be engrossed and
signed by the high contracting parties. Here Charles would be safe in
the protection of his brother-in-law, the Prince of Orange, until
matters should be ripe for his departure to Scotland.
EPILOGUE.
Since the events related in the foregoing chapters nearly two years had
gone by. Jersey had been saved from intrigues of the Queen and Lord
Jermyn. Charles had gone to France, and thence to Holland, followed by
the Duke of York, his brother, and later by Sir Edward Nicholas and the
other members of his council and court. The lieutenant-governor, freed
from even the slight control afforded by their presence, had given full
scope to the worse parts of his peculiar and complicated character. More
than ever was his administration of his native island marked by
unblushing egotism. Oppressive, grasping, unguarded in speech, and
almost unrestrained in action, he seemed, from one point of view, the
model of a sordid, short-sighted despot, making hay while the sun shone.
But he had a fund of caution which kept him from proceeding quite to
extremes, and his energy and ability were undeniable, as was also his
attention to business. Hence, while feared and even hated, he was still
respected and obeyed. Most of the militia officers were his creatures,
as were also--as we have already seen--the civil, judicial, and
legislative officers of the little republic. The seat of his government
was at S. Helier, while S. Aubin, on the opposite point of the bay, was
filled with his skippers and their crews, and the traders who profited
by their piratical proceedings. Hardly a week passed but some rich
prize--usually an English merchantman--was brought in there, to be
condemned by Carteret's court, and sold, together with her cargo, while
the unfortunate mariners who had manned her were left to their own
resources. Adventurers from all parts flocked to Jersey, to share the
gains of this new and irregular trade, while the lawful commerce of
England was menaced as with a cancer. With the resources derived from
his maritime enterprise, joined to what he drew from his fines, taxes,
exactions, compositions, and confiscations within the limits of the
island, the unscrupulous governor was founding a sort of Christian
Barbary, and becoming a hostile power no less than a public scandal.
Nevertheless, he could on occasion make a generous use of his ill-gotten
gains.[_v._ Appendix.] He sent money more than once to the necessitous
court in Holland, continuing to do so until the king departed thence to
Scotland. And he kept up such a stream of supplies for Castle Cornet, in
Guernsey, as enabled Sir Baldwin Wake, the commandant, to hold out
against all the force of the Parliamentary power in that island, and
against all attempts by sea. Indeed this remarkable siege lasted longer
than the fabled one of Troy, and the feat, however creditable to the
handful of men by whom it was performed, and to Osborne and his
successor Wake, was only rendered possible by the constant aid of Sir
George Carteret. Most of all, however, did that energetic officer enrich
himself, laying in fact the foundation of that greatness which
afterwards culminated in his descendant, the famous Lord Granville, the
rival of Walpole. He obtained from Charles a grant of Crown lands,
including the escheated manor of Melèches. And he further appropriated
to his own use the revenues of his personal enemies, the chief of whom
were the exiled Seigneurs Dumaresq, of Samares, and Lempriere, of
Maufant. It should, however, be added that he shed no more blood. In
fact with the exception of the Bandinels and Messervy, Seigneur of Bagot
(already mentioned), no one lost life for opposition to Sir George. He
even attempted to conciliate some of his opponents, restoring Le Gallais
to his post of captain in the militia, and empowering him to offer to
Lempriere's wife the use of her house at Maufant, which he had
confiscated. But that valiant lady resolutely refused to hold or inhabit
under the favour of an usurper, and continued to occupy the lodgings on
King's Cliff, though in constant straits for want of money. Marguerite,
who, however wild and light others found her, was always faithful to her
good sister, cast in her lot with Mme. de Maufant, with the consent of
her own family at Rozel; and it was chiefly by her assistance that the
expenses were in any way met. Le Gallais also lost no opportunity of
visiting the ladies and ministering to their wants like a brother, to
the great straining of his own slender savings. He carefully forebore to
press Mlle. de St. Martin with a lover's suit, whether or no to that
young lady's complete satisfaction we are not informed. In any case, her
manner, though composed by trouble, gave no sign of the state of her
feelings; and whether she was fond of Alain or weary of him, her
self-control was equally to her credit. As for Alain, he seemed to be
stupefied, rather awaiting ruin than expecting better times.
