TITUS OATES BEFORE THE PRIVY COUNCIL. (See p. [250].)

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The recital of this astounding story was listened to with amazement and incredulity. The listeners looked at one another in wonder at the audacity of the man who could relate such horrible and improbable designs, and expect to be believed, after the account which he gave of the mode by which he professed to obtain his information. This was that he had feigned a conversion to discover the designs of the Jesuits; had been duly admitted to the priesthood and to their monasteries, and finally entrusted with the conveyance of their diabolical messages. The Duke of York declared the whole to be a most impudent imposture, but others thought no man in his senses would come forward with such a startling tale, and implicate so many persons of consideration without some grounds. Where, they asked, were his proofs? Where were the papers that had been confided to him, which would be evidence against the traitors? Oates confessed that he had no such papers, but that he would undertake to procure abundance if he were furnished with warrants and officers to arrest the persons whom he had accused, and seize their papers. This was granted, and the next day the inquiry went on. It was objected to the letters seized at Windsor, that they were written in feigned hands, and were full of orthographical errors. Oates replied that that was the art of the Jesuits, who gave such documents a suspicious look, that if discovered they might pretend that they were forged. But Charles, who became even more persuaded that the thing was got up, asked Oates what sort of a man Don John was, as he professed to have been introduced to him at Madrid. Oates replied at once that he was tall, dark, and thin. The king turned to the duke and smiled, for they both were well acquainted with Don John's person, which had more of the Austrian than the Spaniard, and was fair, stout, and short. "And where did you see La Chaise," added Charles, "pay down the ten thousand pounds from the French king?" "At the house of the Jesuits," replied Oates, unhesitatingly, "close to the Louvre." "Man!" exclaimed Charles, who knew Paris better than Oates, "the Jesuits have no house within a mile of the Louvre."

These palpable blunders confirmed Charles in his opinion, and seemed to annihilate the veracity of Oates. The king, certain of the whole affair proving a sheer invention, went away to Newmarket, and left the duke and Danby to finish the inquiry. But they who had set Oates to work knew more than he did, and presently such confirmation was given to Oates's assertions as astonished every one. At first, the clue appeared broken. On examining the papers of Harcourt, the Provincial of the Jesuits, nothing bearing the slightest indications of a plot could be discovered; but not so with the papers of Coleman. This man was the son of a clergyman in Suffolk, who had turned Catholic, and was not only appointed secretary to the Duchess of York, but after her death was much in the confidence of James. Coleman was undoubtedly a great dabbler in conspiracy. He had maintained a correspondence with Father La Chaise, the confessor of Louis XIV., with the Pope's nuncio at Brussels, and other Catholics, for the re-establishment of the Catholic religion in England, and he made himself a centre of intelligence to the Catholics at home and abroad. He lived in great style, and his table was frequented by the Whig members during the sitting of Parliament. He sent weekly news-letters to the Catholics in various quarters, and made in them the severest remarks on the ambition of the French king and the conduct of the English Government. Yet all this time he was importuning Louis to furnish money for the establishment of the Catholic Church in England again. He obtained three thousand five hundred pounds from the bankers whom Charles had broken faith with on the shutting of the Exchequer, on pretence of influence with Parliament, and two thousand five hundred pounds from Barillon, to distribute amongst members of Parliament.

