A New Martyrology, Martyrology · Life 5
William Lord Russel.
THE next who fell under their Cruelty, and to whose Death Essex's was but the Prologue, was my Lord Russel, without all Dispute the finest Gentleman one of 'em that ever England bred, and whose pious Life and Virtue was as much Treason against the Court, by affronting 'em with what was so much hated there, as any thing else that was sworn against him. His Family was ancient, tho' not rais'd to the Honours it at present enjoys, till King Edward's time, when John Russel, a Dorsetshire Gentlemen, who had done many Services, and receiv'd many favours from the Crown, both in Henry the Seventh, and Henry the Eighth's time, being by the latter made Lord High Admiral, and at his Death Lord High Steward of England for the Solemnity of the Coronation; obtain'd such a Victory for his young Master against his Rebels, as was rewarded with the Title of The Earl of Bēdford. The Occasion of it thu—Idolatry and Superstition being now rooting out by the Publick Authority, and Images every where pulling down, the Loyal Papists mutined, and one of their Priests stabb'd a Commander of the Kings, who was obeying his Orders, and ten thousand of the deluded Rabble rise in the Defence of that barbarous Action, and their old Mass and Holy-water. Against whom this fortunate Lord was sent with an Army, who routed 'em all, relieved Exeter which they had besieg'd, and took their Gods, Banners, Crucifixes, and all the rest of their Trumpery, wherein the deluded Creatures trusted for Victory. Thus the Family of the Russels were early Enemies to the Romish Superstition, tho' this brave Gentleman only paid the Scores of all his Ancestors. The Son and Heir of this John ▪ was Francis, second Earl of Bedford, who was as faithful to the Crown, as his Father, an Enemy and Terror to the French, and a Friend to the Protestant Religion, as may appear by the Learned Books of Wickliff, which he collected, and at his Death bequeath'd to a great Man, who he knew wou'd make good use of 'em. His eldest Son William Lord Russel, the present Earl of Bedford, is sufficiently known to every true English-man, and his Person and Memory will be honoured by them as long as the World lasts. But 'tis necessary good men should not be immortal— if they were, we should almost lose their Examples, it looking so like Flattery. But to do 'em Justice while they are living, with more safety, and less censure, we may discourse of that Noble Gentleman, his Son and Name-sake William Lord Russel, who made so great a Figure in our Courts and Parliaments, before he was sacrificed to the Cruelty and Revenge of his Popish Enemies. If we'd find his first Offence, which lay behind the Scene, and was indeed the Cause of his Death, though other Colours were necessary to amuse the Publick, we must look some years backward, as he himself does in his last Speech, wherein he tells the World, [He cannot but think his Earnestness in the matter of the Exclusion had no small influence on his present Sufferings.] Being chosen Knight of the Shire for Bedfordshire, where the evenness and sweetness of his Behaviour; and his virtuous Life made him so well-beloved, that he'll never be forgotten. He began sooner than most others to see into that danger we were in from Popery, and all those fatal consequences which have since happened; and described them as plainly as if he had more than the ordinary inspection of a prudent man into Futurities. Thus in his first Speech, on the Discovery of the Popish Plot in 78. He has these words, [I am of Opinion that the Life of our King, the Safety of our Country, and the Protestant Religion, are in great danger from Popery; and that either this Parliament must suppress the power and growth of Popery, or else that Popery will soon destroy not only Parliaments, but all that is near and dear to us.] And lower [I humbly move, that we may resolve to take into our consideration in the first place, how to suppress Popery, and prevent a Popish Successor, without which all our endeavours about this matter will not signifie any thing.] And how much he was in the right as to all these Guesses, which then no doubt were nick-named Groundless and Factious Fears and Jealousies, all the World is now satisfied. Nothing can be more handsom than what he says on this Subject in his last Speech, which gives the reasons of his acting at that time, and being so earnest for the Bill, in which indeed is as fair a State of that great Question as we shall any where find in so little a compass. [I cannot (says he) but give some touch about the Bill of Exclusion, and shew the reasons of my appearing in that business, which in short is this: That I thought the Nation was in such danger of Popery, and that the expectation of a Popish Successor (as I have said in Parliament) put the Kings Life also in such danger, that I saw no way so effectual to secure both, as such a Bill. As to the Limitations which were proposed, if they were sincerely offer'd, and had pass'd into a Law, the Duke then would have been excluded from the Power of a King, and the Government quite alter'd, and little more than the name of a King left: So I could not see either sin or fault in the one, when all People were willing to admit of the other: But thought it better to have a King with his Prerogative, and the Nation easie and safe under him, than a King without it, which must have bred perpetual Jealousies, and continual struggle.] Thus far that Noble Lord, with whom concurred at that time very many great and good Men, as true Lovers of the Regulated Monarchy of England, as of the Protestant Religion; and indeed all were at that time unanimous in the House of Commons, and other places, except some honest Men, who despaired of obtaining his Exclusion: Others who strained their Charity almost as far as Origen, who hoped well even of the Devil, and they came not far short, believing a Papist would be honest or grateful. Some who were indifferent—Their private Obligations to the Duke byassing their Judgments too much on his side. Others fearful that the contrary Tide ran so strong, they could have no safety but under his Protection— and perhaps more than all these others, who fairly bought and sold their Religion and Liberties— the Blood and Souls of themselves and honester men; whom 'tis not doubted but our Chronicles will mark as long as our Nation has any in't that can but write themselves, or read what others have written.
