Samuel Atkins was immediately carried before the committee of inquiry of the House of Lords. The conduct of the committee reflected anything but credit upon its members. An account of the proceedings in his case was afterwards drawn up by Atkins for Mr. Pepys.[186] In the course of them he had been subjected to great annoyance and ill-treatment; he had been imprisoned for a considerable length of time, and had been tried for his life. Every motive was present to induce him to be unfair towards the instigators of his prosecution. Even if he were perfectly honest in drawing up his account, it could hardly be an accurate relation of what took place. The careful literary form in which it is written shows that he arranged it elaborately and revised it often. Since his papers were twice taken from him in prison, he must have composed it afterwards from memory.[187] But after full allowance is made for this, the statement probably represents with considerable truth what took place. It was not written for publication as a controversial pamphlet, but for Pepys’ private information. Atkins was likely therefore to attempt as far as possible to tell the truth. Moreover the conclusions to be drawn from it are supported by a consideration of the evidence produced in the case and the trial in which it ended.[188]
Atkins indignantly denied the whole story. He was several times called before the committee, and received considerable attention from the Earl of Shaftesbury himself, its most prominent member. Noble lords and reverend bishops alternately coaxed him to confess and threatened him with the awful consequences of a refusal. Plain hints were given to him that both he and his master must certainly be papists, and that he had only to admit their complicity in Godfrey’s murder to gain liberty, pardon, and prosperity. In the intervals he was remanded to Newgate to reflect upon the best means of getting out of it. Before he knew what reception his revelations would find with the parties, Oates had taken care to exonerate the Duke of York from all concern in the plot. It would be a fine stroke for Shaftesbury, with whose schemes this did not at all accord, if he could implicate the duke in the murder. If only Atkins could be brought to accuse Pepys, the duke, under whom he had worked for many years at the Admiralty, would offer an easy mark.
That this was Shaftesbury’s real object can hardly be doubted. Captain Atkins was known to be a person of disreputable character, and gave his evidence in the most suspicious manner.[189] When the man Child was produced he did not know Samuel Atkins by sight, and was unable to say anything about the matter.[190] The captain was treated by the committee with consideration. Although some show was made of pressing him in examination on his statements, the pressure was removed as soon as it appeared that his embarrassment was likely to lead to awkward consequences to his patrons.[191] He was sent to interview his namesake in Newgate in the hope of extorting admissions in the course of conversation, and seemed to have been posted with fresh charges against Pepys and the Duke. He was evidently prepared to spice and expand his evidence in this direction whenever it seemed desirable.[192] But before the time arrived for this, a new witness appeared upon the scene.
On Wednesday, October 30, a man named William Bedloe wrote from Bristol to Henry Coventry, secretary of state, signifying that he had information to give concerning the murder of Sir Edmund Godfrey, and desiring aid and protection in coming to London. The next day he wrote in a similar strain to Secretary Sir Joseph Williamson. Both the secretaries answered him. To make sure that he should not think better of his project and escape, Williamson wrote to the mayor of Bristol enclosing a communication for Bedloe, while Coventry addressed his reply to Bedloe and enclosed a letter to the mayor with orders to give whatever assistance might be necessary.[193] Bedloe gave himself up forthwith to the mayor and was sent post-haste to town. On November 7 he made a deposition before the council and was examined in the presence of the king; on the 8th he was examined by the Lords’ committee and made a statement at the bar of the House.[194] It has constantly been said that at his first examination Bedloe denied all knowledge of the Popish Plot, and after professing to speak only to Godfrey’s murder, the next day expanded his information to embrace more general topics; and it is told that the king on hearing this exclaimed, “Surely this man has received a new lesson during the last twenty-four hours.[195]” The story is a mere fiction. In his first deposition he “acquainted the Lords that he had several things to communicate to them which related to the plot, and that he was able to confirm several passages which Mr. Oates had discovered concerning the plot.”[196] Examined on this, he gave a long account of the military operations to be taken by the Roman Catholics; Chepstow Castle was to be surrendered to Lord Powis, who was to command an army of twenty thousand “religious men” shipped from Spain; a similar number were to sail from Flanders to join Lord Bellasis at Bridlington Bay. He had known this for four years, and had been employed by the Jesuits in London to carry letters to Douay, Paris, and Madrid.