(1717.)
[Illustration: Drop-T]he streets this year were occasionally disturbed,
but violence gradually abated. Now and then there were sorrowful
sights, as exasperating as they were full of sorrow. One of these was
the procession of a hundred chained Preston prisoners from the Savoy
to the lower part of the Thames, where they were embarked to serve
as slaves in the West Indies. Such freight did not invariably reach
its destination. A few months previously, a similar freight of thirty
prisoners, similarly bound, rose upon the crew, got possession of the
vessel, and carried her to France, where they sold the ship and quietly
settled themselves in trade or service. There was a procession of
another sort, from Cheapside to Charing Cross, in January (soon after
the king’s return to England), by torchlight, which, we are told, was
very acceptable to those who saw it. It ended by burning the figures
of Pope, Pretender, & Co., at the latter place, after which the mob
drank his Majesty’s health. Thereupon, the officers at the windows of
Young Man’s coffee-house ‘returned thanks,’ and civilians at other
windows followed with similar speeches! All anniversaries did not pass
so happily, because the Whigs were the most readily irritated.…. A
man with an oak apple in his hat, on May 29th, walked the causeway in
danger of a broken head, and a too audacious fellow mounting a turnip
was certain to be knocked down, as insulting King George (who had
threatened to turn St. James’s Park into a turnip ground), unless the
bearer of the audacious symbol took the initiative, with confederates,
and knocked down those who looked at him too angrily. Ruffianism was
not confined to the common folk afoot. There is record of a gentleman
leaping from his chariot to tear a white rose from the bosom of a
Jacobite young lady, on the Pretender’s birthday――and, after lashing
her with his whip, flinging the poor girl to a Whig mob to be stript
pretty well naked, but a body of more gallant Jacks rushed in and
escorted the young lady home.
[Sidenote: _BISHOP ATTERBURY._]
Secretly, out of the streets, treason was quietly at work.――How early
the Jacobites were again actively engaged in London, in pursuit
of their purpose, is shown in the fact that Atterbury, Bishop of
Rochester, was then in correspondence with ‘James III.’ That prince
seems to have been impatient at Atterbury’s silence as to how the new
project was progressing. ‘I depended upon it,’ said the prelate in his
letter of reply, ‘that the best construction would be put upon that
silence by one who was well acquainted with the manner in which I was
employed,’ The bishop was then in the full strength of his manhood and
his intellect. Born in 1662, the son of a country parson, he passed
creditably through Westminster and Oxford. He was ordained priest in
his 30th year, and was one of the most ‘pushing’ men of his time.
When a tutor at the University, he complained to his father of the
unsatisfactoriness of his prospects. The father treated his son to both
rebuke and counsel. ‘You have only,’ he said, ‘to put your trust in
God, and marry a Bishop’s daughter!’ Atterbury did as well by marrying
Kate Osborn, daughter of Sir Thomas Osborn, a pretty girl, with a
handsome dower of 7,000_l._
[Sidenote: _JACOBITE CONGREGATIONS._]
The course taken by Atterbury was known to a few only; but there
was strong suspicion against him and Sacheverel. The Whigs sent
‘note-takers’ to write down the remarks made by them in the pulpit,
and the muscular Christians and Jacobites flung these reporters into
the street. On the last Sunday in May, after the Act of Grace had
been issued, Dr. Sacheverel preached at St. Clement’s, in the Strand,
‘a virulent and railing sermon. He was attended,’ according to the
Whig papers, ‘by a numerous mob who testified their approbation of
his Billingsgate discourse, by huzzaing him to his coach. So that we
find other Princes have savage Beasts to govern, besides the Czar
of Muscovy.’ It took very little to offend the orthodox Whigs. In
July, after the trial of the Earl of Oxford had come to nothing,
that nobleman, with his son and brother, attended at Lincoln’s Inn
Chapel, and took the sacrament! The clerk was savagely censured, by
Whig writers, for selecting the 124th Psalm to be repeated on this
occasion, ‘in respect of which,’ say the loyal papers, ‘we refer
our readers to their Common Prayer Books,’――where they would find
the acknowledgment that the Lord saveth him against whom the wicked
combine.――A much more serious affair was the mustering of the drummers
of the Guards in front of Lord Oxford’s house, where they beat a point
of war, in congratulation of his escape. That they were all locked up
in the Marshalsea, on bread and water, was a small penalty for such
impudent insubordination.