Matters were in this state, when one lovely day in September, 1651,
Alain came before Mme. de Maufant and her sister as they sate knitting
in the doorway.
"Great news!" he cried, as soon as he was near enough for the ladies to
hear. "Great news! General Cromwell has thoroughly purged the garner. He
has beaten and scattered the Scots at Worcester. 'Tis said Charles
Stuart their king is taken prisoner. This 'crowning mercy,' as it is
called by the lord general, befel on the 3rd, the same day last year he
beat these same Scots at Dunbar. 'Tis a great and a bright day in his
lordship's life."
"Count no man happy till his end," answered Rose gravely. "A day of
triumph may be a day of doom when God pleases. And how does this event
touch us, thinkest thou, Alain?"
"Why thus," replied the young man. "The general is not a man to bear
with our lieutenant-governor's oppressions and piracies for ever. Like
Satan in the Apocalypse, Carteret hath great wrath, because he knoweth
that his time is short. For Admiral Blake hath been collecting his ships
at Portsmouth, and our informant says that they were to sail to-day,
eighty vessels of war. They carry a strong force of _fantassins_,
pikemen, and arquebussiers, with the new snaphaunces devised in the low
countries. Their commander is Major-General Haine, Prynne is there as
commissioner, and, best of all, Michael Lempriere is on board!"
Rose looked at him with swimming eyes.
"And Michael Lempriere comes as bailiff. He said that he would. And
then, when your fortunes are once more high, and you have no further
need of me ..."
Alain faltered and looked down. But for that gesture even his despondent
mind might have been roused by the look that Marguerite cast upon him.
But the dart was parried by the shield of an obstinate depression.
"I have arranged," he pursued, "with Sir George. You know that last
year he sent out a ship of five guns to America, laden with passengers,
all sorts of grain, and tools for husbandry. She was lost, being
captured (that is to say) off the Isle of Wight by Captain Green, of the
Commonwealth's navy. The stores were confiscated, but most of the
passengers came back to the island, and have been here ever since
awaiting a fresh opportunity for New Jersey. It will come soon, and I
sail with the next venture."
"With the next fiddlestick," broke in Rose. "Speak to the silly fellow,
Marguerite. This is the last time of asking."
Whatever may be thought of Alain's project of emigration, his
information was true enough. Cromwell had determined to put a stop to
the trouble caused by the present doings in Jersey. Yet he had no desire
to repeat the severities of Ireland. The Jersey cavaliers were good
Protestants, there had been no massacres, and their cause was warmly
supported by Prynne--a man with whom the general could not wholly
sympathise, but with whom he could still less afford to break on what
appeared to him a not very important difference. Left to himself, he
would not probably have been as stern with Jersey as he had been with
the blood-stained Rapparees and their allies, solicited by the leader of
the Moderates, he was willing to be won. So he readily agreed to the
counsels of those who urged him to accept Prynne's offer of service, and
appointed the Presbyterian confessor to accompany Blake and Haine as a
representative of conciliation and indulgence.
Setting sail with a light north-east wind, the transports and their
convoy, multiplied by popular rumour into a vast fleet of war, and
really bearing nearly three thousand good troops and a quantum of field
guns, made slow way out of Portsmouth harbour on Sunday, September 19th.
Next morning they were in the open sea with all sail set. On the
quarter-deck of the _Constant Warwick_, a fine frigate (the first
launched by the new government) Lempriere and Prynne--now completely
reconciled--paced slowly up and down, talking of the present situation
and future policy. As they did so their eyes glanced from time to time
on the fair sea scape, illumined by the early autumn sunlight, and
shaded by the sails of the surrounding shipping.
"'Tis a fair show, Mr. Bailiff," said the English politician, "And one
that ought to bring down our friend's stomach."
"Faith! I do not know," answered the Jerseyman. "Sir George will fight,
I doubt. You know him as well as I."
