While Jack is galloping towards Sherwood Forest, we will give a short
description of the plot which had been designed for the overthrow of
William of Orange and the restoration of James the Second to the throne
of England, and the re-establishment of Romanism throughout the realm.
The adherents of James, who desired to retain him on the throne of
England in spite of his attempts to establish a despotic government, and
to restore the Roman Catholic religion in the country, were called by
their opponents "Jacobites." A large number of them belonged themselves
to the Church of Rome, and, instigated by their priests, many of whom,
in consequence of the liberality of King William, were allowed to remain
in the country, were with other discontented persons continually
plotting for the restoration of King James. At length, the two plots
which have been hinted at in the previous pages were concocted. One, in
which Mr Harwood and a number of noblemen and gentlemen of honourable
character were engaged, had for its object the rising of the Jacobites
generally throughout England, while Louis the Fourteenth undertook to
send an army of 20,000 men to their assistance. This was about the year
1693. At the same time, another plot of an atrocious character was
either proposed to James or suggested by him. He had himself, by this
time, become thoroughly imbued with Jesuit principles, being surrounded
by priests of that order. At all events, there is no doubt that the
plot met with his cordial sanction. The plan proposed was to
assassinate William as he was on his way to hunt in Richmond Park.
While the country by his death was thrown into a state of confusion, the
Jacobites were to fly to arms and the French army was to cross the
channel.
Towards the end of 1695, the Duke of Berwick, a natural son of Charles
the Second, came over secretly to England to try the temper of the
Jacobites, Louis having promised to send his troops across immediately
that they should rise. The Duke landed in Romney Marsh, where he took
up his abode at the house of a smuggler of the name of Robert Hunt. By
means of this man he was enabled to transmit the information he received
to France. It appears, however, that the Jacobites were unwilling to
risk their lives by rising while William remained firmly seated on the
throne, dreading the arm of that bold and sagacious monarch.
There is no doubt, that in consequence of the failure of the Duke of
Berwick's attempt in England to induce his friends to rise in arms,
James and Louis agreed to the plot which had before been suggested for
the assassination of William. The king was to be murdered on the 15th
of February, as he was leaving his palace at Kensington to hunt in
Richmond Park. Now it appears that a few days before this, James left
Paris, and journeyed to Calais, where he set himself at the head of an
army of about 20,000 men, who were drawn out of the garrisons which lay
near the frontier. A considerable fleet also assembled there from
Dunkirk and other ports, while transports, and more men-of-war to convoy
them over, were also brought together. Several regiments indeed were
already embarked while James waited at Calais, and no one can doubt that
he remained there to receive the first notice of the projected
assassination. Louis had communicated to the various courts in which he
had ministers, the facts that he had acknowledged James King of England,
and that he purposed to invade that country to re-establish him on the
throne. At this time William had a large fleet at Spithead, and an army
attached to him, while the larger part of the nation were desirous that
he should remain their king. With all of these facts Louis was well
acquainted, and there can be no doubt that he was himself also aware of
the intended assassination, as he had far too much sense to suppose that
while William lived any invasion of England would have been successful.
The chief promoter of the scheme for the invasion of England was Sir
John Fenwick, a baronet of good family, but it does not appear that he
was in any way connected with the assassination plot. Sir John Friend,
a city knight, was also implicated in this plot. The Earl of Aylesbury
and Lord Montgomery, with many others, were also connected with it.
Charnock, Sir William Parkyns, Rookwood, Lowick, Cranburn, Knightley
were among the chief persons engaged in the assassination plot.