[Sidenote: _LIBERTY USED, AND ABUSED._]
It was said of the motive which produced the Act of Grace that the
king, having nothing to fear, was inclined to be merciful. The
messengers’ houses were cleared of ‘the King’s witnesses’ (men who
had saved their necks by giving testimony against their old Jacobite
comrades)――where they had been in custody, and Jacobite gentlemen
captives were removed from the Tower, Newgate, and Marshalsea, to the
more tolerable custody of the messengers. Several were persuaded to ask
for transportation, and they obtained it as a favour. The ministry had
so softened that, hearing Lord Duffus had not wherewithal to subsist
handsomely in the Tower, they allowed him three pounds, weekly! They
were a little troubled when they found that the prisoners at large
resorted publicly to Nonjuring chapels, and that they talked too loudly
and insolently in Jacobite coffee-houses. This was not the case with
all. One of the Mackintoshes, called ‘the Laird,’ was so touched by the
royal clemency, he protested that if another rebellion should ever
break out, he would lead a thousand of his clan in support of King
George. ◆[Sidenote: _JACOBITES AT LARGE._]◆ On the other hand, one of
the Talbots talked so saucily, when the order of release for himself
and others came down to Newgate, that he was detained in custody to
teach him better manners. So, Dalzell, uncle of Lord Carnwath, who had
been condemned to die, but was removed, with others, to wardship under
a messenger, was re-committed to the Tower, for ‘impudently frequenting
company who talked too freely against the present government, and
whose seditious and licentious pamphlets were read and handed about.’
Meanwhile, mobs hailed or hissed Lord Lansdowne when he was released
from the Tower, and even the street Whigs refrained from pelting Sir
William Wyndham as he crossed Old Palace Yard, after being discharged
at the King’s Bench Bar, Westminster. A few called him ‘Flat Nose,’
popular slang for Tory! For the poorer Jacobites at large, and for the
political prisoners in custody, raffles were got up, almost exclusively
by active and sympathising women, ‘for the use of the unhappy persons
in confinement.’ Articles of dress and diet were constantly being sent
to these captives, and not unfrequently (and generally by generous
and courageous women’s help), a prisoner, from time to time, made his
escape.
[Sidenote: _AN ENTRY IN A CASH BOOK._]
The Act of Grace, however, which was dated May 6th, was slow in taking
effect――especially in the cases of the peers. It was not till September
that a pardon passed the seals――for Lord Duffus. In November, Lords
Carnwath and Widdrington, and in December Lord Nairn, pleaded their
pardon, on their knees, at the bar of the House of Lords, and were
discharged. Provision was made for them, out of their own estates,
to Widdrington, 400_l._; to Carnwath, 200_l._; and to Lord Nairn,
150_l._ a year. To Lord Duffus, having nothing, nothing was given.
Lord Nairn’s case will show how slowly liberty, with confiscation of
estates, was effected. When Lord Nairn walked, a comparatively free
man, across Tower Hill, in August, to a messenger’s house, he had been
in confinement a year and eight months. He was committed to the Tower
in December, 1715, and was liberated in August, 1717. During that time,
he was obliged to pay 3_l._ a week for his chamber, and 1_l._ as wages
for the warden who waited on and guarded him. Eleven months more were
spent before Lord Nairn got back again to Scotland. He was in London
under a sort of _surveillance_. Six months after his enlargement, he
had to appear before the House of Peers, ‘to get up his bail and make
his recognizance,’ so that he did not return to his own home till
July, 1718, all which cost him about 4,000_l._ Much of the money went
to legal advisers and Court ladies. Lord Nairn set this down in his
account book, in this blunt fashion, ‘Gave to Lawyers and Bitches,
during that time, 1,500_l._’
[Sidenote: _BISHOP ATTERBURY, THE CHEVALIER’S AGENT._]
At the very time Lord Nairn, by effect of the Act of Grace, left the
Tower, Atterbury, as his published correspondence now reveals, was
conspiring in the interest of James III. To this prince, the bishop
addressed a letter from London, in which is the following passage:――‘My
actions, I hope, have spoken for me better than any letters could do.…
I have for many years past neglected no opportunity (and particularly
no advantage my station afforded me) towards promoting the service.…
My daily prayer to God is that you may have success in the just cause
wherein you are engaged. I doubt not but He will at last grant it, and
in such a manner as to make it a blessing not only to your fast friends
and faithful servants, but even to those who have been and are still
averse to the thoughts of it. God be thanked, their numbers increase
daily.… May I live to see that day’ (of success to the Stuarts) ‘and
live no longer than I do whatever is in my power to forward it.’
