Transcriber's Notes:
1. Page scan source:
https://books.google.com/books?id=djYoAQAAIAAJ
The Works of GPR James, Esq. Volume 17
(University of California, Davis)
[Illustration: Frontispiece]
GOWRIE:
OR,
THE KING'S PLOT.
BY
G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ.
LONDON:
SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, AND CO.
STATIONERS' HALL COURT.
MDCCCXLVIII.
THE WORKS
OF
G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ.
REVISED AND CORRECTED BY THE AUTHOR.
WITH AN INTRODUCTORY PREFACE.
"D'autres auteurs l'ont encore plus avili, (le roman,) en y mêlant les
tableaux dégoutant du vice; et tandis que le premier avantage des
fictions est de rassembler autour de l'homme tout ce qui, dans la
nature, peut lui servir de leçon ou de modèle, on a imaginé qu'on
tirerait une utilité quelconque des peintures odieuses de mauvaises
m[oe]urs; comme si elles pouvaient jamais; laisser le c[oe]ur qui les
repousse, dans une situation aussi pure que le c[oe]ur qui les aurait
toujours Ignorées. Mais un roman tel qu'on peut le concevoir, tel que
nous en avons quelques modèles, est une des plus belles productions de
l'esprit humain, une des plus influentes sur la morale des individus,
qui doit former ensuite les m[oe]urs publiques."--MADAME DE STAËL.
_Essai sur les Fictions_.
"Poca favilla gran flamma seconda:
Forse diretro a me, con miglior voci
Si pregherà, perchè Cirra risonda."
DANTE. _Paradiso_, Canto I.
VOL. XVII.
GOWRIE.
LONDON:
SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, AND CO.
STATIONERS' HALL COURT.
MDCCCXLVIII.
NOTICE.
The Author is aware that the Frontispiece of this Work is very bad; but
in justice to the Engraver, he thinks it fair to state, that in
consequence of a necessary change in the publishing arrangements, a
space of time totally insufficient was all that could be allowed for
the device of a subject, and the execution of the plate. Another
illustration, for insertion in "Gowrie," will be given in the
succeeding volume of this edition.
TO
HER GRACE
THE DUCHESS OF NORTHUMBERLAND.
Madam,
Man's mind lives too much upon credit. We borrow our thoughts and
opinions, and too often trade with the intellectual property of
others, when it would be much better for every man to cultivate his
own little field, and bring its original produce to market, if he
would but be content with what God has given him.
In the pages which I here present to your Grace, I have plainly and
boldly stated my own opinion regarding one of the darkest transactions
in history; and after much and various reading upon the subject, I am
confirmed in the belief that this opinion is just, though I have
conveyed it in the form of fiction. Many, and indeed most, of our best
historians, have taken an opposite view of the case; but in putting
forth my own, I have not been moved by any ambition of originality,
and indeed can here lay claim to that quality, only in a limited
degree; for others in various ages have advanced the same opinions in
regard to the innocence of the Earl of Gowrie, and the guilt of the
king, which I have expressed in the present work. However that may be,
my own view was taken, and my judgment formed, before I was aware that
any others had entertained the same. I had only read, in short, the
accounts of the Gowrie Conspiracy which had been written by persons
who came to a different conclusion. It was from their own statements,
and more especially from that of King James himself, that I was led to
believe, at an early period, that of which I am convinced now. Nearly
four years ago, I found in the correspondence of Henry IV. of France a
letter from the King of Scotland, giving his own account of this
bloody transaction, and my note upon it at the time was to the
following effect:--"This is more than improbable. It is to suppose
that the earl, his brother, and the king, were all seized with sudden
madness; for nothing else could account for the conduct of either of
the three, if this story were true."
I have since read very nearly all that has been written upon the
subject, except other works of fiction, of which I have not seen one,
though I am told there are several; and every particle of historical
evidence which I have met with has tended to impress upon my mind the
firm belief that the last Earl of Gowrie was as amiable, as
enlightened, and as innocent of all offence against the king as any
man in Scotland. His name, his race, his position, and his opinions,
rendered him obnoxious to the king; and he died as in these pages I
have attempted to show. I find, on reading the letters and memoirs of
contemporaries, that very few persons believed him guilty, and that
King James had recourse to all the resources of persecution, in order
to silence the many voices which too loudly proclaimed him innocent.