[197] As far as Bedloe’s character is concerned the matter is immaterial, for another lie from his mouth would scarcely add weight to the scale of his perjury; but it is important not to exaggerate the folly and credulity of the government, and here at least it has been maligned. This was little more than a support for Oates’ story in general. The more remarkable part of Bedloe’s information dealt with the murder of Sir Edmund Godfrey. All that need be extracted from it at this point is his evidence against Atkins. Godfrey, he swore, had been murdered on Saturday, October 12, in Somerset House, the queen’s palace. He was himself to have been one of the party to do the deed, but failed to come at the right time. Soon after nine o’clock on Monday night he had been taken by one of the murderers to see the dead body in the room where it had been laid. There, in a small company, he saw by the light of a dark lantern, standing near the corpse, two men “who owned themselves, the one to be Lord Bellasis’ servant, and the other to be Mr. Atkins, Pepys’ clerk.”[198] The account which was communicated to the Lords concludes: “The same time Mr. Atkins being called in before Mr. Bedloe, Mr. Bedloe saith that he is in all things very like the person he saw in the room with Sir Edmundbury Godfrey’s dead body; and he doth verily believe it was him that owned himself to be Pepys’ clerk; but because he never saw him before that time, he cannot positively swear it, but he doth verily believe him to be that man.”[199] According to Atkins’ own account Bedloe’s charge against him at this meeting was still more vague. Bedloe was asked if he knew the accused. Turning to Atkins he said, “I believe, Sir, I have seen you somewhere, I think, but I cannot tell where; I don’t indeed remember your face.” “Is this the man, Mr. Bedloe?” asked the Duke of Buckingham. “My Lord,” returned the informer, “I can’t swear this is he; ’twas a young man, and he told me his name was Atkins, a clerk, belonging to Derby House; but I cannot swear this is the same person.”[200]
Bedloe was a man of evil character. He had been in the service of Lord Bellasis, and had subsequently held a commission as lieutenant in a foot company in Flanders.[201] He was of a type not uncommon in the seventeenth century, one of the vast crowd who lived a roving life of poverty and dishonesty, travelling from one country to another, in many services and under many names, living upon their own wits and other people’s money, men for whom no falsehood was too black, no crime too gross to be turned to profit, men without truth, without shame, without fear of God or man. Bedloe was afterwards known to be notorious throughout Europe. He had been imprisoned in Spain for obtaining money under false pretences. He had been imprisoned in the Marshalsea for debt. He had been sentenced to death for robbery in Normandy, but had escaped from prison. When the agitation of the Popish Plot broke out he had only lately been released from Newgate. He had passed himself off on the continent as a nobleman, and had swindled his way from Dunkirk to Madrid. In Flanders his name was Lord Newport, in France he called himself Lord Cornwallis, in Spain Lord Gerard.[202] When he was examined before the House of Lords he denied without reservation that he knew Titus Oates.[203] The government made inquiries behind his back. His mother, his sister, and a friend were examined by the Bishop of Llandaff on Bedloe’s behaviour between November 2 and 5, when he had stayed at his mother’s house at Chepstow. It appeared that he had discoursed to them about the plot, and had announced his intention of discovering the murderers of Godfrey; but he also told them that he had known Oates intimately when they were together in Spain.[204] This might have led to unfortunate consequences. Bedloe attempted to recover the slip by saying that he had known Oates personally, but not by that name, since at Valladolid he had called himself Ambrose. Oates supported him by the statement that he had been acquainted with Bedloe in Spain under the name of Williams.[205] The recovery was not sufficient, for Bedloe had told his family that he had known Oates by the same name; but the unsystematic method of examination came to the informer’s aid, and the fact passed at the time unnoticed. His denial of Oates’ name and recognition of his person took place before the House of Lords, while the facts which proved his perjury in this only came to the notice of the privy council. When examinations of the same persons on the same or different points might be conducted by the secretaries of state, by the privy council, at the bar of the House of Lords, at the bar of the House of Commons, or before the secret committee of either one house or the other, and when it was the business of nobody to dissect and digest the results of this mass of raw evidence, it can hardly be a matter of surprise that contradictions went undetected and lying statements unrebuked.
