CHAPTER XXXI. Accusations.
By this time a very different complexion had been imparted to the scene. The interruption of the marriage ceremony, and the perplexities of the old usurer, tricked out of his intended bride, and bereft even of her substitute, had afforded abundant amusement to the company, who, so far from feeling pity for the sufferer, seemed vastly to enjoy his mortification and disappointment. But all laughter died away, and every tongue became suddenly mute, as Prince Charles, assuming the severe look and dignified deportment of a judge, commanded Clement Lanyere to stand forward, and prefer the charges he had to make against Sir Giles Mompesson.
All eyes were fixed upon the extortioner and his accuser; and though etiquette prevented the company from advancing too near the royal seat, a dense semicircle was formed in front of it, in the midst of which stood the two principal actors in the drama about to take place, together with the discomfited Sir Francis Mitchell.
Sir Giles Mompesson was not without great misgivings. He saw that his case was already prejudged by the Prince; and the glance of inquiry with which he had consulted his patron, the Marquis of Buckingham, and which was answered by a cold, menacing regard, convinced him that little support was to be expected in that quarter. Nevertheless, though he felt himself in considerable jeopardy, he allowed no look or gesture indicative of uneasiness to escape him; and the courage that had borne him through many a trial still remained unshaken. Not so Sir Francis Mitchell. He also perceived the perilous position in which he and his partner were placed, and his abject manner showed how thoroughly he was daunted. Look wherever he would, he found no sympathy: every one derided his distress.
But far more than the two extortioners did their accuser command attention. As he cast off his mask and displayed his appalling features, a thrill of surprise and horror pervaded such of the assemblage as had never seen them before. But the feeling was speedily lost in wonder. Drawing himself up to his full height, so that his lofty figure towered above those with whom he was confronted, he seemed to dart lightning glances against them. Even Sir Giles could not bear his scathing looks, and would have shielded himself from them if he could. Though fearful to behold, Lanyere's countenance had a terrible purpose impressed upon it which none could mistake. The effect produced by his appearance upon the spectators was shared even by Prince Charles, and a few minutes elapsed before the silence was broken. At length, the Prince again spoke:—
"I sit here," he said, "as the representative of the Majesty of England—clothed with the authority of my royal father, and prepared to exercise it, as he would do were he present in person. But though this seat is erected into a tribunal before which accusations against wrong-doers can be brought, and sentence upon them pronounced; still, whatever charges are now made, and against whomsoever they may be preferred, those charges will have to be repeated to the Lords of the Council of the Star-Chamber, before whom the accused will be taken; and any judgment now given will have to be confirmed by that high and honourable Court. Of late, the course of justice has been too often baffled and turned aside by the craft and subtlety of certain powerful and audacious offenders. Hence it has been the wish of the King's Highness, in order that the laws may no longer be broken with impunity, that certain preliminary inquiries and investigations should be made on the spot itself, where it is alleged that the crimes and misdemeanours have been committed; and, according to the evidence afforded, such measures as may be deemed fitting taken against the wrong-doers. All present have witnessed this mock ceremonial, and have laughed at its conclusion, but mirth will be changed to indignation, when it is known that the intended marriage was the result of a vile conspiracy on the part of Sir Giles Mompesson and Sir Francis Mitchell, against a young, virtuous, and unprotected maiden, whose beauty had inflamed the breast of the elder, and it might have been expected from that circumstance, the wiser of the two. Into the details of their infamous scheme, it will not be necessary now to enter; and it may suffice to say, that the devoted attachment of the damsel to another was wholly disregarded, while the basest means were employed to induce her consent to a match so abhorrent to her feelings, as must have been that with Sir Francis. Failing in this, however, the two conspirators went yet further. They forcibly carried off the maiden from her own dwelling, and detained her against her will within this house, till by their arts they imagined they had gained their point—and that a love-potion would accomplish all for them, that their persuasions and fair promises were unable to effect. But the damsel was guarded from all ill by an unseen friend—and the weapons of the conspirators were turned against themselves. You have witnessed how they have been duped, and, as no mischief has resulted from this infamous endeavour, the mortification they have endured may be taken as part punishment of the offence. Stand forward, fair Mistress Aveline Calveley, and substantiate what I have just declared."