In 1675 a foreigner of the name of Buchateau, but who was called Louis Luzancy, had come to England, pretending to be a Catholic who was desirous of joining the English Church, and who gave information to some of the Opposition leaders that Father St. Germain, confessor to the Duchess of York, had threatened to murder him if he did not recant Protestantism. This made a great sensation, and he then said he had made the discovery of a Popish plot, in which the king was to be killed, and the streets of London were to run with the blood of massacred Protestants. Though it was soon shown by Du Maresque, a French Protestant clergyman, that Luzancy had fled from France for forgery, and a swindling transaction at Oxford soon proved that he was a great scoundrel, yet his story won him much patronage: he was ordained and presented to the living of Dovercourt, in Essex, during this present year. His pretended plot was very like this of Oates's, and might possibly be its model. He had accused Coleman of similar practices, but Coleman had boldly faced him and put him to silence. But now Coleman had fled, itself a sign of guilt; amongst his papers were found abundant evidence of his correspondence with the French Court in 1674, 1675, and 1676. In one letter he said to La Chaise, "We have here a mighty work upon our hands, no less than the conversion of three kingdoms, and by that, perhaps, the utter subduing of a pestilent heresy, which has for a long time domineered over a great part of this northern world. There never were such hopes of success since the days of Queen Mary." He declared the duke devoted to the cause and also to the French king. He said, "I can scarcely believe myself awake, or the thing real, when I think of a prince in such an age as we live in converted to such a degree of zeal and piety as not to regard anything in the world in comparison of God Almighty's glory, the salvation of his own soul, and the conversion of our poor kingdom." He declared that Charles was inclined to favour the Catholics, and that money would do anything with him. "Money cannot fail of persuading the king to anything. There is nothing it cannot make him do, were it ever so much to his prejudice. It has such absolute power over him he cannot resist it. Logic built upon money has in our Court more powerful charms than any other sort of argument." Therefore he recommended three hundred thousand pounds to be sent over on condition that Parliament should be dissolved.

These discoveries perfectly electrified the public. That there was a plot they now had no doubt whatever, and the information touching so close on the real secret of Charles's pension, must have startled even him. Coleman, in these letters, stated that Parliament had been postponed in 1675 till April, to serve the French designs, by preventing Holland from obtaining assistance from England. Yet when Oates had been confronted with Coleman before his flight, though Oates pretended great intimacy with him, he actually did not recognise him. Another proof, if any were wanted, that Oates was acting on the knowledge of others, not on his own. Whoever they were, they had become acquainted with Coleman's French correspondence, and who so likely as Shaftesbury and the Whigs who used to frequent this man's house, and who were themselves deep in a similar intrigue with the French Court?

Still more astounding events, however, followed close on this discovery. No sooner was this discovery in the letters of Coleman made, than Sir Edmundbury Godfrey, the magistrate before whom Oates had made his affidavit of the plot, who was a particular friend of Coleman's, and had warned him of his danger, was missing, and was found murdered amongst some bushes in a dry ditch between Primrose Hill and Old St. Pancras Church. Godfrey was of a sensitive disposition, which sometimes approached to insanity. On the apprehension of Coleman, Godfrey had been seized with great alarm, and expressed his conviction that he should be the first martyr of this plot. On the 12th of October he burnt a large quantity of papers, and that day he was seen hurrying about the town in a state of serious absent-mindedness. From that day he was missing, and it was not till the sixth day that his body was found. He lay forward, resting on his knees, his breast, and the left side of his face. His sword was thrust through his heart with such violence, that it appeared at his back. His cane was stuck upright in the bank, his gloves lay near it on the grass, his rings were on his fingers, and his money was in his purse. All these circumstances seemed to indicate suicide; and to confirm it, it was reported that when the sword was withdrawn, it was followed by a rush of blood. This, however, the doctors denied, and on being stripped, the purple mark round his neck showed that he had been strangled, and then thrust through, and his body, cane, and gloves so disposed as to persuade the parties that he had killed himself.

But who, then, were the murderers? This was never discovered, but the public, putting together all the circumstances, declared that the Papists had done it, and that Oates's story was all true. That Catholics, or at least such as were in the scheme of Coleman, had done it, appears very probable, although it has been argued that they had no motive. But it must be remembered that Godfrey was a friend and associate of Coleman's. He had always been a partisan of the Catholics; he gave Coleman warning to fly; he showed great alarm himself, and commenced burning papers. All these circumstances indicate complicity. That he was deep in the secrets of the party, and had dangerous papers in his possession, is clear. Coleman was in custody, and something might be drawn out of him. Godfrey might be arrested, and a man of his nervous temperament might reveal what concerned the lives of many others. There were the strongest motives, therefore, for those who had any concern in the dangerous conspiracy of Coleman, to have Godfrey at least out of the way.

The public mind was in the wildest state of alarm and fermentation. Every hour teemed with fresh rumours. Murders, assassinations, and invasions were the constant talk of the panic-struck public. The City put itself into a posture of defence; chains and posts were put up, and no man deemed himself safe.