On the other hand, to cultivate loyalty and gain popularity, the Prince
and Princess of Wales continued to make the Thames their highway, in
summer time. They made frequent voyages to Putney and Hampton Court,
and did not forget to propitiate those who were worth the trouble of
it. Oxford, for the most part, hated the royal Hanoverian family. On
one of these water excursions, the Princess, meeting an Oxford barge,
went on board. She ate of the barge meat and bread, and drank out of
the bargemen’s bowl. To each of the men, she gave two guineas. The men,
after arriving at Oxford, went through the city with tokens in their
hats; ‘and,’ says Hearne, ‘carrying their bowl to Balliol College, were
made drunk there, by the care of Dr. Baron, our Vice-Chancellor.’
[Sidenote: _MORE PROSECUTIONS._]
Notwithstanding these amenities, those in authority were conscious that
danger threatened ‘the happy establishment,’ and their ‘messengers’
were kept actively employed. In the course of this year a messenger and
constables entered a house in Plough Yard, Fetter Lane, and arrested
one of the inmates. His name was Francia, and he passed for a Jew
and general dealer. Letters and papers were seized in his room. They
treated of business in such a way as to read also very like treason,
at least, they could be so interpreted. Francia was carried before
Lord Townshend, Secretary of State. He and Mr. Harvey of Combe were
charged with holding traitorous correspondence with Alban Butler of
Cambray, and the Duke d’Aumont. Francia seems to have been, at once,
pressed to give evidence against Harvey. At the interview with Lord
Townshend, the latter put in Francia’s hand five guineas. The Secretary
said it was done out of charity. Francia looked on it as a bribe. He
took the money, and as he failed to be as communicative as it was at
first hoped he would be, Francia was committed to Newgate. At his
trial, he challenged nearly every juryman on the panel. One of them
was a Sir Dennis Dutry, latinized on the usual list as ‘Dionysius,’
which, Francia insisted, was not Latin for Dennis, but the Chief Baron
declared that it _was_, and, after many other frivolous objections were
disposed of, the trial proceeded; Francia pleading ‘Not Guilty.’
[Sidenote: _TRIAL OF FRANCIA._]
Jekyll, in opening the case, used a singular expression with regard to
the rebellion of ‘15, which, he said, ‘was not publicly known till his
Majesty _was pleased_, in July, to acquaint the public with the coming
invasion.’ The letters and papers seized in Francia’s lodgings referred
to business transactions, under which form the rebellion was clearly
to be understood. The prisoner’s defence was that he was an alien,
born at Bordeaux, in 1675, and owed no allegiance to King George, but
also, that he had practised no treason against him. The main feature
of the defence was that Francia was accused because he had refused
to bear false evidence against Harvey, for which purpose Townshend
had given him money. One Mary Meggison swore that being in the same
room in Newgate, with Francia, she heard an agent of the Government
press Francia to swear Harvey’s life away. If the agent did not see
her it was because the room was ‘the Lion’s den’ and was as ‘dark as
pitch.’ Lord Townshend swore by all his great gods, that he had been
moved solely by compassion when he put the five guineas into Francia’s
hands,――partly, however, also, as it would seem, because Francia, when
he was first brought before my Lord, had made some disclosures, and
had sworn to the truth of them on a Hebrew book――produced in court.
‘Ah!’ said Mr. Hungerford, the Jew’s counsel, taking up the book, ‘I
understand a little Hebrew. This is a book to pray by――not swear by. It
is a collection of Jewish prayers and rituals, I believe taken out of
Maimonides. You had better send it to the learned Montfaucon in Paris;
he is compiling some critical observations on the Eastern languages.’