Thus adjured, the maiden approached within a few paces of the Prince, and having made a lowly salutation, said,—
"All that your Highness has advanced concerning me is correct."
"Enough, fair mistress," rejoined Charles. "How say you, Sirs," he continued, in a stern tone, to the two extortioners. "Do you confess your guilt, and sue for pardon? If so, down on your knees before this injured damsel, and implore her forgiveness!"
A prey to violent terror, the old usurer instantly adopted the supplicatory posture recommended by the Prince; but Sir Giles refused compliance.
"Having committed no offence, I sue for no pardon," he said, with his wonted audacity. "I repel the charge with indignation; and, in my turn, accuse Clement Lanyere and Luke Hatton of a conspiracy against me. This damsel is but their tool, as I will show, if your Highness will deign to give ear to me."
"It were mere waste of time to listen to idle fabrications," replied Charles. "The evidence against you is complete, and my opinion upon it is formed. But what saith the maiden herself? Is she willing that any grace be shown her persecutors?"
"The redress I have already obtained at the hands of your Highness is amply sufficient," replied Aveline. "Great as has been the misery these two persons have occasioned me, and grievously as they have sought to injure me, I seek no further satisfaction; but would implore your Highness to pardon them. Their own thoughts will be punishment enough."
"Amply sufficient—for nothing can be more bitter," cried the old usurer, while a scornful smile curled Sir Giles's lips.
"Spoken as I expected you would speak, fair maiden," said Charles; "and, were there nothing else against them, I might listen to your kindly intercessions. But other and darker disclosures have to be made; and when you have heard all, even your compassionate breast may be steeled against them. Retire for a moment; but do not leave the room. Your presence may yet be needed."
And bowing graciously to Aveline, she withdrew under the care of the gentleman who had brought her forward, but still remained a spectatress of the scene.
"And now to proceed with the investigation," pursued Charles. "What have you to allege against the two persons before you?" he added, to Clement Lanyere.
"Were I to relate all their enormities, most gracious Prince," replied the promoter, "the recital would be too painful for your hearing, and that of this noble assemblage. But I will, in a word, declare that there is no kind of outrage, oppression, and extortion of which they have not been guilty. Their insatiable greediness has been fed by constant plunder; and, alike cruel and rapacious, nothing but the ruin and absolute destruction of their victims would content them. Merciless as creditors, they have ground their unfortunate debtors to the dust. The tears of the widow they have robbed of her husband and her means of existence—the despair of the orphan, whose fair prospects they have blighted—have failed to move them. Utterly unscrupulous as to the means of obtaining possession of property, they have forged wills, deeds, and other documents. Their ingenuity has been taxed to devise new means of unjust gain; and, imposing upon the King's Majesty by false representations, they have succeeded in obtaining his letters patent for certain monopolies, which they have so shamefully abused, as to bring his sovereign authority into discredit."
"Hold!" cried Sir Giles Mompesson. "To the first—vague and general accusations brought against me and my co-patentee, by this branded traitor, who, having been publicly punished for falsehood and libel, cannot be received as a witness, I have deigned no answer, conceiving such accusations cannot be for a moment entertained by you, most gracious Prince. But to this specific charge, I give a flat denial; and demand proof of it. I appeal to the most noble Marquis of Buckingham, through whose interest Sir Francis Mitchell and myself obtained those patents for the licences of inspection of inns and hostelries, as well as for the manufacture of gold and silver lace, whether he has ever heard aught to our disparagement in our conduct of them?"
"Do not appeal to me, Sir," replied Buckingham, coldly.
"Sir Giles has demanded proof of my charge, and I am prepared to produce it," said Lanyere. "As to the vagueness of my accusations, your Highness will judge of that when the full catalogue of the offences of these two extortioners, with the damnatory proofs of them, shall be laid before you. This memorial, signed by nearly the whole of the sufferers from their exactions, perpetrated by means of the monopolies, will satisfy your Highness of the truth of my statement—but I have also a witness to call."
