London in the Jacobite times, Volume I

by Dr. Doran

The counsel for the Bill began by proposing to read extracts from Sir Luke Schaub’s letter to Lord Cartaret (20th April, 1722), which referred to the ‘plot in general.’ Sir Constantine Phipps, with characteristic Jacobite energy, opposed the reading of extracts, on the ground that the name of the informer was not given, and that the peers ought not to be kept in the dark, on this point. The bishop and his counsel were removed while this objection was being discussed (as they were on every similar occasion). The House resolved that it was proper that such extracts should be read in evidence of the plot, generally. Thirty-one peers protested against the injustice of such a proceeding.

After Atterbury and his counsel resumed their respective places (the former at the bar), decyphered renderings of letters in cypher, which had been opened at the Post Office, and then sent on, were put forward for reading. Mr. Willes, the decypherer, swore he had interpreted them by a key. Atterbury insisted that the key should be produced. On a division, the House decided that it was not expedient to do so; and against the unfairness of the decision, thirty-three peers entered a protest. The bill was read a first time, and the House adjourned.

THE WHIG PRESS AND THE BISHOP.

STREET INCIDENTS.

Meanwhile, the Whig press abused the bishop, discussed his guilt in an affirmative sense, and speculated upon his being hanged or exiled. The ‘British Journal,’ of April 13th, ridiculed Atterbury’s complaints against the Deputy Governor of the Tower: ‘At a late rencounter between a certain Colonel and a certain Prelate, the latter eat up his words; had there been any harm in what he eat, he would not have run the Hazard.’ At this same time, certain Jacobite wags had dared, like my Lord Cowper, to intimate that there had never been any serious plot at all. ‘A scandalous copy of verses,’ says the ‘London Journal,’ ‘burlesquing the discovery of the wicked conspiracy, is being printed and handed about Town. Strict search is being made after the contrivers and dispersers of the same.’ Search too was being made for other offenders. Two or three supposed Dukes of Ormond were captured in out-of-the-way inns; and not less than three representatives of Mr. Carte, the Nonjuror, allowed themselves to be taken on the same day by two eager messengers; only to be dismissed by disappointed Magistrates. A brace of these officials noisily entered the library of the learned Royal Society, in search of the grave, but Jacobite librarian, Mr. Thomas. The nest was warm, but the bird had flown. These were of the smaller episodes while the bishop’s trial was in progress. Some were serious enough. The temper of the people altered with the progress of the day. On successive mornings, the crowd was silent as Atterbury passed through it in his chariot, strongly guarded, from the Tower to Westminster Hall. Generally, his friends, close packed, awaited him at the entrance of the Hall, where, being lame with gout, he was carried in an easy chair through the Court of Requests and the Painted Chamber, into the House of Lords. In the evening, on the return to the Tower, the Jacobite spirit took a rough turn, especially in Fleet Street. That of the guards there took a rougher, which generally manifested itself in bayonetting some over-zealous fool. But Mr. Ridout, the great surgeon, lived in Salisbury Court, close at hand, and he profited by such accidents.

As soon as Atterbury had taken his place at the bar of the House, on the day for the second reading of the Bill—in support of the latter, the examination of one Neynoe before the Privy Council was about to be read aloud. Here, the prelate at once interfered. Neynoe had been drowned in the Thames, in attempting to escape from the custody of a messenger. Atterbury was ignorant as to whether Neynoe was a Jacobite or an enemy; and he urged his right to ask (what seems a dangerous question for himself) namely, if Neynoe had ever declared that the Earl Marischal, under the name of Watson, was in England in the spring of 1722, and had slept several nights at the Deanery in Westminster. The House resolved that the bishop had no right to put such a question.

OPENING OF LETTERS.

Next, Thouvois, a post-office clerk, deposed as to the letters he had opened and copied, before forwarding them (with no sign of violation) to the persons to whom they were addressed. The bishop, who was often more ready to interfere than his more wary and less impatient counsel, here pertinaciously claimed to know if the clerk had opened these letters, by superior authority, and if so, from whom he held the warrant, and where was that document at the present moment. The wisdom of a majority of the House declared itself to the effect, that to accord the bishop’s demand would be highly inconvenient for the public safety, and was altogether unnecessary for the prelate’s defence. Thirty-one lords energetically protested against this conclusion.

SIR CONSTANTINE PHIPPS.

At the re-appearance of Willes, the next witness, Atterbury showed more than ordinary eagerness to grapple with him. Willes quietly asserted that he had properly decyphered the arrested letters, given to him for that purpose. ‘Pray, sir,’ said the bishop (who had failed to obtain the production of the key), ‘will you explain to me your process of decyphering?’ ‘No, my lord,’ was the reply, ‘I will not. It would tend to the discovery of my art, and to instruct ill-designing men to contrive more difficult cyphers.’ The usual majority of the House was of the same opinion, and their lordships passed on to other matter—the production of copies of letters written by Kelly (the Nonjuror and sometime acting secretary to Atterbury), according to, it was said, the bishop’s dictation or instructions. Sir Constantine Phipps here saw his chance. He denounced altogether this course, at least till it could be proved that the prelate had any part whatever in them. The counsel for the Crown replied that they offered the letters written by Kelly, not in proof of special particular action, but of a conspiracy in general. They promised to make special and particular application of them to the detriment of the bishop, by evidence, at a future stage of the proceedings. Sir Constantine Phipps demonstrated that such a course would be one of rank injustice, unless he, on the part of the ‘unfortunate prisoner at the bar,’ was allowed to rebut the application by both evidence and argument.