It may seem strange that I introduce such topics into a dedication,
which is generally reserved for expressions of respect and esteem; but
an appeal to the understanding is, I believe, no bad testimony of
respect; and I am quite sure that your Grace will receive it as such;
for I know that in kindly permitting me to dedicate this work to your
name, you neither needed nor desired any public expression of the
respect, the esteem, and the gratitude, with which
I have the honour to be,
Madam,
Your Grace's
Most humble servant,
G. P. R. JAMES.
Willey House, near Farnham, Surrey,
27th June, 1848.
ADVERTISEMENT.
In laying before the public in one volume a work of equal extent with
those which are usually produced in three volumes, and in placing in
the general collection of my romances an entirely new composition, I
may be expected to say something of the motives which have induced me
to follow such a course.
Some years ago, when a question was agitated amongst Ministers and in
Parliament, as to whether it was expedient or not to give British
authors increased facilities for maintaining their just rights against
foreigners who reprinted their works and used every unscrupulous means
to introduce their pirated editions into various parts of the British
dominions, Government was induced to decide in the affirmative, not
upon the one-sided and partial statement of authors and publishers,
but on a general and very extensive view of the subject, as affecting
the country at large. While the question was under consideration, many
long and important discussions took place, in which I bore a principal
share; and while I endeavoured to support, to the best of my
abilities, the just claims of British authors, the then President of
the Board of Trade, the Right Honourable W. E. Gladstone, with
consummate ability and great scope of view, maintained the general
interests of the public. Although the right of the British author was
never contested, some apprehension was expressed--I believe by Sir
Robert Peel--lest the granting of increased means of protecting that
right might have a tendency generally to increase the price of books.
When Mr. Gladstone informed me of this fact, I stated my own opinion
to be directly the reverse, and that by the extension and security of
the market, the price would be rather diminished than increased. I
need not here enter into all the arguments I used to show that such
must naturally be the case, but I stated, at the same time, my
readiness, upon certain acts being passed, to use every means in my
power to avert the evil which Government apprehended, by making an
effort to diminish the price of books. From various causes since that
period, the price has greatly diminished; but I do not mean to assert
that the diminution has been caused alone by the facilities that were
ultimately granted, although they have operated in that direction to a
considerable extent.
For my own part, even before all the measures were taken which had
been contemplated, I fulfilled my engagement to Government by
diminishing the price of my next work by one third. The result was
unfavourable, as, indeed, I had anticipated. The increased sale by no
means compensated for the diminution of price. I was a loser to a
considerable extent, and the publisher no gainer by the experiment.
I was afterwards told that the diminution was not sufficient to
produce any great effect; and I resolved to make another trial, though
anticipating but one result. Such is my motive for giving one entire
new work of fiction at about one fourth of the sum which is ordinarily
charged. My reason for placing it in this edition is, that the
collection having already some hold upon the public, and the sale
being considerable, the experiment has the better chance of success,
while the effect will be favourable rather than otherwise upon the
collection itself.
I need only farther say, that I have no doubt whatsoever of the
result--namely, that the increase of sale will be in no degree
commensurate with the reduction of price; and therefore I shall never
make the experiment again.
GOWRIE:
OR
THE KING'S PLOT.
CHAPTER I.
On the 15th of August, 1599, a young man was seen standing on one of
the little bridges in the town of Padua. He was plainly dressed in an
ordinary riding habit of that period, having a short black cloak over
his shoulders, a tawny suit of cloth below, and a high crowned hat
with a plume of feathers falling on one side. In most respects his
apparel indicated no higher station than that of a respectable
citizen, and indeed citizens of his age, for he could not be more than
two-and-twenty, very frequently displayed more gaudy feathers,
although the bird they covered might be of inferior race. There were,
however, one or two marks about him which seemed to point out a
superior station. Instead of a large fraise or ruff round his neck,
which was then still common, he wore a falling collar of the richest
and most delicate lace, tied in front of the throat by a silver cord
and tassel; and though the sheath of his long rapier was merely of
black leather, the hilt of the weapon, as well as that of the dagger
to his girdle, was of silver exquisitely wrought. His large buckskin
gloves, too, were edged with a silver fringe, and embroidered upon the
back. In person he was tall and finely formed, with a highly
intelligent and expressive countenance, somewhat stern and determined,
indeed, for one so young, but yet with a strange mingling of lofty
thoughtlessness and careless ease. He was perfectly alone, though on
that day the citizens of Padua were all in full holiday, the bells of
the churches ringing, and the cannon firing from the ramparts. Every
one seemed to have got a companion but himself; and all the streets in
the interior of that city of numberless arcades, were thronged with
groups celebrating the holiday, the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin,
while he stood alone on the little bridge, as I have said, near the
Ferara gate, which was left to comparative solitude by the populace,
who were flocking to the churches. He remained in the same spot for
more than a quarter of an hour, sometimes leaning his arms on the
parapet of the bridge, and gazing down into the shining water, or
watching the labours of a stout man, less devout than his neighbours,
who still continued his work in one of the boats, with his white
shirt and his bright blue breeches reflected in the painted mirror
below--sometimes looking up the street which led to the bridge,
amongst the arches of which, groups of men and women in gay attire
were seen, appearing and disappearing as they crossed from one side to
the other. The bright sunshine of Italy was pouring in oblique lines
through the openings of the street, and as it caught from time to time
upon the brilliant dresses of the passing inhabitants, the effect was
strange and pleasing; and a city, the narrow streets and dim arcades
of which generally rendered its aspect somewhat gloomy, was now all
life and gaiety. The young stranger did not seem to take part in the
general merriment: not that he looked sad or even grave, for when he
turned his eyes up the street, and caught sight of any of the moving
groups which it presented, a smile came upon his lip, somewhat
sarcastic it is true, as if he regarded with a certain portion of
contempt the rejoicings of the people or the occasion which called
them forth, but yet cheerful and free, as of a mind untroubled which
could afford to find amusement in the little follies of others.
