In the royal closet, at the palace of Hampton Court, stood King
William III. leaning against a gilt railing, placed round some
ornamental objects, near one of the windows. The famous Lord Keeper
Somers stood beside him, while, at a little distance behind appeared
Keppel, Lord Albemarle, and before him, a tall, fine-looking man,
somewhat past the middle age, slight, but dignified in his person,
and with an air of ease and grace in his whole position and
demeanour, which bespoke long familiarity with courts. William gazed
at him with a smile, and heard him speak evidently with pleasure.
"Well, my lord," he said, "I am very glad of the news you give me.
With the assistance of yourself, and my Lord Keeper here, together
with that of our good friend the Duke of Shrewsbury, I doubt not now
my affairs will go well. I am happy to see your health so well
restored, my lord; for you know my friendship for you well enough, to
be aware, that I was seriously afflicted at your illness, for your
own sake, as well as because it deprived me of the counsel and
assistance of one, who, as I thought he would, has proved himself the
only person sufficiently loved by all men, to reconcile the breaches
between some of my best friends."
"Most grateful I am, sir," replied the Earl of Sunbury, to this
unusually long speech, "that Heaven has made me an instrument for
that purpose, and I can never sufficiently express my gratitude, for
your not being angry at my long absence from your majesty's service.
The arrangements thus being made, sire, I will humbly take my leave,
begging your majesty not to forget the interests of my young friend,
according to your gracious promise."
"I will not forget, I will not forget," replied the King. "When do you
publicly announce your return, my lord?"
"I think it would be better not, sire," replied the Earl, "till after
we have notified the arrangements to the three gentlemen who retire."
The King smiled. "That can be done to-morrow, my lord," he said; "and
I cannot but say, that the sooner it is done the better, for my
service has already suffered."
"That disagreeable task will of course fall on my Lord Keeper," said
Lord Sunbury, looking to Somers with a smile.
"I shall do it without ceremony, my lord," replied Lord Somers. "It
will be a mere matter of form; and if we could have found a position
suitable to my Lord Wharton, I should say that we have constructed
the most harmonious administration that I have seen since the
glorious Revolution."
The King's brow grew somewhat dark at the name of Lord Wharton; and
the Earl of Sunbury making a sign to the Lord Keeper to avoid that
topic, took his leave of the King, saying, "I think I have your
majesty's permission to retire through your private apartments."
As he was opening a door, a little to the King's right hand, however,
he was met by the Earl of Portland, who greeted him with a
well-pleased smile, and then passed on towards the King, of whom Lord
Somers was taking leave at the same moment.
"May it please your majesty," said the Earl of Portland, as soon as
the Lords Sunbury and Somers had departed, "the young gentleman whom
you were once pleased to see concerning the Duke of Berwick's coming
to England, is now here, together with another gentleman calling
himself Green, whom your majesty also, I understand--"
"Yes, yes," said the King, "I will see him. I promised to see him."
"You told me also, sire," replied Lord Portland, "if ever this other
gentleman applied, you would also see him. Mr. Wilton Brown, I
mean."
"I will see him too," said the King. "I will see them together. Let
them be called, Bentinck."
Lord Portland went to the door, and gave the necessary orders, and in
a moment or two after, Wilton and his companion stood in the presence
of the King.
As they entered, Lord Albemarle said a few words to William, in a low
tone, to which William replied, "No, no, I will tell you if it be
necessary.--Now, gentlemen," he said, "I understood, from the note
received this morning by my Lord of Albemarle, that you requested an
audience together, which as I had promised to each separately, I have
given. Is your business the same or different?"
"It is the same, sire," replied Green at once. "But I will beg this
young gentleman to urge what he has to say in the first place."
The King nodded his head to Wilton to proceed; adding, "I have little
time this morning, and you may be brief; for if your business be what
I think, it has been opened to me by a friend of yours, and you will
hear more from me or him on Tuesday."
"If your majesty refers to the Duke of Shrewsbury," said Wilton, "I
have not the honour of his acquaintance; but he promised, I know, to
urge upon your majesty's clemency the case of the Duke of Gaveston,
in regard to which I have now ventured to approach you."
"We are mistaking each other," said the King. "I thought you meant
something else. What about the Duke?"