What purpose that might have served does not appear. The only
important circumstance was that the Secretary of State swore vehemently
one way; the Jew, as vehemently in an opposite direction; and that the
Jury believing Francia――acquitted him accordingly.――The subsequent
jollity in Fetter Lane, and Jacobite resorts, generally, showed that
Francia, be he what he might, was not a supporter of ‘the Elector of
Hanover.’
[Sidenote: _PATTEN’S ‘HISTORY OF THE LATE REBELLION.’_]
Support came from other quarters――from the Press and from the
Stage;――from Mr. Patten, the priest, and Colley Cibber, the player. In
literature, undoubtedly, _the_ book of the year, 1717, was the Rev.
Mr. Patten’s ‘History of the late Rebellion. With original papers and
characters of the principal noblemen and gentlemen concerned in it.’
Baker and Warner’s shop, the _Black Boy_, in Paternoster Row, was beset
with parties purchasing, or with footmen sent to purchase, copies. The
ex-Jacobite knave who wrote it had the impudence to dedicate it to the
Generals Carpenter and Wills. He quite as impudently gave assurance
to the world, that it was to ‘their prudent management and unshaken
bravery,’ at Preston, ‘animated by the Justice of the CAUSE,’ that the
defeat of the Rebels (‘unfortunate Gentlemen, whose principles were
once my own,’ but ‘some of which kept themselves warm in a Chimney
Corner during the Heat of the Action’) was to be attributed.
[Sidenote: _SLANDER AGAINST THE JACOBITES._]
Of the fate of those who perished on the scaffold he speaks
unfeelingly. Of others, he asserts that they did not hesitate to bribe
all who would take their money, ‘and by that means, not unfrequently
gained their ends.’ And to this assertion, the frocked rascal adds the
following precious remark:――‘It may be said, in the Face of Heaven,
that fairer Trials were never allowed, at least, to Men who so little
deserved it.’――The critics in the coffee-houses and taverns must have
felt the regret they may have feared to express, that the Reverend
Robert Patten had not also had a trial and an issue in accordance with
his deserts.
Patten especially hated these tavern and coffee-house critics. In his
book, he is never weary of depreciating such Jacobites. He wrote of
them summarily and contemptuously in 1717, as ‘a party who are never
right hearty for the Cause, till they are mellow, as they call it,
over a bottle or two.… They do not care for venturing their carcasses
any further than the Tavern. There indeed, with their _High Church and
Ormond_! they would make men believe, who do not know them, that they
would encounter the greatest opposition in the world, but after having
consulted their pillows, and the fumes a little evaporated, it is to
be observed of them that they generally become mighty tame, and are
apt to look before they leap; and, with the snail, if you touch their
houses they hide their heads, shrink back, and pull in their horns. I
have heard Mr. Forster say he was blustered into this business by such
people as these, but that, for the time to come, he would never again
believe a drunken Tory.’
[Sidenote: _PATTEN’S DETAILS._]
Patten’s narrative greatly amused the Londoners, who were the first
to read it. He delights in it, in speaking sarcastically of the
Clergy, whether they were High-flyers or of the lower-soaring party.
He describes the perplexity into which he, and other parsons with
the Jacobite army, put simple country vicars and their curates by
requiring them to pray for ‘James III., Mary, Queen Mother, and all
the dutiful branches of the Royal Family!’ Some clerics modestly
declined and handed their churches to Patten or his colleague, Buxton.
Others, simply refused, but sat in church, and while Patten, in the
pulpit, prayed for James, they made mental protest which was taken as
acquiescing. Patten confesses that he himself preached genuine Jacobite
sermons. One of the strongest against King George was on the text,
Deut. XXI., 17, ‘The right of the first-born.’ Patten so well served
the Hanoverian Right, after he came to London, that the king could not
hang him, as he deserved. This cleric seemed even to be sorry at the
escape of some of his confederates who did _not_ turn king’s evidence.