"Nevertheless, he cannot fight to much purpose, and I see not how there
can be any great effusion of blood. By himself he can do nothing, and
who will be of his side? It is the divine asseveration of the wisest of
men, Ecclesiastes vii. 7, 'Surely oppression maketh a wise man mad.' And
if it be so, Cartwright should have but few sane men about him. Yet in
his fall I pray he may find mercy. And I am forced to lean upon you, Mr.
Bailiff, in that behalf."
"_Non tali auxilio_," began the quotation-loving bailiff. But Prynne
gravely pursued his pleading.
"You may recollect what I said to the Commons' House three full years
ago. Indeed it was the very night before Pride's Purge. If fines, I
reminded them, if imprisonments, grievous mutilations, and brandings of
S.L.--which I once called 'stigmata landis;' but 'tis an ill subject for
jesting--could bespeak a true friend to liberty, why then sure I am one
whose voice might well claim, a hearing. Yet it hath been far otherwise
with yonder masterful men of the carnal weapon, who seek their own
advancement in the name of the Commonwealth. I have never coveted the
transient treasures, honours, or preferments of the world, but only to
do to my God, country, aye, and king, too, the best public services I
could, even though it brought upon me the loss of my liberty, the ruin
of my mean estate, and the hazard of my life. When the late king did
wrong I withstood him, to the extent of my poor capacity; but I was not
for seeing the crown and lords of the ancient realm of England subverted
or submerged by the flood of usurpation let in by some members of the
Lower House. My speech of the 4th December, 1649----."
"I heard it," broke in the other, "And well do I remember the hum of
assent and approbation with which it was received."
"It was printed no less than three times last year. Then followed my
tractate upon their deposing and executing their lawful king; and other
leaves against the arbitrary taxation of what I call 'the Westminster
Junto.' Think you that these things can be forgotten, or that my being
sent here with Haine is more than a hollow compliment? Recollect the
word that we exchanged at my lodging in the Strand two years ago, and
bear in mind that it is rather in your hands than in mine to temper
justice with mercy when my friends shall be overthrown in yonder
island."
So pleaded, and to yet greater length, the verbose but earnest advocate.
But in truth he might have been more concise, less eloquence would have
sufficed had not the idle hours of a sea voyage thrown open a wider door
for its display. Lempriere was ready to promise anything on the joy of
the long-wished for moment.
"Quod optanti Divum promittere nemo
Auderet."
As he himself expressed the matter with wonted Latinity. His own nature
would have disposed him to adhere to the promise given long ago, and
still so urgently demanded of him by Prynne.
On the evening of Monday, the 20th of September, the flotilla was
signalled in the north-western part of Jersey, where a vigilant outlook
had long been maintained upon the very top of Plémont. The sea heaved to
and fro in smooth fluctuations under the bright weather, which shed mild
splendour over the violet surface, studded with orange rocks. With
favouring airs the stately ships slid slowly on in crescent formation.
They cast anchor for the evening in S. Owen's Bay, sheltered on the
north by Grosnez Gape, and on the south by the cliffs that end in the
Corbière--an extent of nearly five miles.
On shore all was bustle and preparation. Sir George's head-quarters were
at his cousin's seat, the manor house of S. Owen. The sandy plains to
seaward were held by companies of the island militia; the
lieutenant-governor's own immediate following consisted of a small
squadron of horse, raised and equipped by himself, but mounted on
chargers especially presented to them by the king. Considering the
natural difficulties of the coast, and that the equinox was at hand, the
numerical disparity was not absolutely desperate. Jersey is a strong
place yet. In those days of sailing ships and weak artillery it was a
gigantic fortress, if only held by a wholehearted and determined
garrison. Had that but been now the case, which, however, it was not.
The population in general had no insurmountable feeling of hostility
towards the _de facto_ government of England. On the other hand, the
hearts of the Cavalier party were not high. A rumour had been
spread--not traceable to any distinct source--that Charles had been
taken after the rout of Worcester. The public, ever credulous of ill
tidings, fastened with morbid eagerness on such reports. "Sorrow and
despair," writes a Royalist eye-witness with natural exaggeration,
"could be seen in every face. The more dispirited began to cry out that
it was in vain to contend any longer against powers that, like a
torrent, bore down everything before them."