The Reader will pardon this little Digression, and go on with me to remark some strange Expressions in another Speech of his. 'Twas on a Debate in the House for Mony to be given for the Relief of Tangier. [Doth not (says he) the Dukes Interest indanger the Kings Life? and are not our Lives and Fortunes in danger to be snatch'd up by his Power? —and shall we yet make him stronger by putting Mony into his hands?] And a little lower, [When his Majesty shall be pleased to free us from the danger of a Popish Successor, and remove from his Council, and Places of Trust all those who are for his Interest, because there can be no distinction made between the Dukes Interest and the Popish—Then I shall conclude, that what Mony we shall give, will be disposed of according to his Majesties own Royal Pleasure, and for the true Protestant Interest, and I shall be ready to give, even all that I have in the World, if his Majesty shall have occasion for it.] I have been the larger in this, to undeceive the World as to that clamouring against those Parliaments for not giving the King Mony, the true reason of which we may here plainly perceive.
But there is one passage so very remarkable, and I know not how to call it less than Prophetical, in the beginning of this same Speech, that it must by no means be omitted; 'tis as follows. [If ever there should happen in this Nation any such Change, that I should not have Liberty to live a Protestant, I am resolv'd to die one.] And I think he was as good as his Word—For being mark't out, and among others, appointed for the Slaughter, he was taken up and imprisoned for that end and purpose in the Tower, and brought to his Tryal above all days in the year, on Essex's day, the 13th of July, 1683. He was brought to the Old Baily, arraigned, and the same morning tryed for High Treason. He earnestly desired he might have respite, and might not be tryed that day, since he had some Witnesses that could not be in Town till the Night; nay, they were in such post-hast, and so hot a scent for his Blood, that on his earnest desire, they would not stay so much as till the Afternoon, pretending 'twas against President, and they could not do it without the Attorney General's Consent; tho 'tis notorious, that both Plunket, the titular Irish Primate, and Fitz-Harris before spoken of, were both of them try'd a whole Term after they were arraign'd; tho in both Cases the Attorney oppos…d it; and even here in the case of Treason, at the Old-Baily too, Whitebread's Tryal was put off to another Sessions. If 'tis pleaded, The Case is different, and that there was reason for the one, but not for the other: 'Twill be readily granted, —Tho my Lords Evidence were not ready, theirs was— They had concerted business better, and just at that time News was brought hot into the House, That my Lord of Essex had this Morning prevented Justice, as has been before remarked in the Story of Essex; as also, That several of the Jury had said, They had never found Russel Guilty, had it not been for that Accident. And indeed, were that all in the Case, there would be still room for a great deal of Charity: For though that was no proper Evidence against the Prisoner, yet very few Persons in the World, perhaps, could have been found, whose Minds would have been so firm, and Reason so clear, as not to be, whether they wou'd or no, hing'd and byass'd by such a sudden report as this brought in among 'em, when they had no time to consider calmly of the matter; and this, no doubt, was very well known by those who order'd things in the manner before-noted. But I say, 'twere to be wished, for the Honour of the English Nation, that this had been all the foul play in the case, and that there had not been so many Thousand Guinea's imployed in this and other Tryals, as the great Agitators thereof have lately confess'd to have been. The Names of his Jury, as I find them in Print, are as follow:
John Martayn
William Rouse
Jervas Seaton
William Fashion
Thomas Short
George Toriano
William Butler
James Pickering
Thomas Jeve
Hugh Noden
Robert Brough
Thomas Omeby.
When he found he must expect neither Favour nor Justice, as to the delaying of his Tryal, he excepted against the Fore-man of the Jury, because not a Freeholder; which for divers and sundry Reasons, almost, if not all the Judges, having the happiness to light on different ones, and scarce any two on the s…me, was over-ruled; and given against him; though that same practice since declared and acknowledged one of the great Grievances of the Nation. His Indictment ran in these words, [He did conspire and compass our Lord the King, his Supreme Lord, not onelyonly of his Kingly State, Title, Power, and Government of this his Kingdom of England to deprive and throw down; but also our said Soveraign Lord the King to kill, and to Death to bring and put, and the ancient Government of this Kingdom of England to change, alter, and wholly subvert, and a miserable Slaughter among the Subjects of our said Lord the King, through his whole Kingdom of England to cause and procure, and Insurrection and Rebellion against our said Lord the King, to move, procure, and stir up within this Kingdom of England.] And lower, [He and divers others did consult, agree, and conclude Insurrection and Rebellion against our Sovereign Lord the King, to move and stir up, and the Guards for the preservation of the Person of our said Soveraign Lord the King, to seize and destroy.]