There was Edward Tildesley, the Papist who was acquitted by the jury of
the Marshalsea, ‘though,’ says the scandalised Patten, ‘it was proved
that he had a troop and entered Preston at the head of it with his
sword drawn. _But his sword had a Silver Handle!_’ In another instance,
he seems to turn unconsciously to his Jacobite proclivities, and
probably there was many a laugh in the Jacobite Walk, in the Park, over
Patten’s story of one Mr. Guin, who went into all the churches on the
way of the march, where Patten served as chaplain, ‘and scratched out
his Majesty King George’s name, and placed the Pretender’s so nicely
that it resembled print very much, and the alteration could scarce be
perceived.’
[Sidenote: _DOWNRIGHT SHIPPEN._]
An idea still prevailed, with ministers, that loyalty could be secured
by binding it by an oath. One of the curious sights of the year was the
assembling, by summons, of a thousand Middlesex tavern-keepers in front
of Hicks’s Hall, where announcement was made to them that, in future,
no licence would be granted save to those who had taken the oath of
allegiance before the justices of the various parishes. Later in the
year, a justice of the peace and a posse of constables pounced upon Dr.
Welton (the Jacobite ex-rector of Whitechapel), and his Non-conformist
congregation, in their place of meeting. There were about 250 Nonjurors
present. The constables interrupted the service, and proceeded to
administer the oath. Many indignantly refused to take it, and these
were arrested on the spot, or were ordered for trial, by a justice, who
allowed them their bail.
[Sidenote: _SHIPPEN, ON GEORGE I._]
In this year occurred the famous incident in the House of Commons――on
occasion of the king asking a grant of money to provide against a
Swedish invasion. Downright Jacobite Shippen felt as others felt, that
the demand was for English money to be applied to the defending of
Hanover. Shippen opposed the reception of the message, on the ground
of want of detailed information. He added that such a proceeding was
unparliamentary, and that it was to be regretted that the king was as
ignorant of parliamentary rules as he was of the English language. A
committee, however, was formed, which, by a majority of 15, proposed
a grant of a quarter of a million; but the question, when submitted
to the House, was carried by four votes only――153 to 149. This almost
compensated the Jacobites for what they had suffered this year by
Bishop Hoadly’s ‘Preservative against the Principles and Practices of
the Nonjurors.’ The High Church priesthood took some little comfort
from it, too. The bishop’s sermon on ‘My kingdom is not of this world,’
had seemed to deny them all temporal power. It led to the famous
Bangorian Controversy which ultimately deprived Convocation, for ever,
of being actively mischievous. The Nonjuring preachers were violent in
their pulpits. And the Nonjurors were out-done in Parliament by that
outspoken member, Shippen.
In December, the king opened Parliament with a speech, which the
‘Downright’ representative treated as that of his ministers. He
discussed it and the measures recommended in it, with the utmost
freedom. ‘We are,’ he said, ‘at liberty to debate every proposition
in it, especially those which seem rather calculated for the meridian
of Germany than of Great Britain. ’Tis the only infelicity of his
Majesty’s reign, that he is unacquainted with our language and
constitution; and ’tis therefore the more incumbent on his British
ministers to inform him that our government does not stand on the
same foundation with his German dominions, which (by reason of their
situation and the nature of their constitution) are obliged to keep
up standing armies in time of peace.’――Lechmere, Solicitor-General,
moved that the words be taken down, and the speaker of them be sent to
the Tower. Shippen would not retract anything he had uttered against
maintaining an army of sixteen thousand men in time of peace. A
majority of 175 to 81 sent him to the Tower.
Shippen’s speech was delivered on December 4th. Two days later, an
attack against the disaffected party was made from the stage. The
assailant was Colley Cibber; his weapon was the comedy, which he
adapted from Molière’s ‘Tartuffe,’ and called ‘The Nonjuror.’ The town
was in a ferment, and it would be difficult to say which faction was
the more excited.