Carteret, who though ambitious and covetous, was never wanting in
courage, energy, intelligence or versatility, turned the more
obstinately to his task. Concealing his natural anxieties, he rode about
from post to post in morion and buff coat, wearing a resolute
countenance, and doing all that one man could do to keep up the hearts
of his people and prepare a stout defence.
The position of Le Gallais, though humbler, was much more complicated.
Nor was he possessed of sufficient strength of character to choose a
distinct path and steadily pursue it. Determined enough, as we have
seen, under excitement he could fight with his back to the wall. Nor was
he one to shrink from any duty that was plainly pointed out to him. He
could not prepare himself _de longue main_ for a definite and consistent
conduct; still less had he the power--often wielded by natures otherwise
inferior--of striking a balance between opposing motives. His duty as a
militia-officer was at complete variance with his desires as a friend of
Lempriere's. He could not choose between them. He might have thrown up
his commission and devoted himself to watching over his friends at
King's Cliff. He might have cast his feelings to the winds and accepted
the post of orderly officer to the Lieutenant-Governor which was offered
him by Carteret. He chose neither line but adopted what he called "a
middle-course," in other words left himself to be drifted on the current
of events. He saw that the position of the cavaliers was hopeless if
they had to maintain a long and unaided contest against the conquerors
of Ireland and Scotland. He had no great trust in the willingness of the
French, none whatever in their good faith. His ardent desire to prevent
effusion of Jersey blood was a preoccupation that hid almost all other
considerations from his mind. And he had trust in the discipline and
morale of the Parliamentary troops, and in the presence among them of
Prynne and Lempriere, which saved him from much anxiety as to the
welfare of the ladies at King's Cliff.
As he sate, that night, by the camp-fire of a picquet of his company he
heard two militiamen conversing, and recognised Benoist and Le Gros as
the speakers.
"To what purpose are we here, _mon voisin_?" asked the former. "What
good would the sacrifice of ourselves do the King now, when perhaps he
has already undergone his father's fate and is no longer in this world?"
"If the King be dead, indeed," answered Le Gros, "I for one will not
fire a single cartridge. All the same, he was a debonair prince, and
once gave me a groat to drink his health when he saw me holding his
horse."
"That he is a prisoner is certain," croaked Benoist. "And if prisoner to
Maître Cromouailles he can only make his escape through one door. And
that door does not lead to Jersey, though it may to Paradise."
Here the men got up and moved off in search of cider, which was being
served out by the Governor's orders at a neigbouring farm-house. But
their conversation mingled with the young Captain's thoughts as,
wearied with the marchings and countermarchings of the day, he dozed in
the still night air, lulled by the fire at his feet. Deep slumber must
have followed, for he started from dreams of tumult to feel the
vibration of air caused by a round-shot passing over his head. The wind
had fallen to an almost complete calm: a light breeze of autumn morning
breathed keen over the barren moor; bugles were sounding, drums
rattling, men shouting as they collected their accoutrements and fell in
under arms.
Four-and-twenty guns from the nearest ships were playing upon them,
answered briskly by the little militia batteries that lined the bay.
Gunboats began to stand in, laden with red-coated marksmen discharging
their new pattern fire-locks. The militiamen on their part waded into
the sea and gave such answer as they could from their clumsy old
matchlocks: making good the deficiency--so far as noise was
concerned--by shouts of vituperation; and calling on their assailants as
"Rebels," "Traitors," and "Murderers of their King." The landing was
frustrated for the time.
The next day was occupied in rapid movements from one part of the island
to another, in order to meet feigned attacks by the enemy who were ready
to turn any of those diversions into a real assault, on finding the
Jersey people unprepared. The Lieutenant-Governor had no choice but to
distract and weary his men, marching them backwards and forwards to S.