When he had remained in that same spot for nearly a quarter of an
hour, the loiterer was joined by another, a much more gaily habited
cavalier. The latter was about the same age, or perhaps a year or two
older, not quite so tall as his companion, though still a tall man,
darker in complexion, and powerfully though lightly made. His step was
free, his look open and sparkling; and though his features were not
strikingly handsome, yet his countenance was exceedingly pleasing, and
not the less striking from some degree of irregularity.
"Ever exact to time and place, Signor Johannes," said the latter,
grasping the hand of him who had been waiting; "and now, I dare say,
you have been accusing my tardiness and want of punctuality; but, upon
my life, what between folly in the morning, study at mid-day, business
in the afternoon, and emotions in the evening, I have had my hands
full; so be not angry, good my lord."
"Heaven forbid," replied the other; "he that were angry with want of
punctuality in you, Hume, would quarrel with a lark for singing, or an
owl for hooting, and might spend his whole time in fretting his spirit
at the nature of his friend. Besides, you made no promise to be here.
I wrote, fixing my own hour, and taking my chance of its suiting you."
"But why all this mystery, and why this sober suit?" exclaimed the
other, taking hold of his cloak, with a gay laugh; "this smells
strongly of Geneva; and your brown jerkin is worthy of a true disciple
of Beza. In pity, John, do not let him affect the outward man. Be as
rigid as you will in resisting the powers of the Babylonian lady on
your heart and mind, but do not carry your religion into taffeta, or
suffer tenets to interfere with silk and satin. The religion that
kills one innocent joy, is not the religion of Him who more than once
told us to rejoice; and I cannot help thinking, that those who
prescribe particular clothing for particular ceremonies, and those who
proscribe it upon all occasions, are equally foolish and wrong."
"And so do I," answered his companion; "you will not find me altered
in the least in those things; but the cause of my homely suit, and the
mystery of my coming is the same, and very simple. I did not wish to
be recognised by any of our good teachers here in this learned
university, nor by any of our old companions but yourself. To show
you, however, that I am no fanatic, know that I am even now on my way
to Rome, to see the wonders of the eternal city and his holiness the
Pope, though I shall not certainly ask his blessing, from a very
strong doubt of its doing me any good."
"There I agree with you," replied his friend; "though the blessing of
a good man can never do one any harm, and there might be worse men
than Clement; but what have you done with your retinue? Where are all
the servants, where the famous tutor, Dominie Rhind?"
"Gone on to Monselice," replied the other, "there to wait for my
coming, if they can find room in the little inn, and if not, to travel
farther, to Rovigo. But you have my messenger with you, have you not?
I bade him wait my coming."
"Good sooth have I," answered the other, "and the mad knave has kept
the whole of Padua in an uproar for the last three days. What between
jeering the men, making love to the women, and playing with the
children, he has made friends and enemies enough to serve a man a
lifetime."
"He is incorrigible!" said his friend, with an air of vexation. "I was
forced to send him away from Geneva, for Beza would not tolerate him,
and I loved not to see the good old man distressed. But the fellow
promised amendment, and he is so attached and faithful, that his
virtues and his vices, like a Spanish olla, are blended into a very
savoury dish, though of the most opposite ingredients. I laid strict
injunctions upon him to be discreet, and above all, never to mention
my name."