[Sidenote: _CIBBER’S ‘NONJUROR.’_]
A glance at the dedication of ‘The Nonjuror’ to the king will not be
superfluous. It will throw light on more than one illustration of this
Jacobite time. Cibber addresses the king as ‘Dread Sir,’ and calls
himself ‘the lowest of your Subjects.’ He justifies his political
comedy as a proof ‘what honest and laudable uses may be made of the
Theatre, when its performances keep close to the true purpose of its
Institution. It may be necessary,’ he says, ‘to divert the sullen and
disaffected from busying their brains to disturb the happiness of a
government which (for want of proper amusements) they often enter into
wild and seditious schemes to reform.’ Colley then reminds the king
that the stage was never suppressed in England ‘but by those very
people that turned our Church and Constitution into Irreligion and
Anarchy.’ The Jacobites (by the way) might readily accept this remark,
seeing the ‘people’ who overset Church and King, and established
Irreligion and Anarchy, were the ‘Whigs’ of that day who slew the royal
grandfather of that ‘Chevalier whom the Jacobites of the present time
hoped to set up as their lawful king. Cibber professed to have made
these Jacobites ridiculous, in ‘The Nonjuror,’ in order to make them
ashamed of their cause! He affected to deplore that this loyal work had
nobody better than ‘a Comedian’ for its author. In such an undertaking
by such a low personage, his wise Majesty might discern an ‘unlicensed
boldness.’ Yet, the undertaking exposes ‘rebellious and unchristian
tenets.’――Colley takes further comfort in the following Cibberian
style: ‘Nay, I have yet a further hope, that it has even discovered the
strength and number of the _Misguided_ to be much less than may have
been artfully insinuated, there being no Assembly where People are so
free and so apt to speak their minds as in a crowded Theatre; of which,
Your Majesty may have lately seen an instance in the insuppressible
Acclamations that were given on your appearing to honour this Play with
your Royal presence.’
[Sidenote: _DEDICATION TO THE KING._]
That was on the first night. The ‘irrepressible acclamations’ of the
packed audience were still living in their echoes when the curtain rose
for the Prologue. The king smiled when the house laughed aloud at the
threat it contained that the play would treat the Jacobites roughly.
Good breeding ne’er commands us to be civil
To those who wish our Nation at the devil!
The Whig faction thoroughly enjoyed the allusions to the Nonjuring
parson, who rallied his flock in close back-rooms, reigned
the patriarch of blind lanes and alleys, and who fulminated
excommunications from London garrets. When the play began, Mrs.
Oldfield and Booth, by their exquisite acting, almost made both
factions overlook the political allusions.
[Sidenote: _SIGNIFICANT PASSAGES._]
The passages which excited the greatest enthusiasm included the
following: _Colonel Woodville’s_ allusion to the Nonjuring pamphlet,
‘The Case of Schism,’ and his comment, ‘I have seen enough of that
in _The Daily Courant_, to be sorry it is in any hands but those of
the common Hangman.’ Next, _Maria’s_ remark to her brother: ‘Why, you
look as if the Minority had been likely to have carried a Question.’
When the _Colonel_ notices to _Wolf_ that, in prayer, the latter (a
Nonjuring clergyman, nearly a Romanist) never _names_ the Royal family,
the answer stirred much laughter: ‘That’s only to shorten the service,
lest, in so large a family some few, vain, idle souls might think it
tedious; and we ought, as it were, to allure them to what’s good, by
the gentlest, easiest manner we can.’ The laughter was louder still in
the subsequent words, ‘But, why, Sir, is _naming_ them so absolutely
necessary, when Heaven, without it, knows the true intention of our
hearts?’――And the Jacobites themselves may have ventured on murmuring
approbation at _Wolf’s_ words, ‘Power, perhaps, may change its hands,
and you, ere long, as little dare to speak your mind as I do!’ But the
Whigs had their turn when the _Colonel_ exclaimed, ‘Traitor! but that
our Laws have chains and gibbets for such villains, I’d this moment
crackle all thy bones to splinters.’ No doubt the laughter was at its
loudest when the _Colonel_ read the list of _Dr. Wolf’s_ expenses,
on behalf of the Jacobite interest, which list had fallen from the
Nonjuror’s pocket. It ran to this effect:――
[Sidenote: _JACOBITE OUTLAY._]
Laid-out at several times for the secret service of His M.…
May 28. For six baskets of Rue and Thyme 0 18 0
“ 29. Ditto. Two cart-loads 2 0 0
June 10. For two bushels of white roses 1 10 0
“ Ditto. Given to the bell-ringers of
several parishes 10 15 0
“ To Simon Chaunter, Parish Clerk,
for his selecting proper staves
adapted to the day 5 7 6
“ For lemons and arrack sent into
Newgate 9 5 0
(At the last _item_ the _Colonel_ observes: ‘Well, while they drink it
in Newgate, much good may it do them!’)