In spite of this false step Bedloe was a man of some ingenuity and even moderation. In his evidence against Atkins he had left the way open to advance, if possible, and charge Pepys’ clerk more fully with being implicated in the murder, or to retreat, if necessary, and protest with a profusion of sincerity that he had been hoaxed. He was far too careful to run the risk of definitely accusing any one with having been in a certain place at a certain time until he was sure that his reputation would not be ruined by running upon an alibi. The tactics which he employed were justified by their success. After the examination of Friday, November 8, Atkins was sent back to Newgate and heavily ironed. On the following Monday Captain Atkins was again sent to him in prison and exhorted him to be cheerful and confess his guilt. This interview was the prelude to a visit on the next day from four members of the House of Commons, headed by Sacheverell and Birch. They went over the whole case to the prisoner, pointed out the extreme danger in which he was situated, urged him with every argument to confess, and declared that his refusal would be held to aggravate the crime of the murder. Atkins remained obdurate, and the four left him with serious countenances, Sacheverell saying as he went away that the prisoner was “one of the most ingenious men to say nothing” whom he had ever met.[206] Since nothing was to be gained in this fashion it was determined to bring Atkins to trial. The date seems to have been fixed for Wednesday, November 20, the day before the conviction of Staley. When the day came the case was postponed. Atkins remained in Newgate, and was allowed pen, ink, and paper to compose his defence. The fact was that the committee had received intelligence that Atkins could produce good evidence of an alibi for the evening of October 14, the only point at which the evidence of Bedloe touched him. He had in the meantime by the help of his friends collected witnesses, and the crown was unable to face the trial without knowing what statements they would make. When Atkins had committed enough to writing, his papers were seized, and gave to the prosecution detailed information on the subject.[207] On December 13 his witnesses were summoned before the committee of the House of Lords. They proved to be Captain Vittells of the yacht Catherine and five of his men. They were examined at length. On Monday, October 14, Atkins had sent word to Captain Vittells that he would bring two gentlewomen, his friends, to see the yacht. At half-past four o’clock in the afternoon they appeared at Greenwich, where the vessel lay, and came aboard. The captain took them to his cabin, and they drank a glass of wine. The wine was good, the company pleasant, and they stayed drinking till seven o’clock. Atkins then sent away his boat and returned to supper. After supper they drank again, and the gentlemen toasted the ladies, and the ladies toasted the gentlemen, till night had fallen and the clock pointed to half-past ten. By this time they were all, said the captain, pretty fresh, and Mr. Atkins very much fuddled. Captain Vittells put his guests, with a Dutch cheese and half a dozen bottles of wine as a parting gift, into a boat belonging to the yacht and sent them to land. The tide flowed so strongly that the men rowing the wherry could not make London Bridge, but set Atkins and the two ladies ashore at Billingsgate at half-past eleven o’clock, and assisted them into a coach. “Atkins,” said one of the sailors, “was much in drink, and slept most of the way up.”[208] He must have blessed the fate that led him to joviality and intoxication on that evening. It was obvious that he could not have been soberly watching Sir Edmund Godfrey’s corpse at Somerset House when he was at the time named by Bedloe, and for two hours after, first hilarious and then somnolent at Greenwich. The evidence was unimpeachable. The only fact revealed by a somewhat sharp examination was that some of the sailors had signed a paper for the information of Mr. Pepys stating at what time they had left Atkins. One of them admitted that he could not read, but added immediately that he was a Protestant. In the seventeenth century sound religious principles covered a want of many letters.