The conspirators were to be scattered about Turnham Green in taverns and
ale-houses, and to be brought together upon a signal being given. Each
body of them was under a leader, so as to give the proceeding the air of
a military act. While some were to attack the king's guards, others had
been especially selected to shoot at the king himself. James had sent
over a number of his own body-guard to be in readiness to support the
conspirators. It appears, however, that the military men engaged in the
work were very unwilling to undertake it, unless they received a
commission from James himself. This document was therefore drawn up and
signed by the king, and on seeing it, some of them imagined that the
undertaking in which they engaged, although of a somewhat desperate
character, was as honourable as that of entering into a campaign in
regular service. Some, however, felt great doubts about the matter, as
they could not help viewing it in its true light. Among these were two
captains, Pendergrast, an Irish officer, and Fisher, an Englishman, and
a Frenchman named De la Rue, who without any agreement with each other,
at different times gave information to the Earl of Portland of the
contemplated assassination of the king.
William at first was very unwilling to believe in the plot, and it was
not without difficulty that the Earl of Portland could persuade his
Majesty not to go forth on his hunting expedition on that eventful 15th
day of February.
The greater number of the conspirators not having received such early
information as did Sir George Barclay, continued to meet, even on that
very day, hoping still to carry out their plan on the following
Saturday. They were nearly all seized, most of them in their beds,
before they had received any notice of the discovery of the plot.
Charnock, who had been a Fellow of Magdalen College, Oxford, and had
become its Popish vice-president, was an indefatigable agent of the
Jacobites. So completely imbued had he become with Jesuitical
principles, that he had persuaded himself that he had full right to
murder the king, having as he supposed a commission from the person he
considered the legal proprietor of the throne. He offered to disclose
all he knew of the consultations and designs of the Jacobites, if his
life were spared, and the reply of King William is worthy of note: "I
desire not to know them," feeling assured probably, that many were in it
whom he hoped still to win over by generosity and kindness.
Sir John Friend and Sir William Parkyns were next tried, and were
executed, on being found guilty, at Tyburn, on which occasion three of
the non-juring clergy attended them, and had the audacity at the place
of execution to give them public absolution, with an imposition of hands
in the view of all people, for the act in which they had been engaged.
Sir John Fenwick, was captured shortly after the discovery of the plot,
while attempting to escape to France. His trial lasted for a
considerable time. He was, however, clearly found guilty, and executed.
He richly merited the fate he met, for although he did not propose to
assassinate the king, his aim was to bring over an army of foreigners,
and subjugate those of his countrymen who differed from him in opinion,
and to re-establish the Romish faith in England.
The people had before this been grumbling at the British fleet being
detained so long at Spithead by contrary winds, but it was the presence
of this fleet which contributed greatly to prevent James from attempting
to cross the channel with an army placed under his command by the French
king. Immediately also on hearing of the plot, a number of seamen who
had remained concealed for fear of the press-gangs, came forward and
volunteered on board the various ships which had commenced fitting out.
Indeed the discovery of this abominable Jacobite plot had such an effect
upon the nation generally, that many who formerly pitied the condition
of the exiled king, were now completely alienated from him, by this
means producing a more perfect establishment of King William on the
throne.
John Deane's residence in the fens, and the experience he there gained
in finding his way across country, assisted him greatly in the ride he
was now taking northward. He had carefully noted every spot as he came
by with Long Sam, and he was thus able to ride forward without having to
inquire the road. His nerves were well strung and he was
constitutionally brave; but never before had he felt so uncomfortable as
he now did. Every moment he expected to have Long Sam galloping after
him; and he felt very sure that those who contemplated the assassination
of the king would not hesitate to kill him, if they fancied it would
conduce to their safety or interest to put him out of the way. He could
not help expecting also to be stopped by adherents of King William who
might have heard of the plot and would naturally inquire why he was thus
spurring onward away from London. They might, he thought, suppose that
he was one of the conspirators. It could be shown that he had been
associating with those who had engaged in the plot. He might thus
probably from being unable to prove his innocence, lose his life along
with them.
He rode on through that long winter's night without stopping. His horse
was well trained, having both spirit and bottom; and thus daylight found
him still pressing onward. At length he was obliged to pull up at the
sign of the Fox and Chickens, a small roadside inn some fifty miles or
more from London. The landlord eyed him askance as he led his horse
into the stable, and began carefully to rub down the animal, to prepare
it for its food.
