STEPHEN COLLEDGE.
1681.
The first-fruit of this reaction appears in the discovery of a pretended new plot against the life of the King, arranged to be executed during his stay in the City of Oxford. The person made the scape-goat of the offence was Stephen Colledge, who had acquired some notice as a violent Protestant, and who had mixed himself up with Oates and the other witnesses against the convicted Papists. Colledge being indicted at the Old Bailey, had no true Bill found against him. Political opinions then influenced Jurymen to an extent which shocks us now that everything is done to banish prejudice from our Courts of Justice; and therefore the Ministers of the Crown, who managed this prosecution, after being baffled by the Whigs, who formed the panel in London, determined to carry the case down to Oxford, where they could empanel a number of Tories.[73] A true bill being found at last, Chief Justice North tried the prisoner; and, on that occasion, behaved in such an infamous manner, that it was thought probable, if he had lived to see another Parliament, he might have been impeached.[74] Nothing which any lawyer would now consider treasonable, could be proved against Colledge; yet he was convicted, condemned, and executed. The fate of this man excited a great degree of interest at the time, he being considered a rebel by one party, and a martyr by another. Letters written to the Secretary of State after Colledge’s death indicate the eager desire of the former to establish his guilt;[75] and, if we may credit other letters, Nonconformists showed much sympathy with the sufferer. One writer thought it very credible, that the Presbyterians at Lewes did, against the execution of Colledge, keep a very strict fast; and it was supposed they of Chichester did the like, but the circumstance wanted confirmation. Another correspondent the same month reported that the general discourse in that Cathedral City turned upon the man’s innocence, and described how much he had been wronged, and how his blood would cry for vengeance against the rogues who took away his life.[76] It is a strange circumstance, but it illustrates the irrational feeling of the moment, that some people, who were hounding this poor fellow on to the gallows, called him a Papist, and some called him an Anabaptist. At Colledge’s execution the Sheriff evinced much anxiety to know whether he belonged to the Presbyterians, to the Independents, or to the Church of England. Colledge—after having previously declared that he never had been a Papist—replied, that before the Restoration, he was a Presbyterian; that since then he had conformed to the Episcopal Church, until he saw so much persecution of Dissenters; and that, afterwards, he had attended Presbyterian meetings “and others very seldom.” Yet he had not forsaken the Establishment altogether; for, only three weeks before his apprehension, he had attended the ministry of Dr. Tillotson. He wished for union, and lamented that some of the Church of England preached that the Presbyterians were worse than the Papists, although he was certain they were not men of vicious lives.
STEPHEN COLLEDGE.
1681.
It is plain, from his own words, that at the time of his being charged with treason, Colledge was identified with Nonconformity; and, in a letter written by some one (not known) to the Bishop of London, July 11, 1681, it is stated, that just then Nonconformists were building several meeting-houses; and that, after the acquittal of Colledge by the Grand Jury in London, these people grew increasingly impudent. Before his execution, there came to him in Oxford gaol—“a fanatic, desiring to pray with him, but being not permitted, unless he would use the Liturgy of the Church of England, he refused.”[77] We learn that the poor man received “the Blessed Sacrament” from Dr. Hall, to whom he made confession.[78] That confession, or a large portion of it, is preserved; and, in substance, it corresponds with his speech at the gallows. He acknowledged in his confession, that he might, on some occasions, have “uttered words of indecency, not becoming his duty concerning the King or his Council;” and, if so, he begged their pardon, and in his speech he admitted that he had arms in his possession; but, said he, “they were for our own defence in case the Papists should make any attempt upon us by way of massacre.” Both in his confession and speech, he stoutly denied, that he had entered into any plot; nor did any sufficient evidence of such a thing come out on his trial. From the confession, it further appeared, that on the Sunday before his execution, the messenger who brought word respecting the day on which he was to die, assured him he might even then save his life, if he would only confess who was the cause of his coming to Oxford. He persisted in maintaining, that his coming was entirely of his own accord, and without any treasonable intention whatever.[79]
REACTION.
At Colledge’s trial, Dugdale and Turbeville, formerly co-witnesses of Titus Oates, appeared against him, whilst Oates himself took Colledge’s part, and vilified his old associates. The wretched combination against the Roman Catholics now broke up: the conspirators were quarrelling, the house divided against itself could not stand, the Nonconformist, who in his Protestant zeal had mixed himself up with discreditable people, now appeared as the victim, his own eagerness to sweep away religionists whom he disliked, had stimulated his enemies to imitation; and, as we conclude this singular history, it is impossible to forget the words of Divine wisdom—“With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.”
The same reaction which destroyed the Protestant Joiner, struck down another person who declared himself the Protestant Earl.[80] Shaftesbury, after the dissolution of the Royal Parliament, being accused of entering into a conspiracy against the King, found himself within the gloomy walls of London Tower. His spirits and wit did not forsake him; and when accosted by one of the Popish lords, whom he had been instrumental in sending there not long before, he replied, “that he had been lately indisposed with an ague, and was come to take some Jesuit’s powder.” Everything which ingenuity, prompted by malice, could suggest was done to injure in public estimation the late popular nobleman, and to prejudice his trial. The clergy inveighed against him as “the Apostle of Schism;” and the Catholics called him “the Man of Sin.” By the Tories he was styled “Mephistopheles,” and “the Fiend;” and by Dryden he was satirized in his Absalom and Ahitophel. The Bill at the Old Bailey having been ignored, the popular favourite prosecuted his accusers; and would, if he could, have raised an insurrection against the Government. Finding that enterprise impossible, he escaped to Holland, and died there in February, 1683, enjoying the hospitality of the Republic, which he had threatened to overthrow. “Carthago,” was their generous and graceful retort—“non adhuc deleta, Comitem de Shaftesbury in gremio suo recipere vult.”[81]
1681.