Part 7 (1/2)
But to follow James II.'s ill-fortunes to Rochester, where he was conveyed on the Tuesday at noon by royal barge, with an escort of Dutch soldiers, with Lords Arran, Dumbarton, etc., in attendance--”a sad sight,” says Evelyn, who witnessed the departure. The King recognised among those set to guard him an old lieutenant of the Horse who had fought under him, when Duke of York, at the battle of Dunkirk. Colonel Wycke, in command of the King's escort, was a nephew of the court painter Sir Peter Lely, who had owed his success to the patronage of Charles II. and his brother. The part the Colonel had to act was a painful one, and he begged the King's pardon. The royal prisoner was lodged for the night at Gravesend, at the house of a lawyer, and next morning the journey was continued to Rochester.
The royalist Sir Richard Head again had the honour of acting as the King's host, and his guest was allowed to go in and out of the house as he pleased, for diplomatic William of Orange had arranged that no opportunity should be lost for James to make use of a pa.s.sport which the Duke of Berwick had obtained for ”a certain gentleman and two servants.” James's movements, therefore, were hampered in no way. But the King, ever suspicious, planned his escape from Rochester with the greatest caution and secrecy, and many of his most attached and loyal adherents were kept in ignorance of his final departure. James's little court consisted of the Earls of Arran, Lichfield, Middleton, Dumbarton, and Ailesbury, the Duke of Berwick, Sir Stephen Fox, Major-General Sackville, Mr. Grahame, Fenton, and a few others.
On the evening of the King's flight the company dispersed as was customary, when Ailesbury intimated, by removing his Majesty's stockings, that the King was about to seek his couch. The Earl of Dumbarton retired with James to his apartment, who, when the house was quiet for the night, got up, dressed, and ”by way of the back stairs,” according to the Stuart Papers, pa.s.sed ”through the garden, where Macdonald stayed for him, with the Duke of Berwick and Mr. Biddulph, to show him the way to Trevanion's boat. About twelve at night they rowed down to the smack, which was waiting without the fort at Sheerness. It blew so hard right ahead, and ebb tide being done before they got to the Salt Pans, that it was near six before they got to the smack. Captain Trevanion not being able to trust the officers of his s.h.i.+p, they got on board the _Eagle_ fires.h.i.+p, commanded by Captain Welford, on which, the wind and tide being against them, they stayed till daybreak, when the King went on board the smack.” On Christmas Day James landed at Ambleteuse.
Thus the old town of Rochester witnessed the departure of the last male representative of the Stuart line who wore a crown.
Twenty-eight years before, every window and gable end had been gaily bedecked with many coloured ribbons, banners, and flowers to welcome in the restored monarch. The picturesque old red brick ”Restoration House” still stands to carry us back to the eventful night when ”his sacred Majesty” slept within its walls upon his way from Dover to London--a striking contrast to ”Abdication House,” the gloomy abode of Sir Richard Head, of more melancholy a.s.sociations.
Much altered and modernised, this old mansion also remains. It is in the High Street, and is now, or was recently, occupied as a draper's shop. Here may be seen the ”presence-chamber” where the dethroned King heard Ma.s.s, and the royal bedchamber where, after his secret departure, a letter was found on the table addressed to Lord Middleton, for both he and Lord Ailesbury were kept in ignorance of James II.'s final movements. The old garden may be seen with the steps leading down to the river, much as it was a couple of centuries ago, though the river now no longer flows in near proximity, owing to the drainage of the marshes and the ”subsequent improvements” of later days.
The hidden pa.s.sage in the staircase wall may also be seen, and the trap-door leading to it from the attics above. Tradition says the King made use of these; and if he did so, the probability is that it was done more to avoid his host's over-zealous neighbours, than from fear of arrest through the vigilance of the spies of his son-in-law.[1]
[Footnote 1: It may be of interest to state that the ill.u.s.trations we give of the house were originally exhibited at the Stuart Exhibition by Sir Robert G. Head, the living representative of the old Royalist family]
Exactly three months after James left England he made his reappearance at Kinsale and entered Dublin in triumphal state.
The siege of Londonderry and the decisive battle of the Boyne followed, and for a third and last time James II. was a fugitive from his realms. The melancholy story is graphically told in Mr.
A. C. Gow's dramatic picture, an engraving of which I understand has recently been published.
How the unfortunate King rode from Dublin to Duncannon Fort, leaving his faithful followers and ill-fortunes behind him; got aboard the French vessel anch.o.r.ed there for his safety; and returned once more to the protection of the Grande Monarque at the palace of St. Germain, is an oft-told story of Stuart ingrat.i.tude.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ARMSCOT MANOR HOUSE, WORCESTERs.h.i.+RE]
[Ill.u.s.tration: ENTRANCE GATE, ARMSCOT MANOR HOUSE]
CHAPTER XI
MYSTERIOUS ROOMS, DEADLY PITS, ETC.