Now that all this was not intended as matter of Form only, we may see by the Kings Councils opening the Evidence. The first says —[He was indicted for no less than conspiring the Death of the Kings Majesty; and that in order to the same, he and others did meet and conspire together, to bring our Sovereign Lord the King to Death, to raise War and Rebellion against him, and to Massacre his Subjects—And in order to compass these wicked Designs, being assembled, did conspire to seize the Kings Guards, and his Majesties Person: And this (he tells the Jury) is the charge against him.
The Attorney General melts it a little lower, and tells 'em the meaning of all these Tragical Words, were A Consult about a Rising—about seizing the Guards, and receiving Messages from E. of Shaftsbury concerning an Insurrection.
Nor yet does the proof against him come up so high even as this, though all care was used for that purpose, and kind Questions put very frequently, to lead and drive the Evidence; but one of them Witnessing to any one Point.
The first of whom was Col. Rumsey, who swears, That he was sent with a Message from Shaftsbury, who lay concealed at Wapping, to meet Lord Russel, Ferguson, &c. at Shepherds's, to know of them what Resolution they were come to about the Rising design'd at Taunton— That when he came thither, the Answer was made, Mr. Trenchard had fail'd 'em, and no more would be done in that business at that time. That Mr. Ferguson spoke the most part of that Answer; but my Lord Russel was present, and that he did speak about the Rising of Taunton, and consented to it. That the Company was discoursing also of viewing the Guards, in order to surprize 'em, if the Rising had gone on; and that some undertook to view 'em; and that the Lord Russel was by when this was undertaken.] But this being the main Hinge of the business and this Witness not yet coming up to the purpose, they thought it convenient to give him a Jog, to Refresh his Memory, Asking him. [Whether he found my Lord Russel averse, or agreeing to it.] Who, no doubt, answer'd, Agreeing. But being afterwards in the Tryal ask'd, Whether he could Swear positively that my Lord Russel heard the Message, and gave any Answer to it? All that he says is this, [That when he came in, they were at the Fire side, but they all came from the Fire-side, to hear what he said.]
All that Shepherd witnesses is, That my Lord Russel, &c. being at his house, there was a Discourse of surprizing the Kings Guards; and Sir Thomas Armstrong having viewed them when he came thither another time, said, They were remiss, and the thing was feizible, if there were Strength to do it, and that (upon his being question'd too, as Rumsey before him) Whether my Lord Russel was there? He says, He was, at that time they discours'd of seizing the Guards.
The next Witness was the florid Lord Howard, who very artificially begins low, being, forsooth, so terribly surprized with my Lord of Essex's Death, that his Voice fail'd him, till the Lord Chief Justice told him, the Jury could not hear him; in which very moment his Voice returned again, and he told the reason why he spoke no louder. After a long Harangue of Tropes and fine Words, and dismal General Stories, by which, as my Lord complains, the Jury were prepossessed against him, he at last makes his Evidence bear directly upon the point for which he came thither— And swears, [That after my Lord Shaftsbury went away] their Party resolved still to carry on the design of the Insurrection without him; for the better management whereof they erected a little Cabal among themselves, which did consist of Six Persons, whereof my Lord Russel and himself were two: That they met for this purpose at Mr. Hambden's house, and there adjusted the place and manner of the intended Insurrection: That about ten days after they had another meeting on the same business at my Lord Russel's, where they resolved to send some Persons to engage Argyle and the Scots in the design—and (being ask'd too) that he was sure my Lord Russel was there.] Being ask'd whether he said any thing, he answer'd, [That every one knew him to be a Person of great Judgment, and not very lavish of Discourse.] Being again goaded on by Jeffreys with a— But did he consent? [We did (says he) put it to the Vote, it went without contradiction, and I took it that all there gave their consent.]
West swears, That Ferguson and Col. Rumsey told him, That my Lord Russel intended to go down and take his Post in the West, when Mr. Trenchard had fail'd 'em. Whose hear-say-Evidence being not encouraged, Jeffreys ends very prettily, telling the Court, they would not use any thing of Garniture, but leave it as it was.
As for Rumsey the first Witness: As to his Person—My Lord Candish prov'd on the Trial, that my Lord Russel had a very ill opinion of him, and therefore 'twas not likely he would entrust him with such a Secret.