"A witness!—here!" muttered Sir Giles, uneasily. "This must be a deeply-concerted scheme."
"Before you bring forward any one," said Charles, addressing Lanyere, "Sir Giles must be set right on one point in which he is in error. Your credibility is not to be disputed, and I accept your testimony against him."
"Your Highness!" cried the extortioner.
"Peace, Sir! you shall be heard anon," said Charles. "Produce your witness," he added to Lanyere.
At a sign from the promoter, Luke Hatton, who was standing near the doorway, stepped behind the tapestry, and almost immediately reappearing with Madame Bonaventure, led her towards the Prince, before whom she prostrated herself.
"Arise, Madame," said Charles, graciously. "Your features are not unfamiliar to me. Methinks you are the hostess of the French ordinary at the tavern of the Three Cranes, in the Vintry."
"Tour Highness is in the right—I am Madame Bonaventure, at your Highness's service," replied the hostess, enchanted at this recognition on the part of the Prince. "My lord of Buckingham, I am well persuaded, will condescend to speak to the merits and respectability of my establishment."
"In sooth will I, good hostess," replied the Marquis. "I can give your Bordeaux my heartiest commendation. 'Tis the best in London."
"Nay, I can speak to it myself—and to the good order of the house too; having visited the tavern incognito," remarked the Prince, smiling.
"Is it possible!" exclaimed Madame Bonaventure, rapturously. "Have I been so greatly honoured? Mon Dieu!—and not to be aware of it!"
"I must remind you of the cause of your appearance here, Madame Bonaventure," said Lanyere.
"You are required to depose before his Highness as to the exactions you suffered from Sir Giles and his partner."
"His Highness shall hear all from me," rejoined the hostess. "I should have been reduced to beggary had I submitted to their extortionate usage. I bore it as long as I could, but when absolute ruin stared me in the face, I had recourse to a noble friend who helped me in my extremity and delivered me by a, stratagem."
"It was a fraudulent scheme," cried Sir Giles;—"a fraud upon his Majesty, as well as upon those who enjoyed the privileges conferred by his letters patent."
"That I can contradict, Sir," said Buckingham, "since I myself was present on the occasion, and stated in the hearing of the large company then assembled,—several of whom are now before us,—that his Majesty relinquished all share of the ruinous fine of three thousand marks imposed by you and your co-patentee upon this good woman."
"And I trust you added, my Lord, that the King's Highness would never knowingly consent to have his exchequer enriched by such shameful means," said Charles, with a look of indignation. "These monopolies were not granted by his Majesty for the wrongful profit of their holders; and, since they have been turned to such iniquitous use, I will take upon me to declare that they shall all be suppressed. Do you attempt to deny," he continued to Sir Giles, "that this outrageous fine was imposed?"
"It were useless to deny it," replied the extortioner, with a malicious look at Buckingham; "but the noble Marquis has not always disapproved so strongly of my proceedings. Nay, I can show that he himself has been secretly a party to like transactions."
"Ah, villain!" exclaimed Buckingham,—"do you venture to calumniate your protector? I shall leave you to the fate you so richly merit. Your foul and false assertions cannot affect me; but they are not likely to improve your case with his Highness, who, though aware of its impotency, will perceive the extent of your malice. If you dared, I doubt not you would likewise assert that his Majesty himself was cognisant of your frauds and oppressions, and approved them."
"I do assert, and will maintain it—ay, and prove it, too—that the King's Highness was aware how these monopolies were managed, and derived a considerable revenue from them," said Sir Giles.
"You hear him, Prince," remarked Buckingham, with a disdainful smile.
"I would not have believed in such matchless effrontery had I not witnessed it," replied Charles. "You may retire, Madame," he added to the hostess, who, with a profound reverence, withdrew. "Have you aught further to declare, or any other witnesses to produce?" he continued to Lanyere.
"I have both, your Highness," replied the promoter.
"What more false accusations have you to bring against me?" demanded Sir Giles, folding his arms upon his breast, and fixing his keen gaze upon Lanyere.