"When your majesty was last pleased to receive me," replied Wilton,
"I had the honour of recounting to you how I had been employed by his
grace to set free his daughter who had been carried away by Sir John
Fenwick and other Jacobites. I explained to your majesty at that time
that this daring act had been committed by those Jacobites in
consequence of a quarrel between the Duke and Sir John Fenwick, which
quarrel was occasioned by the Duke indignantly refusing to take part
in the infamous conspiracy against your majesty. Since then, Sir John
Fenwick has been arrested, and has charged the Duke with being a
party to that conspiracy. He has done this entirely and evidently out
of revenge, and as far as my testimony goes, I can distinctly show
your majesty, that after his daughter was carried away, the Duke had
no opportunity whatsoever of revealing what he knew of the conspiracy
without endangering her safety till after the whole was discovered,
for on the morning of her return to town, after being set free, the
warrants against the conspirators were already issued."
"You told me all this before, I think," said the King, with somewhat
of a heavy brow and impatient air. "Where is the Duke now?"
"He is in the Tower, sire," replied Wilton, "a prisoner of state,
upon this charge of Sir John Fenwick's, and I am bold to approach
your majesty to beseech you to take his case into consideration."
The King's brow had by this time grown very dark, and turning to Lord
Portland, he said, "This is another, you see, Bentinck."
"I beseech your majesty," continued Wilton, as soon as the King
paused, "I beseech you to hear my petition, and to grant it. It is a
case in which I am deeply interested. You were pleased to say that I
had conducted myself well, you were pleased to promise me your
gracious favour, and I beseech you now to extend it to me so far, as
at my petition to show clemency to a nobleman who, perhaps, may have
acted foolishly in suffering his ears to be guilty of hearing some
evil designs against you, but who testified throughout the most
indignant horror at the purposes of these conspirators, who has been
punished severely already by the temporary loss of his child, by the
most terrible anxiety about her, and by long imprisonment in the
Tower, where he now lies, withering under a sense of your majesty's
displeasure. Let me entreat your majesty to grant me this petition,"
and advancing a step, Wilton knelt at the King's feet.
"Why, I thought, young gentleman," replied William, "that before this
time you were married to the pretty heiress."
"Oh no, sire," replied Wilton, with a sad smile, "that is entirely
out of the question. Such a report got abroad in the world, but I
have neither station, fortune, rank, nor any other advantage to
entitle me to such a hope."
"And you, Colonel," said the King, turning towards Green, "is this
the object of your coming also?"
"It is, sire," answered Green, advancing. "But first of all permit me
to do an act that I have never done before, and kissing your
majesty's hand, to acknowledge that I feel you are and will be King
of England. May I add more, that you are worthy of being so."
The King was evidently pleased and struck. "I am glad to see," he
answered, holding out his hand to Green, "that we have reclaimed one
Jacobite."
"Sire," answered Green, kissing the King's hand, but without rising,
"my affections are not easily changed, and may remain with another
house; but it were folly to deny any longer your sovereignty, and,"
he added, the moment after, "it would be treachery henceforth to do
anything against it.--And now, sire," he continued, "let me urge most
earnestly this young gentleman's petition, and let it be at my suit
that the Duke's liberation is granted. Wilton here may have many
petitions yet to present to your majesty on his own account. I shall
never have any; and as your majesty told me to claim a boon at your
hands, and promised to grant me anything that was not unreasonable, I
beseech you to grant me, as not an unreasonable request, the full
pardon and liberation of a man who this young gentleman, and I, and
Sir John Fenwick, and I think your majesty too, well know would as
soon have attempted anything against your majesty's life as he would
have sacrificed his own. This is the boon I crave, this is the
petition I have to present, and I hope and trust that you will grant
my request."
"And have you nothing else, Colonel, to demand on your own account?"
said the King, gravely.
"Nothing, sire," replied Green: "I make this my only request."
"What!" said the King, after giving a glance as playful, perhaps, as
any glance could be upon the countenance of William III. "Is this the
only request? I have seen in English history, since it became my duty
to study it, a number of precedents of general pardons, granted under
the great seal, by monarchs my predecessors, to certain of their
subjects who have done some good service, for all crimes,
misdemeanours, felonies, et cetera, committed in times previous. Now,
sir, from a few things I have heard, it has struck me that such a
patent would be not at all inexpedient in your own case, and I
expected you to ask it."