As to his Evidence, squeez'd out of him as it was, in both branches of the Design, seizing the Guards, and the Rising of Taunton, he says in gross and general, That he was agreeing to one, and spoke about and consented to the other. For his agreeing to the seizing the Guards, he might think as the Lord Howard does after, that Silence gives consent; for it appears not, nor does he swear, that my Lord spoke one word about it. But he himself, in his last Speech, which was not a Jesuit's, & which we have all the reason in the world to believe exactly true, since, as he himself says in it, [He always detested Lying, tho' never so much for his advantage; and hoped none would be so unjust, or uncharitable to think he'd venture on it in thee his last words, for which he was so soon going to give an account to the great God, the Searcher of Hearts, and Judge of all things.] In this last Speech he protests, that this time of which Rumsey swears, there was no undertaking of securing and seizing the Guards, nor none appointed to view or examine them, only some discourse there was of the feazibleness of it: He had heard it mentioned as a thing might easily be done, but never consented to as a thing fit to be done. Now I'd ask any man of Sense and Honour, who did but know my Lord Russel, let 'em be never so much his Enemy (if there were any such) which of these two they really judge most worthy to be believed? There is but one against one. Rumsey, who either swore upon liking, for saving his Life, or was a Trapan, [That he was consenting to the seizing the Guards] or my Lord Russel on his Death and Salvation solemnly affirming, [That he was so far from consenting to any such thing, that there was not so much as any such Undertaking mention'd in the Company while he was with 'em.] Especially when 'tis observable, that Rumsey never instances in the terms in which he gave his Consent. The same is to be said of the other Branch of his Evidence as to the Message of the Insurrection, which he says he brought into the Room, found the Lord Russel and the rest by the Fire; whence they all came to him, and heard his Message, and the Lord Russel discoursed of the subject on't, and consented to't. To all which let's again oppose not only what he answer'd in his Trial, wherein he says, That he would swear he never heard, or knew of that Message which Rumsey says he brought to them; but also what he says in confirmation thereof in his Speech, [I shall aver, that what I said of my not hearing Col. Rumsey deliver any Message from my Lord Shaftsbury, was true.]
And a little before, [When I came into the Room I saw Mr. Rumsey by the Chimney, tho' he swears he came in after.]
One thing more is observable, That when West came to give in his Garniture-Evidence, he runs in a Length further than Rumsey, and remembers Rumsey had told him, what it seems he himself had forgot, That on Mr. Trenchards failing 'em, my Lord Russel was to go in his place, and take up Posts along in the West. And indeed had not West miss'd his Cue, and by imitating my Lord Howard's Example, begun first with Hear-say, he had made as stabbing an Evidence as e're a one of the other— Or had they but let him run to the end of his third, and take things methodically, as his Lordship did before him.
For Shepherd, all must grant he says not a Syllable to the purpose, or any thing which affects my Lord. He can hardly tell whether he was there when there was the discourse of seizing the Guards, but speaks not a word of my Lord's hearing, or in the least-wise consenting thereunto.
As for my Lord Howard's Evidence, we may, without Scandalum Magnatum, affirm that every Lord is not fit to make a Privy-Co…nsellor; no, nor every witty Lord neither, especially in a Business of such a Concern. He does very well to say, the Council of six all chose themselves; for had not he given his own Vote for himself, hardly any body else wou'd have done it, since his Character is so notoriously different from that which he himself gives of my Lord Russel, [whom, he says, every one knew him to be a Person of great Judgment, and not very lavish of Discourse.] For his Evidence, he too is so happy to have a better Memory than Rumsey, as well as West had; and says, That the Duke of Monmouth told him, Rumsey had convey'd my Lord Russel to Shaftsbury, on whose perswasion the Insurrection was put off about a Fornight longer. Of this Rumsey himself says not a Syllable.
He says further, That when they had enquir'd how Matters stood in the Countrey, and the Duke of Monmouth had found Trenchard and the West-Country fail'd them, on this 'twas put off again— and this about the 17th or 18th of October. Now this same Action Rumsey speaks of, but takes a larger Scope as to the Time, the end of October, or beginning of November, far enough from the 17th or 18th of the Month before. Rumsey says, On this Disappointment of the Taunton men and Trenchard, Shaftsbury resolv'd to be gone. Lord Howard,— That he was so far from it, that he and his Party resolv'd to do it without the Lords, and had set one time and t'other, and at last the 17th of Novemb. which also not taking effect, then Shaftsbury went off. As to his Evidence, which was closer—the Story of the Council of Six, besides the former Improbability, that he among all the men in England shou'd be chosen one of 'em; 'tis remarkable, that in their former greater Consults at Shepherds, which he and Rumsey mention, the Lord Howard was never present, nor so much as touches on't in his Evidence; tho' here, if any where, the grand Affair of seizing the Guards, and the Answer to Shaftsbury about Taunton was concerted. All that appears of truth in the Matter, seems to be what my Lord Russel acknowledges,—That those Persons named met very often —that there was no form'd Design, but onelyonly loose talk about those Conce…ns. That there was no Debate of any such thing as was sworn, nor putting any thing in a Method: but my Lord Howard being a Man of a Voluble Tongue, and one who talkt very well, they were all delighted to hear him.