Aubin, S. Clement, and Gorey, according as the invaders appeared at one
or other of those landing-places. The militiamen were worn out by these
tactics, and were moreover of the class on whom Carteret's oppressive
taxations had long pressed with an almost intolerable weight. On the
third day their strength was reduced both by fatigue and desertion; and
in the afternoon, after more demonstrations a real landing took place in
S. Owen's Bay, the original point of attack. Carteret, as soon as he
perceived what was intended, galloped up his cavalry, ordering up a
battalion of militia in support, under his cousin, the Seigneur of S.
Owen. The English infantry formed upon the beach, and advanced to the
attack with terrible shouts and cheers. The first troop of Carteret's
horse met them boldly, and delivered a headlong charge; but the men who
had fought Rupert and Goring were not to be intimidated by a handful of
untrained cavaliers. The troopers were received with a volley that
emptied several saddles; and retired, leaving several of their number
dead and carrying off Colonel Bovil, a gallant English officer by whom
they had been led, and who soon after died of his wounds. The second
troop failed to support them, but guarded the retreat as the troopers
drew off without renewing their charge. Meanwhile, the militia who
should have been the third line dispersed and gained their homes. The
red 'coats meeting no further opposition marched cautiously across the
island, and encamped for the night on Gorey Common. Carteret, with such
men--mostly Cornishmen and Irish--as remained with him, threw himself
into Elizabeth Castle; the other forts, S. Aubin and Mont Orgueil,
yielded, almost without show of resistance, in a few days.
In anticipation of such an occasion Carteret had furnished the Castle of
S. Helier with abundant provision, alike of victuals and ammunition; the
latter being stored in the old Abbey Church, which was proof against the
bullets used by the ordinary artillery of those days. His guns were
mounted on the landward batteries, so as to command the town and any
camp that might be formed there for siege purposes. The hill above--the
Mont de la Ville--was too remote to cause any serious danger from the
field-pieces of the period, which were not capable of sending shot with
effect to a greater distance than half-a-mile. He despatched boats to
convey his private property to France, and to take letters to the
Royalists there, asking for instructions and assistance; and then
stoutly prepared--with a garrison of 350 men--to sustain the siege
against the grim victors of Tredagh.
Le Gallais, having lost his men in the late dispersal of the militia,
felt no scruple in seeking his friend Lempriere. The latter, after a
warm greeting, brought him to Prynne; and all three presently repaired
to the head-quarters, in La Motte-street, where they were amicably
received by Colonel Haine, the commander of the English forces.
Haine was one of those rapidly-formed soldiers, who had been thrown
up and hardened by the war in England ten years before. He listened
with due attention to what Le Gallais had to say about the
Lieutenant-Governor's resources and probable intentions.
"And who is this youth that hath such knowledge of affairs?" he asked,
turning to the Bailiff--for as such was Lempriere now officially
recognised.
"He is one, sir, that hath suffered for the cause; a Captain in our
Militia, and my brother-in-law."
Alain shot a glance of gratitude at Lempriere, while Haine, laying his
hand upon his shoulder, said in a friendly tone; "I pray you, Captain,
attend me as _aide-de-camp_ until your company be reformed."
Then calling for his horse, he led the party, swollen by the number of
his staff, to the head of the causeway leading to the Castle, "If what I
hear from Captain Le Gallais be correct," he said to his Brigade-Major,
"the Castle will not yield. But send them a trumpet, and let them not
have cause to say the officers of the Commonwealth are unacquainted with
the usages of war."
The trumpeter rode forward to summons the Castle, a white flag flying
from the tube of his instrument. Ere he could reach the gate, a gun
boomed out from the Castle, a round shot whizzed over the heads of the
summoners, and Haine roared at the top of his well-trained voice, "Come
back; it is a sufficient answer."
And so the fiery duet began--the batteries of the Churchyard sounding
daily in harmony with those of the Castle, whilst ever and anon a piece
of greater calibre roared its bass from the Town-hill.
Lempriere made haste to remove his wife and their sister from the noisy
alarms of war to their quiet home at Maufant, where he left them to
remove the traces of the usurper, and restore the old state of things
with the help of the steward and such of the farmers as had not died out
or left the country. One consequence of this removal was that Le Gallais
saw nothing of the ladies. His new duties kept him much at the
Brigadier's side; when not so employed, he was chiefly occupied with
Prynne, who was attracted by the turn of the young man's mind, more akin
to his own than that of the "hot gospellers," the "levellers," and the
professional soldiers by whom he was surrounded.
