II.—THE EARL OF DERWENTWATER IS IMPRISONED IN THE DEVEREUX TOWER.
The rebel lords were confined in different prison lodgings in the Tower, but were not treated with any sort of rigour, being allowed by the Lieutenant to visit each other when accompanied by a guard.
The Earl of Derwentwater had a large chamber on the upper story of the Devereux Tower, with a cell connected with it, wherein he slept, and he passed his time wholly in reading and devotional exercises.
Thus his mind, greatly troubled at first, became gradually tranquillised.
The earl had been imprisoned for nearly a fortnight when the countess, to whom he had written, praying her to come to him, arrived in London.
She was accompanied by Dorothy Forster, who hoped to be useful to her brother, and was likewise attended by Father Norham and Newbiggin.
Without difficulty Lady Derwentwater obtained an order to visit her consort in the Tower, and was furthermore permitted to bring Father Norham with her.
It was a very sad meeting, but the frame of mind attained by the earl enabled him to support it, and to offer the count his consolation.
Though scarcely indulging a hope, Lord Derwentwater was not unwilling that every effort should be made to obtain a pardon for him, for he could not deny, when gazing at the countess, that life was dear to him.
Father Norham, however, who feared the worst, urged him to wean his heart as much as possible from earth, and fix it upon heaven.
This the earl earnestly strove to do, and he was greatly assisted by the good priest. His life had always been devout, and now he felt the inexpressible comfort derived from religious observances.
Meanwhile, the countess was using all her efforts to procure her husband a pardon, but she was deterred from applying in the highest quarter, being informed that the king was greatly incensed against the rebel lords, and would not listen to her.
Immediately after the meeting of Parliament, General Forster was expelled from the House of Commons, and the English and Scottish noblemen concerned in the rebellion were impeached of high treason.
All pleaded guilty, except the Earl of Wintoun, who petitioned for a delay. They were next conveyed by water from the Tower to Westminister Hall, and being brought into the court, presided over by Lord Chancellor Cowper, as Lord High Steward, received sentence of death.
On this occasion the noble prisoners conducted themselves with great firmness and dignity. Nor did the crowd insult them as they were taken back to the barge.
Many spectators indeed regarded them with sympathy, but did not dare to make any demonstration in their favour.
The countess of Derwentwater no longer hesitated. Accompanied by the Duchesses of Cleveland and Bolton, and several other ladies of the highest rank, she was introduced by the Dukes of Richmond and St. Albans into the king's bedchamber, and flinging herself at his majesty's feet, addressed him in French, imploring his clemency for her husband.
The king raised her immediately, and said in an inflexible voice:
“What has the Earl of Derwentwater done to merit clemency on my part? He has been guilty of a most heinous treason. He has set up a Popish Pretender. He has raised my subjects in rebellion—has made war against me—and now that he is vanquished, he sues humbly for mercy. I cannot—will not pardon him. I look upon him as the guiltiest of the rebel lords.”
“Oh! say not so, my liege!” supplicated the countess. “His nature is loyal and generous.”
“He has not proved loyal to me,” cried the king. “He is a traitor—a vile traitor—and I will not pardon him. No more madam! you plead in vain. I pity you—but I cannot help you. The Earl of Derwentwater must die.”
As she still continued to clasp his hand, and bathe it with her tears, the king signed to the Duke of Richmond, who raised her and took her away.
This was not the only effort made by the unhappy countess.
She subsequently went to the lobby of the House ot Peers, accompanied by the Countess of Nithsdale, Lady Nairn, and many other ladies of distinction, but their petition was refused.
The Countess of Derwentwater was filled with despair when she had to communicate this sad news to the earl, but he bore it firmly.
“I am sorry you knelt to the usurper,” he said. “I am the guiltiest of all the insurgent lords in his eyes, because I am most attached to King James, and because King James is most attached to me. You have promised too much for me, sweetheart. I have never sworn allegiance to the Hanoverian usurper, and never will. I might engage not to conspire against him, but I refuse to serve him.”
“What is to be done?” cried the countess, despairingly.
“Nothing,” replied the earl. “I forbid you to make any further appeal to the tyrant. My death is resolved on.”
“I cannot think otherwise, daughter,” observed Father Norham, who was present.
“Perhaps your escape may be accomplished?” cried the countess eagerly.
“That is wholly different,” said the earl. “If you can aid in my deliverance, I shall rejoice. But I fear the attempt will not be successful.”
“Wherefore not?” said the countess.
“Because I believe that my destiny is otherwise,” rejoined the earl.
“Yield not to such fancies, my son,” said Father Norham. “Nor let any scruple hinder you from freeing yourself, if you can, from the tyrant's power. Break his bonds I counsel you, and escape from captivity and death. You may still be able to serve King James, and the great services you have rendered him, and the sacrifices you have made for him, may be rewarded.”
“Whatever is done, must be done quickly,” said the earl. “The time approaches when escape will no longer be possible—unless,” he added, with a strange smile, “I could walk, like Saint Denis, with my head off.”
Though the earl never quitted the Devereux Tower except for the scaffold, two remarkable escape occurred from adjoining fortifications, to which we shall refer.