"His Highness shall hear," replied the promoter. "I have a multitude of cases which I could adduce in support of my charges—all of which will be mentioned in due season—but I shall now content myself with one, and from it the nature of the rest may be inferred. But let me premise that, in the greater part of these cases, and in all the more important of them, where grievous and irreparable wrong has been committed, the engine employed by these crafty and dangerous men has been the Star-Chamber."
"The Star-Chamber!" exclaimed Charles, bending his brows.
"Your Highness will now perceive the drift of this cunning knave's argument," said Sir Giles. "Through me and my partner, all whose actions will bear the strictest scrutiny, he would covertly attack that high and honourable Court, whose dignity we have ever been most zealous to maintain; and his motive for doing so is because he has incurred its censure. When I have heard his precise charges, I will reply to them—ay, one by one—if he will bring forward the multitude of cases he affirms he can produce against me. But meanwhile I can fearlessly declare my innocence of the wrong imputed to me. If I have been to blame in those monopolies, I am not the only one in fault, as time will show. Nay, there are greater culprits than I"—looking hard at Buckingham, who regarded him disdainfully—"but I deny that I have done more than I can fully justify. As regards other matters, and the way in which my wealth has been acquired, I have acted only with caution, prudence, and foresight. Is it my fault that there are so many persons who, from various causes, will have money, no matter what they pay for it? If they apply to me under such circumstances, and ruin ensues to them, am I to blame? I lend monies as a usurer—all men know it. 'Tis my vocation, and that of my partner; and my answer is his answer. We have done nothing beyond the law; and the law, which has hitherto supported us, will support us still. To affirm that we have employed the highest court of the kingdom as an instrument of oppression and extortion is an assertion too monstrous to obtain a moment's credit. The Star-Chamber is too jealous of its honour not to resent the imputation; and such a charge will not escape its censure."
"Nevertheless, at whatever risk, I repeat the accusation," rejoined Lanyere; "and my words will not be forgotten by his Highness, and by all others who hear them. I assert that Sir Giles Mompesson has subtly and designedly perverted the practice of that high and honourable Court, causing it to aid his schemes of rapacity and injustice, and using it as a means of stifling the cries of his victims, and working out his purposes of vengeance. Hitherto, he has succeeded in masking his designs with so much skill that they have escaped detection; but when the mischief he has done under the mask of justice, and the wrongs and cruelties he has perpetrated in the name of the law shall be fully made known, no punishment will be deemed commensurate to his crimes. It is chiefly he and his partner who, by their evil doings, have brought the Star-Chamber into disrepute, and made it a terror to all just men, who have dreaded being caught within the toils woven around it by these infamous wretches; and the Court will do well to purge itself of such villanies, and make a terrible example of those who have so dishonoured it."
"The Star-Chamber will never desert its faithful servants, and such we have been," said Sir Giles.
"Say rather the serpents it has nourished in its bosom," rejoined Lanyere. "But to my case. Years ago, a gentleman possessed of noble estates in Norfolk, was unfortunate enough to have some dealings with these two usurers, who thus becoming acquainted with his circumstances, marked him for their prey. He borrowed a large sum of money from them. The loan was not obtained for himself, but for a younger brother"—here the voice of the promoter was choked with emotion, and a few moments elapsed before he could proceed—"I have said that the money was borrowed, not for himself, but for a younger brother, whose recklessness and extravagance had plunged him deeply in debt. Would that his too generous relative had left him to his fate, and allowed him to rot in a dungeon! But he rescued him from it, only to take his place in the end. From this sad epoch may all the unfortunate gentleman's calamities be dated. Certain title-deeds and other instruments had to be deposited with Sir Giles and his partner, as security for repayment of the sum borrowed. They were never returned. On the contrary, under one plea or another, all the deeds relating to the property were obtained from its unsuspecting owner; and then a mortgage deed covering the whole estates was forged by them."
"'Tis false!" exclaimed Sir Giles.
"Have I your Highness's gracious promise of pardon to all except the principals in these great offences?" pursued Lanyere.
"As it may materially serve the ends of justice that such promise should be given, I do not hesitate to comply with your request," replied Charles.