Meanwhile, the siege dragged slowly on, until one dark night in the end
of November an old acquaintance, Pierre Benoist, threw himself in the
way of a party of Carteret's scouts, who had come on the mainland and
were questing for intelligence or plunder. Taken before Sir George, he
was threatened with the doom of a prisoner-of-war, who was also a spy,
unless he would tell all that he knew. He asked for nothing better,
having got himself taken by the patrol for the express purpose of
furnishing the garrison grounds for an early surrender. Especially
pleased was the rogue when the Lieutenant-Governor pressed him to
explain the nature of a movement of the enemy upon the top of the
Town-hill, which had been perceived before nightfall; and of the cargo
landed at S. Aubin by a heavy-looking craft that had arrived in the
morning, and which seemed neither man-of-war nor trader.
"That I can tell you," said Benoist; "they are preparing engines for
your ruin. I saw the pieces landed, and drawn by oxen to the Mont de la
Ville. Two pieces of ordnance whereof each shot weighs four hundred
Jersey pounds, and takes ten pounds of powder to discharge. The like has
never been seen, and they will carry a ball from Mont Orgueil to the
coast of Prance. _Ver di!_"
Carteret laughed; but his laughter was only justified by the
exaggeration. It did not altogether conceal the genuine anxiety caused
by so much of the information as might be reasonably believed.
The anxiety was soon realised. When the mists of the winter dawn cleared
up, it was seen that a strong work of granite had been newly thrown up
on the nearest point of the hill, and while the besieged were still
examining the structure, a vivid jet of flame and a puff of smoke darted
from one of the embrasures, and a thirteen-inch shell--the largest
projectile then seen--came booming over their astonished heads. Two more
followed, at short intervals. After the third, an awful report was
heard, a babel of tumult followed, and a gigantic column of smoke
towered up behind them, from the magazine in the old Abbey Church.
Splinters and fragments of stone and timber, mingled with pieces of
powder, barrels, and ghastly members of human carcases were scattered,
as they rose as out of a horrid volcano. The magazine had been struck
and exploded by the great shell, killing no less than sixteen men, and
wounding horribly ten others, including soldiers on guard, armourers,
and workmen who had been collected for the daily labours of the arsenal.
Among the bystanders was Pierre Benoist, who now lay among the ruins,
half crushed by a stone, and who died after intense suffering in the
course of the day.
A panic spread through the garrison; some prepared to fly at once,
others clamoured for surrender. Carteret called them together; and when
the officers and men were all collected on parade, appealed to all
classes, as Lieutenant-Governor of the King whom they had all seen
trusting himself in their protection, and as commander of the royal
forces in the loyal island "I am determined," said the undaunted seaman,
"to keep this castle for His Majesty so long as I have a man left to
fire a gun, and a loblolly boy to fetch the ammunition. The royal
standard still flies over our heads, the sea still lies between us and
France, to bring us Prince Rupert and his fleet. Let those who are
afraid depart--I keep no man against his will. Those who remain will be
all the more trustworthy. Let the gate stand open for the next
half-hour."
His orders were obeyed; but as he probably foresaw, no one dared to
leave openly. By night, however, many of the garrison, who were of the
Jersey Militia, silently departed. The bulk of the garrison, however,
had heard of the storm of Drogheda, and chose what they deemed the
lesser evil of trusting to the strength of their walls and the resources
of their commander. To go to a town where they were unpopular
strangers, and where the soldiers of the Commonwealth were in undisputed
possession, would be to go to certain and immediate slaughter--to remain
with Carteret was to gain the present hour and the chances of the
future. Lady Carteret and the women and children were sent by the next
opportunity to France; and then the work of defence was renewed; the
guns were fired, as powder served and supplies were received from
France; injured walls were repaired, and aid was anxiously awaited.