June 10. Paid to Henry Conscience, Juryman,
for his extraordinary trouble
in acquitting Sir Preston Rebel
of his indictment 53 15 0
“ Allow’d to Patrick Mac Rogue, for
prevailing with his comrade to
desert 4 6 6
“ Given as Smart Money to Humfrey
Staunch, cobler, lately whipt
for speaking his mind of the
government 3 4 6
June 10. Paid to Abel Perkin, newswriter,
for several seasonable paragraphs 5 0 0
Aug. 1. Paid to John Shoplift and Thomas
Highway for endeavouring to
put out the enemy’s bonfire 2 3 0
Aug. 2. Paid the Surgeon for sear cloth
for their bruises 1 1 6
[Sidenote: _ADVANTAGES OF CLAMOUR._]
The above really includes much of what was then going on in the London
of that Jacobite time. According as the dates marked Hanoverian or
Stuart anniversaries, so was the outlay for material of a hostile or
pleasant nature, rue or roses, oaken-boughs or putting out of Whig
bonfires, punch for Jacobite prisoners in Newgate, and money for aid
to various sorts of traitors. In a later passage, _Sir John Woodville_
(a Jacobite) objects, however, to the employment of dissolute and
abandoned fellows for whom the pillory and gallows seem to groan. To
which objection, _Dr. Wolf_ answers with this remarkable introduction
of party politics, on the stage: ‘’Tis true, indeed, and I have often
wish’d ’t were possible to do without them; but in a multitude all men
won’t be Saints, and then again, they are really useful; nay, and in
many things that sober men will not stoop to.… They serve, poor men, to
bark at the Government in the open streets, and keep up the wholesome
spirit of Clamour in the common people;――and, Sir, you cannot conceive
the wonderful use of Clamour; ’tis so teasing to a Ministry; it makes
them wince and fret, and grow uneasy in their posts.… Ah! many a
comfortable point has been gain’d by Clamour; ’tis in the nature of
mankind to yield more to that than to Reason. E’en Socrates himself
could not resist it, for, wise as he was, yet you see his wife Xantippe
carried all her points by Clamour. Come, come, Clamour is a useful
monster, and we must feed the hungry mouths of it, it being of the last
importance to us that hope to change the Government, to let it have no
quiet.’
[Sidenote: _POLITICAL ALLUSIONS._]
One may fancy the glances that went up to the royal box on the
king’s nights, when the above words were emphasised; and the smiles
among the Jacobite ladies, when _Wolf_ paid the following compliment
to their White Rose fidelity: ‘To give them their due, we have no
Spirits among us like the Women; the Ladies have supported our Cause
with a surprising constancy. Oh! there’s no daunting them even with
ill-success! They will starve their very Vanities, their Vices, to
feed their Loyalty! I am informed that my good Lady, Countess of
Night-and-day, has never been seen in a new gown, or has once thrown a
die at any of the Assemblies, since our last general Contribution.’ And
once more the house must have rung with derisive laughter when _Wolf_,
alone on the stage, sneered at Jacobite Sir John, in the popular
phrase, as an idiot for supposing ‘that a Protestant church can never
be secure till it has a Popish Prince to defend it.’
Allusions of kingly clemency to repentant rebels were not wanting in
the play, but the most audacious passage in it was this sketch of
_Wolf_, in which the audience recognised a portrait of Patten. ‘He went
with us, Madam, none so active in the front of Resolution, till Danger
came to face him; then, indeed, a friendly fever seized him, which, on
the first alarm of the king’s forces marching towards Preston, gave him
a cold pretence to leave the town’.…
[Sidenote: _INCENSE FOR THE KING._]
The political passages were skilfully enough worked into the dramatic
story. With them, there was no lack of incense for the king or
prince to savour. The daintiest dish of this sort was to be found
in _Heartly’s_ account of the interview of the pardoned Jacobite,
_Charles_, with his Hanoverian father. ‘The tender father caught him in
his arms, and, dropping his fond head upon his cheek, kissed him and
sigh’d out, _Heaven protect thee!_ Then gave into his hand the _Royal
Pardon_, and, turning back his face to dry his manly eyes, he cried,
“Deserve this Royal Mercy, and I’m still thy _Father_!” The grateful
youth, raising his heart-swoll’n voice, reply’d, _May Heaven preserve
the Royal Life that gave it!_’ Some could sympathise, others would
laugh at this, but how great Augustus looked as he listened, supposing
he understood it, is quite beyond conjecture.
