Part 6 (1/2)

In 1681 a crisis arrived. The king and parliament could no longer act together, and when parliament was dissolved, two men were at the head of the struggle. One of these was Lord Russell. Meetings were held; some proposed to overthrow the king and set up a new ruler; others wished to rise and murder Charles II. But they were discovered, and Lord Russell was arrested. The messenger waited about the door for many hours, so that Lord Russell might have escaped, for the back door was open, but he would not; ”he had done nothing,” he said, ”which caused him to dread the justice of the country.” Lady Russell consulted his friends, and they agreed he ought not to fly.

Then he was sent to the Tower. It was the 26th of June. During the fortnight that elapsed between his arrest and trial, Lady Russell spared neither pains nor energy in finding supporters to defend her husband. She was constantly with him, she wrote for him, she encouraged his timid friends, she strengthened his firm ones, she left not a stone unturned to provide against the charges which would be brought forward to crush him whom she loved so dearly.

At last the trial came. The night before, Lady Russell wrote a few lines to her husband; she told him that she was going to be present, for friends thought she might be of use; she begged him to keep up heart for _her_ sake as well as his own. The court was densely filled; as Lady Russell entered, her pale face calm and brave, a thrill of anguish ran through the crowd.

”We have no room to sit down,” said the counsel. Lord Russell asked for pen, ink, paper, and the use of any papers he had, adding, ”May I have somebody to write for me?”

”Any of your servants shall a.s.sist you in writing anything you please,”

said the Chief Justice.

”My wife,” said Lord Russell, ”is here to do it.” And Lady Russell stood up in the midst of that crowded court to show that she was willing, more than willing, to fulfil this almost sacred office for her husband.

”If my lady will give herself that trouble,” said the judge, carelessly.

Trouble! It was no trouble to her. The resolute wife took her seat beside her husband, took up the pen, and during the whole long trial sat there, his only secretary and adviser.

Even when the sentence of death was p.r.o.nounced, Lady Russell did not give way. She tried later to move the heart of the king, but in vain; though she was the daughter of one of his oldest and most faithful servants, he refused pardon, unless Lord Russell would change his opinions.

”It is all true,” said the king when Russell's innocence was pleaded; ”but it is true that, if I do not take his life, he will take mine.”

Slowly all hope disappeared, and the fatal day approached. Lord Russell wrote to the king, ”I hope your majesty's displeasure against me will end with my life, and that no part of it shall fall on my wife and children.”

His last thoughts were for his wife; he dreaded the blow for her more than for himself. The parting with her was the hardest thing he had to do, for he was afraid she would hardly be able to bear it, he said to Burnet, the bishop who was allowed to be with him the last few days.

Tears came into his eyes when he spoke of her. The last day came, and Lady Russell brought the three little children to say good-bye for ever to their father. ”Little Fubs” was only nine, her sister Catherine seven, and the baby three years old, too young to realize his loss. He kissed them all calmly, and sent them away.

”Stay and sup with me,” he said to his wife. She stayed, and they ate their last meal together. Then they kissed in silence, and silently she left him. When she had gone, Lord Russell broke down completely.

”Oh, what a blessing she has been to me!” he cried. ”It is a great comfort to me to leave my children in such a mother's care; she has promised me to take care of herself for their sakes; she will do it,” he added resolutely.

Lady Russell returned heavy-hearted to the sad home to which she would never welcome him again, there to count the wretched hours till the fatal stroke was given.

On July 21st, 1683, she was a widow, and her children fatherless. They left their dreary London house, and went to an old abbey in the country, where Lady Russell gave herself up to the education of her children. She never neglected this duty she had taken upon herself, and her daughters never had any other teacher but their mother. She tried to dismiss her sorrow for their sakes, and interest herself in their pleasures. Politics still interested her, and it was with troubled feelings she saw James II.

mount the throne of England.

In 1688 her eldest daughter Rachel was married. The same year the Great Revolution began.

In 1689, William and Mary were crowned; one of their first acts was to annul the sentence against Lord Russell. When the parchment which effected this was laid on the table of that a.s.sembly in which, eight years before, his face and his voice had been so well known, the excitement was great.

One old Whig member tried to speak, but could not. ”I cannot,” he faltered, ”name my Lord Russell without disorder. It is enough to name him. I am not able to say more.”

Lady Russell's health was broken, and she was threatened with blindness.

It has been said that she wept herself blind, but this is hardly true. It was discovered she had cataract, and must give up writing by candlelight and reading.

Soon after her son, Lord Tavistock, was married at fifteen to a rich heiress, and her daughter Catherine to a n.o.bleman.

An amusing account is given of Catherine and her husband, which shows what favour the family was in at this time.

When they drew near Belvoir, where they were going to stay, verses were presented them on the occasion of their happy marriage; at the gate stood ”four-and-twenty fiddlers all in a row; four-and-twenty trumpeters with their tan-tara-ra-ra's; four-and-twenty ladies, and as many parsons.”