Nor indeed does my Lord Howard positively Swear, even supposing this form'd Consult to be true, that my Lord Russel actually consented to it, or discoursed of it. Only—That he was there— and—that he took it, and that he did give his consent.
'Tis a very ill Cause that needs either a Lye or a Cheat to defend it. My Lord Russel himself being so ingenuous to acknowledge whatever of Truth, any that knew him will believe to be in his part of the Design, 'twould be an Injury to his Memory to do any otherwise. It appears then from his own acknowledgment, that Howard, Armstrong, and such others, had sometimes discoursed of ill Designs and Matters in his Company: And, as he says in his Speech, [What the Heats, Wickedness, Passions, and Vanities of other Men had occasion'd, he ought not to be answerable for, nor cou'd be repress 'em.] Nay more, he did sufficiently disapprove those things which he heard discours'd of with more Heat than Judgment. But for himself, declares solemnly again and again. That he was never in any design against the King's Life, or any Man's whatsoever, nor ever in any Contrivance of altering the Government. If so, what then becomes of all the Story of the Council of Six? and is't not to be thrown among the same Lumber with the old famous Nagshead Tavern Business? 'Twill be still said he was an Ill Man, in being Guilty by this very Confession, of Misprision of Treason.—Supposing this true— That was not Death, and he dy'd, as he says, Innocent of the Crime he stood condemned for. And besides, every Lord has not Brow hard enough, nor Tongue long enough, nor Soul little enough to make an Informer against others to save his own Life? [I hope, says he, no Body will imagin that so mean a thought could enter into me, as to go about to save my Life by accusing others. The part that some have acted lately of that kind, has not been such as to invite me to love Life at such a rate.
But all this does not depend on his naked word, since the Evidence who swore against him, being such as were neither credible, nor indeed so much as legal Witnesses, the Accusation of it self must fall to the ground. If legal, they were not credible, because, as my Lord Delamere observes in this Case, they had no Pardons, but hunted as the Cormorant does, with strings about their Necks, which West, in his Answer to Walcot's Letter, ingenuously acknowledges; and says, ['Tis through God's and the King's Mercy he was not at the apparent point of Death.] That is, in a fair construction, was not just turning over, but was upon trial, to see whether he'd do Business, and deserve to scape hanging. Much such an honourable way of getting Pardon, as the Fellow who sav'd his own neck by turning Hangman, and doing the good Office to his own Father.
Nor indeed was the great Witness, the honourable Lord, who cast this Noble Person, so much as a legal, any more than a credible Witness. No Man alive has any way to clear himself from the most perjur'd Villains Malice, if he swears against him Point-blank, but either by Circumstance of Time, or invalidating his very Evidence. Let any think of another way if they can. The first of these was precluded. 'Twas that which had before been made use of to sham off a truer Plot, and much more valid Evidence. But here Rumsey and the rest came to no determinate Time, but only about such a time; about the end of October, or beginning of November: and others cloud the precise time in so many words, that 'tis impossible to find it. All then that could be done, was as to the Person. Now what thing can be invented, which can more invalidate the Evidence any person gives, than his solemn, repeated, voluntary Oath, indubitably prov'd against him, that such a Person is innocent of that very Crime of which he afterwards accuses him? If this be the Case or no here, let any one read the following Depositions▪ and make an indifferent Judgment. My Lord Anglesey witnesses, He was at the Earl of Bedford's, after his Son was imprisoned, where came in my Lord Howard, and began to comfort him, saying, He was happy in so wise a Son, and worthy a person; and who could never be in such a Plot as that. That he knew nothing against him, or any body else, of such a barbarous Design. But this was not upon Oath, and onelyonly related to the Assassination, as he says for himself in his paring-distinction. Look then a little lower to Dr. Burnet, whom the Lord Howard was with the night after the Plot broke out, and then, as well as once before, with Hands and Eyes lifted up to Heaven, did say, He knew nothing of ANY Plot, nor believ'd ANY. Here's the most solemn Oath, as he himself confesses voluntarily, nay unnecessarily, tho' perhaps in my Lord Bedford's Case, Good-nature might work upon him. Here's the paring of his Apple broke all to pieces. No shadow, no room left for his Distinction between the Insurrection and Assassination, but without any guard or mitigation at all, he solemnly swears, he knew not of ANY Plot, nor believed ANY.
But 'twas no great matter, for the Jury were resolv'd to know and believe it, whether he did or no.