At the ”Restoration House” previously mentioned there is a secret pa.s.sage in the wall of an upper room; but though the Merry Monarch is, according to popular tradition, credited with a monopoly of hiding-places all over England, it is more than doubtful whether he had recourse to these exploits, in which he was so successful in 1651, upon such a joyful occasion, except, indeed, through sheer force of habit.
Even Cromwell's name is connected with hiding-places! But it is difficult to conjecture upon what occasions his Excellency found it convenient to secrete himself, unless it was in his later days, when he went about in fear of a.s.sa.s.sination.
Hale House, Islington, pulled down in 1853, had a concealed recess behind the wainscot over the mantel-piece, formed by the curve of the chimney. In this, tradition says, the Lord Protector was hidden. Nor is this the solitary instance, for a dark hole in one of the gable ends of Cromwell House, Mortlake (taken down in 1860), locally known as ”Old Noll's Hole,” is said to have afforded him temporary accommodation when his was life in danger.[1] The residence of his son-in-law Ireton (Cromwell House) at Highgate contained a large secret chamber at the back of a cupboard in one of the upper rooms, and extended back twelve or fourteen feet, but the cupboard has now been removed and the s.p.a.ce at the back converted into a pa.s.sage.
[Footnote 1: See Faulkner's _History of Islington_.]
The ancient manor house of Armscot, in an old-world corner of Worcesters.h.i.+re, contains in one of its gables a hiding-place entered through a narrow opening in the plaster wall, not unlike that at Ufton Court, and capable of holding many people. From the fact that George Fox was arrested in this house on October 17th, 1673, when he was being persecuted by the county magistrates, the story has come down to the yokels of the neighbourhood that ”old Guy Fawkes, the first Quaker,” was hidden here! In his journal Fox mentions his arrest at Armscot after a ”very large and precious meeting” in the barn close by; but we have no allusion to the hiding-place, for he appears to have been sitting in the parlour when Henry Parker, the Justice, arrived--indeed, George Fox was not the sort of man to have recourse to concealments, and owe his escape to a ”priest's hole.”
The suggestion of a sudden reverse in religious persecution driving a Quaker to such an extremity calls to mind an old farmstead where a political change from monarchy to commonwealth forced Puritan and cavalier consecutively to seek refuge in the secret chamber. This narrow hiding-place, beside the s.p.a.cious fire-place, is pointed out in an ancient house in the parish of Hinchford, in Eastern Ess.e.x.
Even the notorious Judge Jeffreys had in his house facilities for concealment and escape. His old residence in Delahay Street, Westminster, demolished a few years ago, had its secret panel in the wainscoting, but in what way the cruel Lord Chancellor made use of it does not transpire; possibly it may have been utilised at the time of James II.'s flight from Whitehall.
A remarkable discovery was made early in the last century at the Elizabethan manor house of Bourton-on-the-Water, Gloucesters.h.i.+re, only a portion of which remains incorporated in a modern structure.
Upon removing some of the wallpaper of a pa.s.sage on the second floor, the entrance to a room hitherto unknown was laid bare. It was a small apartment about eight feet square, and presented the appearance as if some occupant had just quitted it. A chair and a table within, each bore evidence of the last inmate. Over the back of the former hung a priest's black ca.s.sock, carelessly flung there a century or more ago, while on the table stood an antique tea-pot, cup, and silver spoon, the very tea leaves crumbled to dust with age. On the same storey were two rooms known as ”the chapel” and the ”priest's room,” the names of which signify the former use of the concealed apartment.
Sir Walter Scott records a curious ”find,” similar in many respects to that at Bourton. In the course of some structural alterations to an ancient house near Edinburgh three unknown rooms were brought to light, bearing testimony of their last inmate. One of them had been occupied as a bedroom. The clothing of the bed was disarranged, as if it had been slept in only a few hours previously, and close by was an antique dressing-gown. How interesting it would be to know some particulars of the sudden surprise which evidently drove the owner of the garment from his snug quarters--whether he effected his escape, or whether he was captured! The walls of this buried chamber, if they could speak, had some curious story to relate.
Not many years ago the late squire of East Hendred House, Berks.h.i.+re, discovered the existence of a secret chamber in casually glancing over some ancient papers belonging to the house. ”The little room,” as it was called, from its proximity to the chapel, had no doubt been turned to good account during the penal laws of Elizabeth's reign, as the chamber itself and other parts of the house date from a much earlier period.