At this point the case rested. A true bill had already been found against Atkins by the grand jury, but it was not until Tuesday, February 11, 1679 that he could obtain a trial.[209] Important developments had in the meantime taken place, and Atkins was no longer the game at which the plot-hunters drove. On the day before he was brought to the bar three men were convicted of the same murder for which he was indicted on two counts, both as principal and as accessory. The former of these was now dropped, and Atkins was tried only as an accessory to the murder of Sir Edmund Godfrey. The centre of interest in the case had moved away from him and Mr. Pepys and the Duke of York, and the same evidence originally preferred against him was produced in court without addition. The case for the prosecution was lamentably weak. Captain Atkins swore to his previous story at greater length, but without any new statement of importance.[210] Bedloe followed with the story of the man who gave his name as Atkins at the meeting over Godfrey’s corpse; but whereas he had formerly seemed willing to recognise Atkins without much difficulty, he now professed himself entirely unable to swear to his identity. “There was a very little light,” he said, “and the man was one I was not acquainted with.... So that it is hard for me to swear that this is he. And now I am upon one gentleman’s life, I would not be guilty of a falsehood to take away another’s. I do not remember that he was such a person as the prisoner is; as far as I can remember he had a more manly face than he hath, and a beard.”[211] The crown evidence was so feeble that it was never even proposed to call the man Child. An attempt was made to show that Atkins was a Roman Catholic, but failed ignominiously.[212] The prisoner called Captain Vittells and one of his men, who proved an alibi in the most decisive manner; the Attorney-General threw up his case, and the jury without leaving the bar returned a verdict of not guilty.[213] Sir William Jones was anxious that no one should go away with the opinion that the king’s evidence had been disproved. The Lord Chief Justice supported him. He pointed out that Bedloe had not been contradicted, and that every one who appeared at the trial might speak the truth and the prisoner yet be perfectly innocent.[214] What he did not say, and what neither he nor many others thought, was that Bedloe might equally be telling the grossest falsehoods.
CHAPTER III
BEDLOE AND PRANCE
The change in the situation had been caused by the appearance of a witness whose evidence about the murder was of the greatest weight, and whose position in the intrigues of the Popish Plot has always been of some obscurity. Bedloe’s information was already of a startling character. It was as follows. Early in October he had been offered by two Jesuits, Walsh and Le Fevre, the sum of £4000 to assist in killing a man “that was a great obstacle to their designs.” He gave his word that he would do so, but when on Friday, October 11, Le Fevre told him to be ready at four o’clock the next day to do the business, he became nervous and failed to be at the place of meeting. On Sunday he met Le Fevre by accident in Fleet Street, and by appointment joined him between 8 and 9 o’clock P.M. the next day in the court of Somerset House. Le Fevre told Bedloe that the man whom he had been engaged to kill was dead and his corpse lying in the building at that moment. Bedloe was taken into a small room to see the body. Besides himself and Le Fevre there were also present Walsh, the man who called himself Atkins, a gentleman in the household of Lord Bellasis, and a person whom he took to be one of the attendants in the queen’s chapel. A cloth was thrown off the body, and by the light of a dark lantern he recognised the features of Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey. It was agreed to carry the corpse to Clarendon House, and to take it thence by coach to the fields at the foot of Primrose Hill. Bedloe promised to return at eleven o’clock to assist, but went away intending to meddle with the business no more. The next day he happened to meet Le Fevre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. Le Fevre began to rebuke him for breaking his word. Bedloe answered that he had been unwilling to come because he had recognised the dead man. Le Fevre bound him to secrecy and then proceeded to tell him how the murder had been committed. Under pretence of making a further discovery of the plot, the two Jesuits and Lord Bellasis’ gentleman had persuaded Godfrey to come into Somerset House with him. They then set upon him and with two others dragged him into a room in the corner of the court. A pistol was held to his head and he was threatened with death unless he would surrender the examinations which he had taken concerning the plot. If they could obtain these, said Le Fevre, fresh examinations would have to be taken, the originals could then be produced, and the contradictions which would certainly appear between the two would exonerate the plotters and convict the informers of falsehood in the eyes of the world. Godfrey refused, saying that he had sent the papers to Whitehall. Upon this they seized him, held a pillow over the face until he was nearly stifled, and then strangled him with a long cravat. On Monday night, after Bedloe had gone away, the murderers carried the body out into the fields and placed it where it was found with the sword run through it.[215]