There's but one little Subterfuge more, and the Case is clear. All this Perjury, all these solemn Asseverations he tells us were only to brazen out the Plot, and to out-face the Thing for himself and Party. This he fairly acknowledges; and let all the World be the Jury, whether they'd destroy one of the bravest Men in it, on the Evidence of such a Person? But there's yet a farther Answer. His Cousin, Mr. Howard, who was my Lord's intimate Friend, who secur'd him in his House, to whom he might open his Soul, and to whom it seems he did, he having made Application to Ministers of State in his Name, that he was willing to serve the King, and give him Satisfaction;— To him, I say, with whom he had secret Negotiations, and that of such a Nature—will any believe that he wou'd out-face the Thing here too? That he wou'd Perjure himself for nothing, where no danger, no good came on't? No certainly, his Lordship had more Wit, and Conscience, and Honour; he ought to be vindicated from such an Imputation, even for the credit of his main Evidence; for my Lord Gray, he tells us, was left out of their Councils for his Immoralities; and had he himself been such a sort of a Man, those piercing Heads in the Council wou'd have certainly found him out before, and never admitted him among them. As for the very Thing, Mr. Howard tells it as generously, and with as much honest Indignation as possible, in spite of the Checks the Court gave him. [He took it, says he, upon his Honour, his Faith, and as much as if he had taken an Oath before a Magi…rate, that he knew nothing of any Man concern'd in this Business— and particularly of the Lord Russel; of whom, he added, that he thought he did unjustly suffer.] So that if he had the same Soul on Monday, that he had on Sunday (the very day before) this cou'd not be true that he Swore against the Lord Russel. My Lord Russel's suffering, was Imprisonment, and that for the same matter on which he was try'd, the Insurrection, not the Assassination. If my Lord Howard knew him Guilty of that for which he was committed, tho' not the other, How cou'd he then say, 'Twas unjustly done?
After all this, 'twoud be almost superfluous to go any further, or insert the Evidence given by Dr. Tillotson, Burnet, Cox, and others, not onelyonly of his vertuous and honourable Behaviour, but especially of his Judgment about any Stirs, or Popular Insurrections, —That he was absolutely against 'em,—that 'twas folly and madness till things came to be regulated in a Parliamentary way, and that he thought 'twould ruin the best Cause in the World to take any such ways to preserve it.
All this and more wou'd not do, Dye he must, the Duke order'd it, the Witnesses swore it, the Judges directed it, the Jury found it; and when the Sentence came to be pass'd, the Judge ask'd, as is usual, What he had to say why it should not be pronounc'd? He answer'd, That whereas he had been charg'd in the Indictment which was then read to him, with Conspiring the Death of the King, which he had not taken notice of before, he appeal'd to the Judge and Court whether he were Guilty within the Statute on which he was try'd, the Witnesses having sworn an Intention of levying War, but not of Killing the King, of which there was no proof by any one Witness. The Recorder told him, That was an Exception proper, and as he thought, his Lordship did make it before the Verdict. Whether the Evidence did amount to prove the Charge, was to be observ'd by the Jury; for if the Evidence c…me short of the Indictment they cou'd not find it to be a true Charge; but when once they had found it, their Verdict did pass for Truth, and the Court was bound by it as well as his Lordship, and they were to go according to what the Jury had found, not their Evidence. Now I'd fain know, what's the reason of the Prisoners being ask'd that Question, What he has to say for himself? Is't only Formality, or Banter? He makes an Exception, which the Judge himself confesses proper. But who was Counsel for the Prisoner, Is not the Bench? or, does it not pretend to be so? and why was not this observ'd by them in their Direction to the Jury? The Recorder seems to grant it fairly, that the Evidence did not prove the Charge, and says, the Court was to go, Not according to the Evidence. Well, Evidence, or none, the Truth is, was not the Question; for being found …uilty, Sentence past upon him—whence he was removed to Newgate. While he was there, the Importunity of his Friends, as he says handsomely in his Speech, lest they shou'd think him sullen or stubborn, prevail'd with him to sign Petitions, and make an Address for his Life, tho' 'twas not without difficulty that he did any thing that was begging to save it. But with how much Success, it may easily be guess'd by any who knew the Duke's temper; nor is it forgotten how barbarously his Lady and Children were repuls'd, and the King's good Nature not suffer'd to save one of the best men in his Kingdom. Dr. Burnet and Dr. Tillotson were with him much of the time between his Sentence and Death; where to the last, he own'd that Doctrine, which other good men who were then of another Judgment, have since been forc'd into, namely, the lawfulness of Resistance against unlawful Violence, from whomsoever it be.