"Will it please you to take some breakfast, my master?" asked Boniface,
with a peculiar expression. "You seem to have ridden pretty hard since
sunrise?"
"Yes," answered Jack; "my poor beast has borne me well. He has a few
more miles to go before I can stable him for the night; and he needs
rest and refreshment more than I do after his gallop over these bad
roads."
"I will go in and tell my dame to get breakfast for you," said the
landlord, "while you are looking after your horse. I like to see a man
treat his beast well, as you are doing; and you deserve the best rasher
my dame can cook for you."
The landlord was as good as his word; and when shortly afterwards Jack
entered the inn, he found a dish smoking on the board, and a tankard of
good ale standing by its side. His anxiety had not deprived him of his
appetite; and he resolved, if his horse could hold out, to push on till
nightfall. He, however, was not perfectly satisfied with the manner of
his host, and could not help fancying that he suspected him of being
either a highwayman or a fugitive from justice; and every time the door
opened, he expected to see a bailiff or a Government official of some
sort enter, to interrogate him as to what he was about and where he was
going. He fully experienced the truth of Shakspeare's saying,
"Conscience does make cowards of us all"! As soon, therefore, as he
thought his horse was in a condition again to take to the road, he
started up, and paying his score, walked out to the stables. The
landlord followed him, and touched him on the shoulder.
"I like your looks, young master," he said; "but still there are one or
two things about you which might excite suspicion. I would advise you,
therefore, not to stop at any large town, if you have again to put up
before you reach your destination."
Jack, while he thanked the landlord for his kind intentions, put on an
indifferent air, as if his advice was unnecessary, and springing into
the saddle, wished him good-day, and trotted at an easy pace till he was
out of sight of the inn. He then once again put spurs to his steed, and
away he flew along the road Master Pearson had not over-praised his
horse when he told him that at a push he could cover a long distance,
for, bad as was the road in many places, the good steed never stumbled
nor hesitated, but kept up his pace, as if well aware that much depended
on the progress he could make.
The farther north Jack advanced the better he knew the country; and as
he found that it would be impossible to get to the other side of
Nottingham that night, he turned aside off the high-road, to put up at
the house of a miller, where he had several times stopped when making
holiday excursions from Nottingham. The man was hearty and
good-natured, with a buxom, kind wife, and a pretty little daughter. He
thought he might there possibly gain some information of what had taken
place at home, and be guided accordingly. He might probably also,
should his own good steed be unable to proceed, obtain another horse
from the miller, on which to continue his journey to Harwood Grange. It
was getting dark as Jack rode up to the mill, and he found the miller
knocking off work and disconnecting his water-wheels.
"Don't you know me, Master Simpson?" said Jack, as the miller stared at
him from beneath his well-powdered brows.
"Ay, in troth, that do I! Mr John Deane, if I mistake not," answered
the honest miller. "Why, lad, you seem to have ridden hard this
evening! What is your pleasure?"
"A night's rest, and some food for my horse and myself," answered Jack,
dismounting. "You will give it me, like a kind man, and ask no
questions. I have business of importance which takes me some distance
from hence, and I'm afraid if I were to ride on through the night with
my tired steed, that we both of us should roll in the mud before day
dawns."
The miller made Jack welcome; and, having stabled his horse as usual, he
was soon seated opposite pretty Margery Simpson, by the side of the kind
dame. Jack had to confess that he had not been at home for some time,
in order to make inquiries respecting his friends at Nottingham. He
could, however, gain no information; but the miller told him that as
soon as the roads dried up a little with the March winds, he purposed
going there. It struck Jack, therefore, that by this means he might
communicate with his family, and fortunately having some paper in his
valise, he was able to write a few lines to his brother Jasper. He told
him of his welfare, and that he purposed immediately going on board a
man-of-war, and seeking his fortunes at sea.
"I will not enter into my reasons, brother Jasper," he wrote; "but I
find the land not suited for me, and I wish to prove my loyalty to our
brave King William, and to seek for adventures on the ocean, where, I
have an idea, more gold, and as much honour is to be gained as on
shore."