"I have not, and I do not ask it, sire," replied Green, in the same
grave tone with which he had previously spoken. "I may have done
many things that are wrong, sire, but I have neither injured,
insulted, nor offended any one whom I knew to be a true subject of
the Prince I considered my lawful King. Possessing still his
commission, I believed myself at liberty to levy upon those who were
avowedly his enemies, the rents of that property whereof they had
deprived me fighting in his cause.--Sire, I may have been wrong in my
view, and I believe I have been so. I speak not in my own
justification, therefore. My head is at your feet if you choose to
take it: death has no terrors for me; life has no charms. I stay as
long as God wills it: when he calls me hence, it matters little what
way I take my departure. My request, sire, is for the liberation of
the Duke, who, believe me, is perfectly innocent; and I earnestly
entreat your majesty not to keep him longer within the walls of a
prison, which to the heart of an Englishman is worse than death
itself."
"I am sufficiently an Englishman to feel that," replied the King.--
"Your own free pardon for all offences up to this time we give, or
rather promise you, should it be needed, without your asking it. Mark
the King's words, gentlemen. In regard to the liberation of the
Duke, demanded of us, as you have demanded it; that is, as the only
request of a person who has rendered us most important service, and
to whom we have pledged our word to concede some boon, we would grant
it also, but--"
"Oh, sire!" exclaimed Green, "let your clemency blot out that but."
"Hear me, hear me," said the King, relapsing into his usual tone; "I
would willingly grant you the Duke's liberation as the boon which you
require, and which I promised; but that I granted the order for his
liberation some four days ago, not even demanding bail for his
appearance, but perfectly satisfied of his innocence. I ordered also
such steps to be taken, that a _nolle prosequi_ might be entered, so
as to put his mind fully at rest. I told the Earl of Byerdale the day
before yesterday, that I had done this at the request of the Duke of
Shrewsbury, and I bade him take the warrant, which, signed by myself,
and countersigned by Mr. Secretary Trumbull, was then lying in the
hands of the clerk. It is either in the clerk's hands still, or in
those of Lord Byerdale. But that lord has committed a most grievous
offence in suffering any of my subjects to remain in a prison when
the order was signed for their liberation."
"May it please your majesty," said Keppel, stepping forward, "I
questioned the clerk this morning, as I passed, knowing what your
majesty had done, and hearing, to my surprise, from my Lord Pembroke,
that the Duke was still in prison. The clerk tells me that he had
still the warrant, Lord Byerdale seeming to have forgotten it
entirely."
"He has forgotten too many things," said the King, "and yet his
memory is good when he pleases. Fetch me the warrant, Arnold.
Colonel, I grant this warrant, you see, not to you. You must think of
some other boon at another time. Young gentleman, I have been
requested; by a true friend of yours and mine, to hear your petition
upon various points, and to do something for you. I can hear no more
petitions to-day, however, but perhaps you may find a kinder ear to
listen to you; and as to doing anything for you," he continued, as he
saw Keppel return with a paper in his hand--"as to doing anything
for you, the best thing I can do is to send you to the Tower. There,
take the warrant, and either get into a boat or on your horse', back,
and bear the good tidings to the Duke yourself."
As he spoke, the King gave the paper into Wilton's hand, and turned
partly round to the Earl of Portland with a smile; then looked round
again calmly, and, by a grave inclination of the head, signified to
Wilton and his companion that their audience was at an end.
As soon as they were in the lobby, Green grasped his young friend's
hand eagerly in his own, demanding, "Now, Wilton, are you happy?"
"Most miserable!" replied Wilton. "This paper is indeed the greatest
relief to me, because it puts me beyond all chance of dishonour. No
one can impute to me now that I have done wrong, or violated my word,
even by a breath; but still I am most unhappy, and the very act that
I am going to do seals my unhappiness."
"Such things may well be," replied Green, "I know it from bitter
experience. But how it can be so, Wilton, in your case, I cannot
tell."
Wilton shook his head sorrowfully. "I cannot stay to explain all
now," he said, "for I must hasten to the Duke, and not leave his mind
in doubt and fear for a moment. But in going thither, I go to see her
I love for the last time. The metropolis will henceforth be hateful
to me, and I shall fly from it as speedily as possible. I feel that I
cannot live in it after that hope is at an end. I shall apply for a
commission in the army, and seek what fate may send me in some more
active life; but before I go, probably this very night, if you will
give me shelter, I will seek you and the Lady Helen, to both of whom
I have much, very much to say. I shall find you at Lord Sherbrooke's
cottage, where I last saw you? There I will explain everything. And
now farewell."
Thus saying, he shook Green's hand, mounted his horse, and at a very
rapid pace spurred on towards London by all the shortest roads that
he could discover.