Castle Cornet, in Guernsey, had held out since the Outbreak of
hostilities more than ten years before--why should not Elizabeth, do as
much, until the king enjoyed his own again? Meanwhile, December had
begun, and the days grew short and cold. Haine's great mortars proved
rude and cumbrous; before they could be loaded and fired, and cooled
again, one after the other, many times, the darkness would come on. The
remaining stores were buried out of range. In the black and stormy
nights, which lasted nearly sixteen hours, the men of the garrison threw
up mounds of shingle and sand behind the breaches made during the day.
On the morning of the 5th December the sun rose clear and bright, and a
south-west wind softly threw out the silken folds of the Royal Standard
on the main tower of the Castle. Haine was standing by a cromlech that
in those days occupied the summit of the Town-hill; Prynne, Lempriere,
and some officers, of whom Le Gallais was one, stood beside him. In
their immediate front the gunners, under an officer, were preparing to
renew their apparently endless operations.
"This must be brought to an end, Mr. Bailiff," said Haine. "For seven
weeks and more I have exhausted the powers of modern war upon that eyry
of malignants; and there is still the Guernsey Castle to be dealt with.
Mr. Prynne knoweth what is the mind of the Lord General; but a time
comes when sharp measures become necessary. I must take up
scaling-ladders and deliver an assault."
As they looked out to sea a small barque was seen standing in; by the
help of field-glasses, it was observed that she flew the French flag. At
the same instant the Castle guns saluted.
"Lo you, now!" pursued the commander, "there comes to them a promise of
help from France. As the Lord liveth, it must be prevented! I must
recall our cruisers from Guernsey; that castle shall be breached and
stormed on Monday. And then on their own heads be the blood of Sir
George and of those that hold with him!"
"Under your favour, sir," said Prynne, "I think it shall not need." He
exchanged a hurried whisper with Lempriere. "What flag is that which you
see flying on the Castle staff?"
"It is not a flag of truce," shouted Haine. "God do so to me and more
also if I make them not like unto Oreb and Zeb!"
The text seemed to relieve the veteran like an execration.
"What mean you by your flag, Mr. Prynne? I am not to take my orders from
you, sir, I hope."
"It is the flag of England," answered the politician, "of your country
and of theirs--the red cross of S. George. The Royal Ensign has been
hauled down; do you not see? God save England!"
With the impulse of Latin manners, Lempriere held out his arms, and Le
Gallais fell upon his breast. Meanwhile a drummer from the Castle was
seen to ascend the bill, bearing a white pennon at the end of a lance,
which he planted on the ground when he came within sight, and beat the
_chamade_ upon his instrument.
The messenger being brought before the Brigadier, handed him a small
packet. Among them was a short note to the address of Captain Le
Gallais, in which Carteret, reminding the militia officer of their past
relations, invited him to plead his cause and that of the garrison with
Lempriere and Prynne. This note Le Gallais, after attentive perusal,
handed to Lempriere, who read it over, and waited in silence until Haine
had finished his own despatch. He then addressed the Brigadier, and
pleaded strongly the cause of his countrymen, concluded with these
words:
"Carteret, sir, was a sentinel; he hath but done his duty to his master.
So long as he was not relieved, he could not honestly leave or surrender
that which he was placed to guard. Why he now lowers his arms he hath
made plain I doubt not, to your Honour."
"Why, yes, Mr. Bailiff; for the matter of that, he hath put a fair case.
Yonder barque, it seems, brought him cold comfort. As for that thing
they call their 'King,' he is lost. He can only offer them aid on
condition of delivering the island to the French. Not that Mazarin dares
affront us by sending a French army to occupy the Castle in the name of
his King, and risk the giving us battle. Far from that, he hath a
conjunction of counsels with the Lord General, and they understand one
another. Nevertheless, there is ever a rabble of Irish cut-throats,
Flemish mercenaries, and such-like, and no lack of Maulévriers to be
their leaders."
"But if such men come into Jersey," said the Bailiff, "who can say when
or how they would quit, or what mischief they might not have wrought
first."
"One remedy for that," said the soldier, grimly, "will be to storm the
Castle forthwith, and let all be over before their friends can arrive."