Jack sent his best love to his father and mother and sisters, and begged
that they would not forget him, or condemn him, whatever they might hear
to his discredit. He carefully sealed this letter, which Master Simpson
promised faithfully to deliver either to Jasper, or to Polly, should the
former be absent from home.
"Now, Master Simpson, I will ask you still another favour; the moon will
be up in four or five hours: let me sleep till then, and allow me to
rise and proceed on my way. I shall thus reach the end of my journey
soon after daybreak, where I can get further rest for myself and horse."
Although the good miller at first objected to this, Jack induced him to
agree to let him take his departure. The air was bitterly cold, for the
wind was from the north and a sharp frost had set in, and Jack feared
lest a snowstorm should come on and impede his progress. He was
therefore thankful that he had started at that early hour, hoping
without impediment to reach Harwood Grange. His good steed, after a few
hours' rest, carried him as well as when he first started from
Hammersmith, and the sun had only just risen as he rode up the avenue to
the Grange. He was anxious to make as little disturbance as possible,
and he therefore at once rode up to the stable, and begged the groom to
attend to his horse while he went up to the house. The man, who did not
know him, seemed indisposed at first to obey his orders.
"It is a matter of importance," said Jack; "and I may have but little
time to rest my tired beast."
As the housemaid was just opening the front door, Jack entered, and
learned that the Squire was already on foot, and that Mistress Alethea
would soon be down to breakfast. Jack hurried into the Squire's own
room, where he was examining several fire-arms, placed against the wall.
"Mr Harwood," he exclaimed, "I fear that you are in danger! If you
have been connected with those engaged in the conspiracy to bring over a
foreign army, and to dethrone King William, let me urge you to fly or to
conceal yourself. The plot has been discovered!"
Mr Harwood turned deadly pale on hearing this, and trembled in every
limb.
"I am deeply thankful to you for the warning you have given me," he
answered. "But what am I to do? I cannot leave my daughter, and know
not where to conceal myself."
"Mistress Alethea will surely find a welcome and shelter in the house of
my father," answered Jack. "I will endeavour to assist you to escape to
a place of safety. It may be that no one will search for you here; but
if you think it more advisable to go abroad, I will accompany you either
to Yarmouth or Harwich, where you may take ship and get across to
France."
Mr Harwood overwhelmed Jack with thanks, and gladly accepted his offer.
Their plans were scarcely arranged when Alethea entered the room. She
showed far more courage than her father had done on hearing of the
discovery of the plot, though anxious about his safety. She at once
declared her intention of accompanying him.
"That cannot be, my child!" said Mr Harwood. "You know not the
difficulties and dangers I may have to go through; and though you might
be willing to share them, they must of necessity be greatly increased
should you be with me. We have friends in this neighbourhood who will,
I am sure, take charge of you. With them you will live happily and
securely; and I trust that in a short time, when this matter has blown
over, I may be able to return once more to England."
Jack's heart beat violently when he heard these remarks of Mr Harwood.
"Oh, yes!" he exclaimed; "I feel sure that my mother and sisters will
gladly afford all the protection Miss Harwood requires. I wish that I
could accompany her to Nottingham. Could I not do it, and rejoin you,
Mr Harwood?"
"What, and run the risk of being apprehended yourself?" exclaimed the
Squire. "No; I will send Alethea under the escort of two trusty grooms
with her tirewoman, and will throw myself on the kindness of your
family. Already I am deeply indebted to them, and shall but add to the
obligation."
The Squire spoke with some hesitation. Even at that moment his
aristocratic feelings influenced him, and he felt as if he was honouring
the Deane family by thus confiding his daughter to their charge. Some
time had thus passed when the Squire recollected that Jack must require
food.
"It would never do to set forward without being prepared," he observed.
"Take your breakfast with Alethea, while I go and put together such
valuables as it may be prudent for me to carry; and you, my daughter,
will take the remainder, for I know not, should I be informed against,
what will be the fate of the old Grange and of the estate my fathers
have held for so many centuries."