[Sidenote: _A LECTURE FROM THE STAGE._]
The Jacobites took it for satire in disguise, and the Whigs, after
applauding, got their opportunity for a roar when _Sir John_ expressed
his satisfaction at _Heartly_ having been born the year before the
Revolution, as he might, in consequence, be taken for a ‘regular
Christian’; and the roar was not less when this Jacobite, _Sir John_,
was described as a man who, ‘Name to him but _Rome_ or _Popery_, he
startles, as at a Monster, but gild its grossest Doctrines with the
Stile of _Catholick English_, he swallows down the poison, like a
cordial!’ After this fling at the disloyal Ritualists of that day
no more religious or political allusions were made to delight or
exasperate portions of the audience, till _Heartly_ delivered the last
speech, which took the form of a little political lecture, as thus:
‘Give me leave to observe that, of all the arts our enemies make use of
to embroil us, none seem so audaciously preposterous as their insisting
that a Nation’s best security is the Word of a Prince whose Religion
indulges him to give it, and at the same time, obliges him to break
it. And, though perhaps in lesser points our politick disputes won’t
suddenly be ended, methinks there’s one Principle that all Parties
might easily come into, that no change of Government can give us a
blessing equal to our Liberty;’ and then the too eager applause of the
audience was hushed to hear the tag,――
Grant us but this and then of course you’ll own,
To guard that Freedom, GEORGE must fill the Throne.――
On uttering which words, Mr. Wilks, as _Heartly_, bowed to the king.
Amid the peals of applause that followed, Mrs. Oldfield swept down the
stage to speak the epilogue. It was less indecent than such pieces
usually were, and it half apologised for building a play on modern
politics. At the same time it justified the proceeding, and claimed
merit for ‘executing it with good feeling’:――
Even Rebels cannot say,
Though vanquished, they’re insulted in this play!
[Sidenote: PUBLIC FEELING.]
They did, however, both say and feel it. There was not a Tory, whether
play-goer or otherwise, who ever forgave Cibber for this assault on his
principles. Cibber however had no lack of supporters.
‘Last night,’ says Read’s ‘Weekly,’ ‘the comedy called “The Nonjuror”
was acted at His Majesty’s Theatre in Drury Lane, which, very naturally
displaying the villainy of that most wicked and abominable crew, it
gave great satisfaction to all the spectators.’
In the ‘Apology for his Life,’ Cibber gives a just reason for the
scarcity of outspoken opposition to his partisan comedy which had
a first run of eighteen consecutive days. ‘Happy was it for this
_play_ that the very Subject was its Protection. A few Smiles of
silent Contempt were the utmost Disgrace that on the first Day of its
appearance it was thought safe to throw upon it. As the Satire was
chiefly employed upon the Enemies of the Government, they were not
so hardy as to own themselves such by any higher Disapprobation or
Resentment.’ The Jacobites attacked him in other ways. They accused
him of stealing a previous adaptation of Molière’s ‘Tartuffe,’ and the
following advertisement showed the spirit of the accusation: ‘This
day is published a translation of Molière’s “Tartuffe, or the French
Puritan,” by Medbourne, in which may be seen the plot, characters,
incidents, and most part of the language of “The Nonjuror.”’
[Sidenote: _ATTERBURY’S OPINION._]
While this piece was being played, Atterbury, in a letter to Mar,
describes the London Jacobites as ‘sitting silent and quiet, and
pleasing themselves with the odd management here at home, without
raising any expectations from abroad. And in the present situation of
affairs I am glad they do not, for our domestic divisions and folly are
sufficient for the present to keep up men’s spirits without being told
that certain relief is near at hand.… What they see here pleases them
so much that they can wait with a little patience for what they do not
see or hear.’ And so ended the year of the Act of Grace.
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