"That last point of discretion he has most strictly maintained,"
replied the more gaily dressed cavalier; "for even to me he has never
pronounced the forbidden word, always expressing his meaning by some
periphrasis, such as 'the noble gentleman you wot of,' 'the worshipful
writer of the letter,' 'him who shall be nameless,' and so forth, ever
eking out the sense with a raised eyebrow and thumb jerked back over
his shoulder, as if he were speaking of the devil, and owned Beelzebub
for his master. But now let us to your inn, where supper and a small
room are provided for you according to your behest, and there you
shall tell me what has brought you back to this fair Italian land, and
I will relate what has occurred to me since last we met."
"My errand in Italy is soon told," said his comrade, with a smile. "I
come to buy some pictures to adorn my poor house at Perth. It were a
shame to have dwelt so long in Italy, and not to carry back something
of the Caracci's handiwork. I will see Annibale, and Ludovick too, and
Caravaggio. I have heard, too, of a young painter named Reni--Guido
Reni they call him, who is now making some noise at Bologna. One
picture said to be his I have seen, full of grace and beauty, and if
he so paint he will soon be famous in all the world--why do you
laugh?"
"Because I judge pictures alone brought you not to Padua," replied his
companion; "for in good sooth there are few worth seeing here, except
St. Anthony preaching to the fishes."
"A very unprofitable waste of good doctrine," said the other; "but let
us go--yet, we will choose the dull back streets which the students
love not, for I do not wish them to see their late Lord Rector coming
amongst them in masquerade."
"Come, then, under the walls," answered the other; and, leading the
way, he conducted his friend through several of the low and narrow
streets which abutted upon the defences, hardly meeting any one but a
labourer and an old woman or two in miserable rags, seeking amongst
the piles of rubbish, thrown out here and there in the open spaces
between the walls and the houses, for anything that poverty could make
valuable. At length they were obliged to turn into one of the larger
streets; but ten steps therein brought them to a narrow doorway under
one of the arcades, where they entered and mounted a long dirty stair.
At the first landing was a door on the left, through which they passed
into a little ante-room, where at a table was seated a young man
dressed as a servant, but without badge or cognizance, as was usual
with the domestics of great families at that period. If one might
judge from his face, which was ugly enough to be funny, and funny
enough to be beautiful--I do not love paradoxes, but I am driven into
one--he was not a personage very much given to grave contemplations.
Nevertheless, on the present occasion he was so seriously occupied
with the piece of work he had in hand, that for an instant he did not
observe the entrance of the two gentlemen we have mentioned. That
piece of work was indeed a very important and elaborate one, at least
in his opinion--namely, the cutting out, in small blocks of soft wood,
a variety of grotesque heads, in which his inventive genius displayed
itself by producing noses such as never were seen on any human
countenance, eyes of every degree of obliquity, and chins, some
retreating, as if afraid of the portentous nasal organ which
overshadowed them, and some immeasurably protruded, as if to domineer
over the mouth that yawned above. In truth he showed no small skill in
sculpture, although his genius had taken rather an eccentric turn; and
it was evident that he enjoyed his own performance very much, for his
first salutation to his master was a loud laugh, as he contemplated
the extraordinary physiognomy he had just carved. Then, awakening to
the more sober realities of life, he started up, laying down the knife
and wood upon the table, and saying, with a low bow, "Welcome to
Padua, noble sir; better late than never; nothing's lost that is not
at the bottom of the sea. It is a long lane that has never a turning.
A man cannot be too late who has time enough."
"Spare your proverbs, good Master Jute," replied his master, the
stranger who had been waiting on the bridge; "I find that,
notwithstanding all your promises of reformation and sobriety, you
have been setting the whole town in an uproar."
"Not so, indeed, my noble lord; with the best intentions I have not
had time to get through more than the French quarter. I hurried here
as fast as possible, both to do your will and my own, seeing that I
have been pent up like a brawn in a stye for the last three months;
but still I have not had time enough. As for promises, although, like
pie-crusts, they are made to be broken, and he who vows much performs
little, yet, from a silly fondness for a whole skin and clear
conscience, I never break mine; and I beseech your lordship to
recollect that I only promised to behave well by the shores of Lake
Leman."
"Well, well, we will talk more of that hereafter," replied his lord,
following the other gentleman towards the inner room. "I find you have
obeyed my injunction of not mentioning my name. See that you attend to
it still. And now go and order them to bring my supper up, for I have
ridden hard and fasted long."
The man made a low bow, and obeyed, while the two gentlemen proceeded
into the neighbouring chamber, and the traveller, casting himself into
a seat, said, with a sigh, the source of which might be difficult to
discover, "So, here I am, once more in Padua."