"In that case I shall be able to confound the villains with a witness whom they little expect to be produced against them," replied Lanyere. "Let Lupo Vulp be called," he added.
The summons was responded to as before by Luke Hatton, and the next moment the ill-favoured scrivener emerged from behind the tapestry, and made his way through the assemblage, who recoiled with abhorrence from him, towards the Prince.
"Who art thou?" demanded Charles.
"I am named Lupo Vulp, your Highness, and have for many years been a money-scrivener in the employ of these two gentlemen," replied the individual addressed.
"Thou knowest all their transactions?" said Charles.
"No man better," answered Lupo; "unless it be Clement Lanyere."
"You remember a certain deed of mortgage from Sir Ferdinando Mounchensey to your two employers?" said Lanyere.
"I remember it perfectly," returned the scrivener, "as I should do, seeing I prepared it myself."
During all this time Lupo Vulp had kept his eyes upon the ground, and had never dared to raise them towards Sir Giles, though he felt that the gaze of the latter was fixed upon him.
"Was Sir Ferdinando's signature attached to that deed?" demanded Lanyere.
"Look at me, Lupo, ere thou answerest," cried Sir Giles. "Look at me well—and take heed what thou say'st."
"Be not influenced by him," interposed Charles. "Look only at me, and speak truly, as thou valuest thy safety. If thou hidest aught, or falsifiest aught, the heaviest punishment awaits thee!"
"Hark ye, Lupo," said Sir Giles, in a low tone. "Be warned by me. Utter a word to my detriment, and as surely as thou art suborned to injure me, I will hang thee. I can do so, as thou knowest!"
"Fear him not, Lupo," said Lanyere. "Thou hast his Highness's gracious promise of pardon."
"If my life be but spared, most gracious Prince," said the scrivener, falling on his knees, and clasping his hands together in supplication, "I will reveal all I know touching the malpractices of these two persons."
"Speak, then, without fear," said Charles.
"I repeat my question," said Lanyere, "and demand an explicit answer to it. What was the nature of that deed?"
"It was a forgery," replied the scrivener. "Sir Ferdinando Mounchensey had nothing whatever to do with it. His signature was imitated from other deeds in the possession of my employers, and his seal was likewise fabricated."
"What say you to this, Sir?" said Charles, to Sir Giles.
"I deny it, as I do all the rest," he replied. "'Tis a foul conspiracy against me, as will appear in the end."
"This is only one amongst many such frauds committed by them, your Highness," said the scrivener. "Since I have your gracious promise of pardon, I will make a clean breast of it, and reveal all I know. Many and many a fair estate has been wrongfully wrested from its owner in this way—by forged deed or will. I will name all the parties to your Highness."
"Hereafter, I will listen to thee," rejoined Charles, motioning him to rise; "but I shall now confine myself to the case immediately before me. Proceed, Sir," he added, to Lanyere.
"I have come to the saddest and darkest part of all," said the promoter. "Your Highness has seen that a deed was forged to obtain possession of the Mounchensey estates—and the fraudulent design was only too successful. It was in vain Sir Ferdinando denied all knowledge of the instrument—in vain he refused payment of the large sum demanded—his estates were seized by the extortioners—and he was deprived of the power of redemption. He commenced a suit against them in the Star-Chamber, but here again he was baffled by the cunning and knavery of Sir Giles, and having unwittingly incurred the censure of the Court, he was cast into the Fleet Prison, where he perished miserably."
"A lamentable history," exclaimed Charles. "It is grievous to think that justice cannot be done him."
"Justice may be done his son," said Buckingham, "who has been oppressed in like manner with his father. Restitution may be made him of the estates of which he has been plundered."
"It is well," said Sir Giles, glancing at Lanyere. "You will not enjoy them."
"What means he?" inquired Charles.
"The estates were assigned to this treacherous knave, your Highness," said Sir Giles, pointing to Lanyere, "for a certain consideration, which was never performed. But, while denying, as I do most energetically, that any underhand means whatever were used by us to obtain possession of those estates, and repeating my declaration that a most artful conspiracy has been formed against us, I assert, as will appear on investigation, that if I fail in sustaining my claim to the Mounchensey estates, they cannot go to Sir Jocelyn."