After the fruitless Applications for his Pardon; after a Farewel and last Adieu in this World, to one of the best of Women, who stood by him, and assisted him in his Trial, and left him not till now, he at last on Saturday the 21st of Octob. went into his own Coach about Nine a Clock, with Dr. Tillotson and Dr. Burnet; whence he was carried to Great Lincolns-Inn-Field to the Scaffold prepar'd for him, where, among all the numerous Spectators, he was one of the most unconcern'd Persons there; and very few rejoyc'd at so doleful a Spectacle but the Papists, who indeed had sufficient reason; my Lord Powis's People expressing, as 'tis said, a great deal of Pleasure and Sati…faction. There, after he had again solemnly protested his Innocency, and that he was far from any Design against the King's Person, or of altering the Government: Nay, That he did upon the words of a dying man, profess, that he knew of no Plot against the Kings Life, or Government; And delivering one of the finest Speeches in the World to the Sheriff, he prayed by himself, and with Dr. Tillotson's assistance; and embracing him and Dr. Burnet, he submitted to the fatal strokes, for the Executioner took no less than three before he could fever his Head, which when 'twas held up, as usual, there was to far from being any shout, that a considerable Groan was heard round the Scaffold. His Body was given to his Friends, and convey'd to Cheneys in Buckinghamshire, where 'twas buried among his Ancestors. There was a great Storm, and many loud Claps of Thunder the day of his Martyrdom. An Elegy was made on him immediately after his Death, which seems by what we have of it, to be writ with some Spirit, and a great deal of Truth and Good-will; only this Fragment on't could be retriev'd, which yet may not be unwelcome to the Reader.
'Tis done—he's crown'd, and one bright Martyr more,
Black Rome, is charg'd on thy too bulky score.
All like himself he mov'd, so calm, so free,
A general Whisper question'd—Which is He?
Deckt like a Lover, tho' pale Death's his Bride,
He came, and saw, and overcame, and dy'd.
Earth wept, and all the vainly pitying Croud:
But Heaven his Death in Thunder groan'd aloud.
The rest are lost—But he has better Justice done him by this honourable Parliament; and if the World should possibly be so malicious and silly, in after Ages, as some are in this, and ask, What have they done since their Meeting? Had we not a Nation sav'd, Peace preserv'd, and many other almost Miracles to answer 'em; yet this one thing wou'd be sufficient, That in this Sessions, they had Reversed the Judgment against this vertuous, pious, and honourable Lord.
For his Character, if we'll believe the best men, and those who knew him best, 'tis one of the most advantagious the Age, or indeed, our Nation has yielded. Those are great words which Mr. Leviston Gower speaks of him on his Trial, but yet not a Syllable too big for his Merit, tho' they are very expressive of it.—That he was one of the best Sons, the best Fathers, the best Husbands, the best Masters, the best Friends, and the best Christians. By others, That he was a most vertuous, prudent, and pious Gentleman.—A man of that vertue, that none who knew him could think him guilty of such a Conspiracy.—A man of great Honour, and too prudent to be concern'd in so vile and desperate a design.—A Person of great Vertue and Integrity.—One, whom those he had long convers'd with, never heard utter so much as a word of Indecency against the King.] And others of the highest Quality, who had been often in his Company, say, That they had never heard any thing from him, but what was honourable, just and loyal.
His Person was tall and proper; his Temper even and agreeable, and such as rendred his vertues even more lovely than they did him. His Piety and Devotion, as unaffected, and yet as remarkable as his Love to the Church of England. The true Church of England, as he himself calls it, not those Tumours and Wens that grow upon it, and pretended to be not only part but all of it in our late bad times; to whose Heighths and Extravagances he thinks it no shame in his Speech to confess he could never rise. He was of a noble Courage, which he did not express by Quarrels or Duelling, but serving his Country at Sea in the most dangerous Wars, and at Land in the Parliament, in more dangerous Councils and Debates. He was there a true Englishman—still the same; you knew where he would be, for he never mov'd. A strenuous Asserter and Defender of his Country's Religion and Rights against all Opposers, and that in a Lawful and Parliamentary Method. He spoke little there, but always very home, and much to the purpose—And that was as true a Character of him formerly recited, as if it had come from a better man, That every one knew the Lord Russel to be a person of great Judgment, and not very lavish of Discourse. Lastly, which will give no small heightening to his Character, He had Mr. Johnson to his Chaplain.
An Abstract of the Late Noble Lord Russel's Speech to the Sheriffs; as also of a Paper delivered by him to them at the place of his much lamented Execution on July 21. 1683.
IN his Speech to the Sheriffs, he tells them, that for fear of not being well heard, he had couched what he had to say upon that sad occasion in the Paper he delivered them; only he protests his Innocence of any Designs against the King's Person, or the then Government, and prays for the preservation of both, and of the Protestant Religion; and in short, declares that he forgives all the World, and wishes that all True Protestants may Love one another, and not make way for Popery, by their Animosities.
In the Paper, He first declares himself Compos'd for Death, and weaned from this World: Then he affectionately thanks God, as in general, so in particular, for his advantagious Birth, and Religious Education, of which in that important occasion, he found such happy and powerful Effects as kept him up against the fear of Death, and all other Discomposures, and armed him with such assurances in God's Love and Mercy, as made the most joyful of the visibly saddest Moments of his Life.
He professes to die as he had lived, a sincere Protestant of the Church of England, tho' he never could come up to the heighths of some; wishes more Moderation both in Church-men and Dissenters, and that the Common Danger of Popery might move them to lay aside their Differences, and all Persecuting Inclinations, as more unseasonable than at any other time.