"For God's sake, do not so!" cried Lempriere; "not now that they have
surrendered."
"I will be bail," added Prynne, "that Carteret shall depart in peace,
after giving up all that is in his charge. Only let Captain Le Gallais
go to him with a note of your Honour's terms; and let us await, I pray
you, his return."
The General having at last consented, after just so much show of
hesitation as to make it appear that the terms were yielded to the
persuasion of his chief associates, Le Gallais returned with the drummer
bearing the _ultimatum_ of the English commander. He found the interior
of the Castle a scene of havoc; among the _débris_ Carteret, like a
modern Marius, maintained an air of resolution.
"It is not enough, Captain," said he, after brief salutations had been
exchanged, "that we have fired away all our ammunition, and eaten our
last horse, while the blockade of your friend's cruisers ever increases
its rigour. After all was done, we could die in the breach or in a
general sortie. But there is treachery abroad. Not indeed among
ourselves, but among those whom we desire to serve."
"Your King, urged by his necessities, would sell you to the French?"
"It shall not be!" cried Carteret, with a fierce oath. "Let me see your
General's terms. Better an English Parliament than a Popish King." He
called into the corridor, "Bring the best bottle of wine that is left in
my cellar!"
Le Gallais handed him the note containing the heads of Haine's terms.
"Perhaps, messire, you would consult with your council?" he asked.
"_'A quoi bon?_" said Carteret. "You heard what the States carried by
acclamation, in October, 1649? All who are with me are of the same mind
still." The wine was brought. "What was said then in a triumph, I say
now in the day of my downfall; Captain, fill your glass! 'England for
ever! England above all!'"
* * * * *
The happy effect of this unexpected but welcome end of strife was soon
made known throughout the island. In the towns and villages tar-barrels
blazed all through the winter-night, and the best cider flowed free in
the farms.
At Maufant all was happiness. The character of Marguerite de S. Martin
had come out purified from the trials of the past two years, and the
coquette-girl had grown into a woman, with but a lingering spice of
_mutinerie_. Rose, happy in the restoration of her husband to all public
honour and private joy, was anxious that her sister should partake in
her happiness.
"Alain Le Gallais is no Solomon; that I grant you," so she concluded a
conversation on family matters, which they held after the labours and
excitement of the day; "but he can do his duty to his country; he has
proved himself a serviceable friend. Take him, _tel quel_, my little
heart, thou canst not hope for a better."
"Marriage is a slavery, _quand même_," said Marguerite, with a saucy
shake of the head. "But it is not," she presently added, "I that will be
the slave; and there is some comfort in knowing so much."
So the public and private troubles wore brought to an end at the same
time. Carteret and his followers were allowed to go to France in peace
and honour. Lempriere and he had held no intercourse since the
surrender, but the Bailiff and his wife were honoured members of the
assembly that gathered on the quay on the morning of the Cavaliers'
departure. The rising sun threw his orange hues on their swelling sails.
"We have won this time," said Rose, pressing her husband's arm. "Mr.
Prynne, have you no compliment for us?"
"It is our advantage," said Prynne in answer; "let us see that we
deserve it. There as a Power that judgeth right, and in serving of whom
there is great reward. For my part, I have done much wrong, to your
husband among others. I have been punished for mine offences; if I would
avoid more punishment, I must offend no more."
APPENDIX.
The character of Sir George Carteret is taken from the materials of the
time, without aid from fancy.
It should be added that Charles showed no ingratitude towards this
faithful servant. After the Restoration he settled in London, where--in
spite of his bad English, noticed by Andrew Marvell--he rose to high
rank and founded a noble family, now represented by the Marquess of
Bath.
Carteret was employed at the Admiralty, first as Treasurer, afterwards
as Commissioner--or Junior Lord. He was also Vice-Chamberlain of the
Royal Household; and he amassed considerable wealth.
But he never forgot his native island. He endeavoured to found a High
School at St. Helier, what in the pompous style of these days would be
called a "College." But the project broke down for want of earnestness
on the part of the Jersey people, though Sir George offered the then
very large sum of 50,000 _livres tournois_ towards the endowment. He
lived till 1680.