"Wherefore not?" inquired Charles.
"Because Sir Ferdinando left them to his brother Osmond. I have possession of his will."
"It may be a forgery," said Charles.
"Not so, your Highness," observed Lupo Vulp. "This statement is correct."
"I have it with me now," cried Sir Giles, producing a document. "Will it please your Highness to look at it?" he added, handing it to the Prince. "You will see that the estates are wholly left to Osmond Mounchensey. If, therefore, your Highness should seek to deprive me of them, you must bestow them as they are herein bequeathed."
"Undoubtedly, if this instrument be valid," said Charles, looking at Lanyere.
"I do not dispute it, your Highness," said the promoter.
"But there is no proof that Osmond Mounchensey is living, your Highness," observed Lupo Vulp. "He has not been heard of for many years—not, indeed, since the time when his debts were paid by Sir Ferdinando. Though Sir Giles has used every exertion for the purpose, he has never been able to discover any traces of him—and it is reasonable, therefore, to suppose that he is no more."
"That is false," cried Sir Giles. "It is true I have long sought for him in vain—but within these few days I have obtained some tidings of him, which, if followed up, will assuredly lead to his detection. Nay more, Lanyere himself must know that he is alive, since, from the intelligence I have received, he must have been recently in company with him."
"Is this assertion correct?" said Charles, to the promoter.
"It is, your Highness," replied Lanyere; "but I had good reasons for concealing the circumstances."
"Undoubtedly," cried Sir Giles; "because you had ascertained from the traitor Lupo that this will existed, and feared a claim might be advanced to the estates—but they will never be yours, or Sir Jocelyn's. If not mine, they are Osmond Mounchensey's."
"He says right," remarked Charles.
"Then learn to your confusion, villain, that Osmond Mounchensey stands before you!" cried the promoter, addressing Sir Giles. "Behold him in me!"
"You Osmond Mounchensey!" exclaimed Sir Giles; eyeing him with an astonishment which was shared by Sir Francis and by the greater part of the spectators. To judge from their manner, however, Prince Charles, together with Buckingham and De Gondomar, did not seem unprepared for the announcement.
"Ay," rejoined Osmond to Sir Giles. "Look on me if you can. Never should my name have been revealed to you, except at a moment when there should have been no chance of its repetition, on your part, but for my brother's will, of the existence of which I have only been lately aware, and which has obliged me to avow myself. But for this, I would have remained for ever in obscurity, and have perished as I have lived—the despised Clement Lanyere. The name of Mounchensey should not have been shamed in me. But if I am the reproach of that ancient and honourable house—untarnished by any other member of it—I am also its avenger, and will wipe out effectually the stains you have cast upon it. By your machinations, villain, was my brother destroyed—by your machinations has his son been imprisoned, and his life endangered—by your machinations I myself was censured by the terrible Star-Chamber, and its severest punishments inflicted upon me. You knew not whom you tortured; and had you been aware of my real name, even this wrong might not have contented you. But no matter. From the hour when the tormentor, by your order, did his work upon me, I devoted myself to vengeance—slow, sure vengeance. I resolved not to interfere with your career of villany till you were full-blown in crime; and though I have had some difficulty in holding back my hand, I have been patient. The hour at length has arrived, and I hold you firmly in my grasp. I have crushed in pieces the whole of the fabric you have been at such pains to rear. Your estates and all your possessions will be forfeited to the Crown; and, if you escape with life, you will bear the indelible marks of disgrace which you have inflicted upon me!"
Overpowered by what he heard, Sir Giles threw himself at the feet of Charles.
"Do not sue to me, Sir," replied the Prince, regarding him with stern displeasure. "Enough for you to know that I have been in this much-injured gentleman's secret. Let your nephew now be introduced, Sir," he added, to Osmond Mounchensey.
"His nephew!" muttered Sir Giles, as he arose. "Nay, then, all is indeed lost!"
"I have felt that for a long time," groaned Sir Francis.