He declares, he had a notion of Popery, as of an Idolatrous and Bloody Religion, and thought himself bound to act in his station against it, notwithstanding the Power of the Enemies he was sure to meet with on that account, &c. But yet he professes he never thought of doing any thing against it basely or inhumanely, against the Maxims of Christian Religion, or the Laws and Liberties of this Kingdom, for his sincerity, in which, he appeals to God, renouncing all Passion, By-End, or Ill Design, as also all Designs of changing the Government, which was in his Opinion, the best in the World, and for which, as well as his Country, which he valued above his Life, he was ever ready to venture it: Disclaims all thoughts against the King's Life, denying even the Lord Howard to have said any thing tending to prove it.
Prays Sincerely for the King and Nation, and wishes they may be mutually happy in one another; that the King may be truly a Defender of the Faith; that the Protestant Religion and Kingdom may flourish under Him, and He be happy in both Worlds.
As to his share in the prosecution of the Popish Plot, he declares he acted sincerely in it, as really believing, as he still did, the truth of such a Conspiracy, and disclaims his knowledge of any practices with the Witnesses which he protests against as abominable, and disowns Falshood or Cruelty ever to have been in his Nature.
He persists in his Opinion, that Popery was breaking in upon the Nation, and grieves to see Protestants instrumental to it; declares his fears of the sufferings the Protestant Religion was like to undergo, and bewails the publick and shameless Impiety that abounded, and modestly admonishes all persons, and particularly his Friends, well-wishers to the Protestant Cause, that were defective, to live up to its Principles. Then he declares his Submission to God's pleasure, freely forgives his Enemies, and desires his Friends to seek no Revenge for his Blood.
After which, he looks back, and gives some little touches concerning his past behaviour, and the manner of his Treatment at his Trial.
He confesses, he moved much for the Bill of Exclusion as the only effectual Remedy to secure both the King's Life, the Protestant Religion, and the Frame of the Government, He thinking none of them could be safe so long as there was any hopes of a Popish Successor; and that the Limitations proposed to Bind the Duke were effectual Remedies against those fears, because the Nation could never be easie and safe under a King without a Prerogative: But yet imputes his present Sufferings to the Revengeful Resentments some Persons retained for his Earnestness in that matter.
Next as to his conspiring to seize the Guards, he disowns that ever he was concerned in any such Design or ever heard talk of any such thing as designed, but only once, as of a thing feazible, against which likewise he warmly declared himself, and said, the consequence of it was so like to end in Massacring the Guards in cold Blood, that he could not but abhor the thoughts of it, as approaching too near the Popish Practice, at which the Duke of Monmouth taking him by the hand, cried out affectionately, that he saw, they were both of a temper; he adds on that occasion, that he always observed in that Duke, an abhorrence to all base things.
He proceeds to shew how he went to the Meeting at Mr. Shepherd's, at the Duke of Monmouth's earnest request, chiefly to endeavour to prevent any such disorderly proceedings as the Duke feared would be otherwise put on by some hot men, whose rash courses he did accordingly most vigorously oppose, and yet was condemned only for not discovering them, though he endeavoured to reform them, because he would not stoop to so mean a thought, as that of going about to save his Life by accusing others for Crimes that they only talkt of, and that, as we may partly gather from his discourse, he had effectually disswaded them from too, so that his Intention was good, and his part in that Transaction, even in the strictest sense of Law, but a Misprision of Treason, and therefore he declares he cannot but think the Sentence of Death past against him to be very hard, and he by a strange fetch, brought within the compass of the Statute of Treason, of Edward the Third.
He moreover adds, that he had so convincing a sense of his own Innocence in that Case, that he would not betray it by flight, tho' much pressed to it. He next excuses his saying so little at his Trial, saying, he hoped it lookt more like Innocence than Guilt: Adding, that he was advised not to confess Matter of Fact too plainly, because it would certainly have brought him within the guilt of Misprision, and so he thought it better to say little, than by departing from the Ingenuity he had always practised, by using little Tricks and Evasions, to make the last and solemnest part of his Life so notably different from the preceding course of it, as such a Conduct would have made it. He farther subjoyns, that he never pretended great Readiness in Speaking, and advises those Gentlemen of the Law that have it, to use it more conscientiously, and not to run men down, and impose on Easie and Willing Juries by Strains and Fetches, &c. the Killing unjustly by Law, being the worst of Murthers. He then, as in several other places, repeating his wishes, that the Rage and Revenge of some men, and the partiality of Juries, may be stopped with his Blood, and so, after a small hint, how by the importunity of his Dearest and most Virtuous Lady, and some other Dear Friends, he had been prevail'd upon against his Inclinations, to Address, tho' ineffectually for his Life, he concludes with a fresh Protestation of his Innocency, and a Devout Prayer to God, suitable to that sad occasion.