Jack, as he sat by the side of Alethea endeavouring to eat his
breakfast, in vain tried to utter the sentiments with which his heart
was full. Whenever he attempted to speak he hesitated and stammered,
and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Alethea was more
serious, naturally, than he had ever seen her before.
"I foresaw that it might come to this," she said, at last, to Jack.
"But, do you know, I rather glory in suffering for what I believe to be
a right cause!"
"But oh, Miss Harwood," exclaimed Jack, now able to speak, "surely no
cause would justify the means by which the conspirators have attempted
to carry out their project--to murder the great and brave king! Surely
nothing can justify assassination!"
"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Alethea. "But surely those with whom my father
was associated have not attempted to commit so fearful a crime?"
"Most certainly the crime was contemplated," answered Jack. "I heard
the whole plan discussed, but whether Mr Harwood's especial friends
were acquainted with it or not, I cannot say; but of one thing I feel
very sure, from what I heard, that James was well aware of the project,
and sanctioned it by the countenance he gave to those who undertook to
carry it out."
"If I were sure of that," exclaimed Alethea, with a tone of indignation,
"my whole feelings towards King James would be changed! While I thought
him an honourable and an injured man, and the rightful sovereign of
these realms, my feelings were in his favour; but if his principles
would allow him to act as you describe, then I cannot but feel that the
nobles and commons of England were right in their dread of having such a
man to reign over them."
"I wish Mr Harwood had seen matters in that light before he allowed
himself to be drawn into the plot!" said Jack. "Perhaps, however, he
may now be induced to do so. If so, when those who have principally
engaged in it have suffered the penalty of their crimes, he will
probably be allowed to return home, and live quietly as heretofore. For
my own part, as I have been consorting with the king's enemies, though
unknowingly, I have determined, from henceforth, to fight for him and
his friends, and to try my fortune on the ocean. It will be more to my
taste than being pinched up in breastplate and helmet, and having to
fight on shore. I may there win a name and fame, Alethea; and perchance
when I come back I may look forward to--"
Whatever Jack was going to say was interrupted by the entrance of Mr
Harwood. As may be supposed, he had but a small appetite for breakfast,
though pressed by his daughter, who in every way tried to keep up his
spirits, to partake of it. The steward and head groom were ordered to
accompany Miss Harwood into Nottingham, while his own fleetest hunter
was to be got ready to start as soon as Jack's horse was sufficiently
rested.
In vain Jack waited for an opportunity to finish the sentence he had
begun, for having, as he thought, broken the ice, he hoped to get yet
farther in, but just as the party were rising from breakfast, which had
been put off to a later hour than usual, a visitor was announced, and
Jasper Deane entered the room. His surprise at seeing Jack was very
great. They greeted each other, however, as affectionate brothers,
though Jasper refrained from asking Jack questions which it might have
been disagreeable to him to answer in the presence of Alethea and Mr
Harwood.
"I am sure, Jasper, you will answer for our parents being ready to
receive Miss Harwood," said Jack, "during the temporary absence of her
father. I have brought him some news, with which I need not trouble
you, which requires him to leave home immediately."
"Why not trust me?" answered Jasper; "surely I would not betray Mr
Harwood's secrets!"
"For your own sake it may be better for you not to know them," answered
Jack. "It is time that we should be on our road. Bear my duty to my
father and mother and my love to our sisters, and I will write to them
of my proceedings as soon as I have an opportunity."
Jack saw that Mr Harwood was impatient to be off, while he himself knew
the importance of losing no time in getting to a place of safety; he had
no opportunity, therefore, of asking Jasper questions as to what had
taken place at Nottingham, nor did he himself wish to tell him what he
had been about. He merely mentioned his letter entrusted to the miller.
"That will tell you more about my intentions," he observed. If a pang
of jealousy crossed his heart when he saw his brother ride off by the
side of Alethea, he quickly banished it, and immediately afterwards he
and Mr Harwood, with their valises strapped to their saddles, were
making their way through the forest to the east.