He was serious just for a few seconds. “I suppose a threat to one’s life is bound to give one pause for thought,” he said slowly. “Particularly if there is much to be repented in it.”
“Charles, what will you do?”
He lifted his shoulders. “According to Kirby, the French were involved. They have their spies here, he says. He mentioned names. It is all nonsense, but I have agreed to look at what he calls ‘the evidence.’ But…it is nothing.”
“I trust so.”
When he left me I could see that he was vaguely puzzled.
I was always alarmed when I heard of plots. It was a fact that kings were in danger and Charles must be aware of this more than most. Had not his father been murdered by his own people?
However, he thrust the matter aside. He treated it lightly and for the time I tried to see it in the same way.
I did not know that it was the beginning of the most dangerous period of my life.
IT WAS UNFORTUNATE, I often thought afterward, that Charles should have passed over the unravelling of what was to be known as the Popish Plot to Thomas Osborne, Earl of Danby.
Charles had been right when he said that the plot was the fabrication of mischievous men. Danby must have been aware of this, but he was in such dire straits himself that he seized the opportunity to turn attention to another quarter.
Danby was a very ambitious man who at this time saw his dreams of greatness crumbling away. His administration of the country’s finances had been somewhat questionable and it had been discovered that on occasion he had taken bribes. He had been involved with Charles in some of the secret negotiations with Louis and this had been revealed to his old enemy Ralph Montague. Montague had shown his enmity to Danby by exposing these revelations to the House of Commons; as a consequence of this — in addition to his questionable financial dealings — Danby had been put in danger of being impeached.
Another who had scores to settle was the Earl of Shaftesbury. He was one of those who had tried hard to persuade Charles to divorce me and he was obsessed by the idea of bringing in a Protestant queen to take my place. He had made many miscalculations. He had, however, succeeded in introducting an Act to exclude Catholics from holding high office; but in his great desire to rid the King of his Catholic wife he had failed.
I did not know Shaftesbury well but from what I gathered he was a vindictive man. He was a fanatical Protestant and as such there were two people he wished to destroy: first the Duke of York, and second, myself.
I often wondered how much credence would have been attached to the Popish Plot if these two had not been there to fan the sparks which had been ignited by unscrupulous men.
Certain men sprang into prominence then. I am a little confused about it even now and I think it is best to set out the plot as it unfolded, that it may be seen how I was drawn into it and how it so easily could have led to my downfall.
At the heart of the plot was Titus Oates, who in a short time was being talked of everywhere as the country’s savior.
He was a scoundrel and any who looked into his background could have discovered this. But he was plausible and had his friends; and there were stern Protestants in the country who dreaded a return to Catholicism and desired Catholics to be discredited at all costs.
Titus Oates was the son of a ribbon weaver who had been involved with anabaptists. The ribbon wearer became an army chaplain and was expelled for trying to rouse rebellion in the ranks. He found a living in Hastings from which he was again expelled for misconduct. Titus seemed to have followed in his father’s footsteps.
They were in continual trouble, from which they invariably seemed to extricate themselves, and by some means Titus found a place in the University of Cambridge. There he disgraced himself by falling deeply in debt and failing to get his degree, but with his customary dexterity he managed to slip into Holy Orders and returned to his father as a curate.
There was soon trouble, however. Both father and son seemed to have a mischievous compulsion to seek it; and a few months after Titus joined his father, the two of them brought a charge against a local schoolmaster. This was proved to be absurd and Titus and his father found themselves faced with damages which they were quite unable to meet. Titus was sent to prison and his father lost his living.
It was not long, however, before Titus escaped from jail. He joined the navy, from which he was soon expelled. I was never able to understand how he could extricate himself from these situations and establish himself afresh.
He then spent some time in Spain, where he decided to join the Jesuits. After a few months, once more he was expelled and he returned to England, styling himself D.D. of Salamanca, a title to which, of course, he had no right.
In spite of everything, he managed to find a place in the household of the Duke of Norfolk where he encountered many papists. It was probably there that the idea of the Popish Plot began to grow in his mind.
He was not welcome there for long and soon found himself in London. Without the means to support himself, he turned to a man he had met some years before when he had been vicar of a Kentish parish.
Israel Tonge was not the villain Oates was. He was a scholar who had emerged from the university with his degree, but in spite of his scholarship he had found it hard to make a living. He had been rector of a London church at the time of the great fire and his was one of the many churches which had been burned to the ground. After that he had translated some holy works, but this brought him little money. Then Sir Richard Barker, who had admired his work, offered him a place in his house in the Barbican.
At that time he had come into contact with Titus Oates. He believed that the Catholics in England were trying to get into power, and they would have a chance of doing this when James came to the throne. But this might not be for some time, and the Protestants should refuse to have him.
Tonge was convinced that the plot which the Catholics had devised must be prevented from being carried out, and those concerned in it must be brought to trial.
This was a project close to the heart of Titus Oates. Intrigue was life to him; also it was a means of getting a roof over his head.
The two conspirators worked in unison and with Oates’s imagination and love of plotting, Tonge’s original suspicions were greatly increased. Enthusiasm grew and it was agreed that the King should be warned without delay. Kirby had joined them and, because he had once worked in a royal laboratory, he was considered to be the one most suited to approach the King.
Tonge’s statement was set out with great care and some erudition. Oates’s sojourn with the Jesuits and the information he had collected about them gave him the chance to add to Tonge’s statement and the plot became mainly Titus’s own.
It was presented to Danby and, faced with what he deemed might be a good diversion from his own affairs, he gave it more consideration than he would otherwise have done.
I heard rumors of this and it filled me with anxiety. In the first place, I was disturbed to learn of designs on the King’s life; and I was deeply concerned that the Catholics should be blamed.
Charles knew this and came to tell me what was happening, so that I should not be worried by all the wild rumors which were circulating.
“You will have heard of this Popish Plot which is being talked about,” he said.
“I want to hear about it,” I replied. “I want to know the truth.”
“It is the wildest fabrication. This man Oates seems to be behind it…with Israel Tonge.”
“What does it mean?”
“That certain people want to make themselves appear more important than they are.”