Roger Willoughby: A Story of the Times of Benbow

  CHAPTER ELEVEN.

  The assize at Dorchester was opened on the 3rd of September. Jeffreyshad already passed through Hampshire, and succeeded in Winchester inpronouncing sentence on the Lady Lisle for harbouring two fugitives fromSedgemoor. He condemned her to be burnt alive that very afternoon, but,happily, the excessive barbarity moved the feelings of the clergy of thecathedral, who induced him to put off the execution; and though everyeffort was made to obtain her pardon, the utmost that was gained wasthat her sentence should be commuted from burning to being beheaded.She was put to death on a scaffold in the market-place of Winchester,and underwent her fate with serene courage. At Dorchester more thanthree hundred prisoners were to be tried. The court was hung withscarlet, an indication of the bloody purpose of the Chief Justice. Itwould seem that the work would require a long time to get through.Jeffreys, to make it light, let it be understood that the only chance toobtain a pardon or respite was to plead guilty. On the followingmorning he attended Divine service at Saint Mary's Church. When theclergyman, in his sermon, spoke of mercy, Jeffreys was observed tolaugh,--an omen of coming vengeance. The sermon over, the Judge,attended by many of the principal gentry of Dorset, Somerset, and Devon,entered the Great Hall. Without loss of time he commenced his charge tothe Grand Jury in a tone of voice and language which astonished andalarmed all who heard it. He warned them that their business was tomake most strict inquiries not only after principals but after aidersand abettors, the fact being that many of the jury had shelteredrefugees, thus making them accessory to high treason after the fact. Asnot only weeks but months might have been consumed had the ordinaryprocess been proceeded with, to avoid this the Judge adopted a plan toshorten the business, and to procure a confession, without which not atenth part would have been legally proved guilty. Two officers, suchwas his plan, were sent into the jail to call over and take the names ofthe prisoners; they were to promise pardon or execution. If theprisoners confessed, they were told that they might expect mercy,otherwise not; and as many were induced to accept the proffered mercy,these officers were in a condition to appear as witnesses of theirconfession. The first thirty, however, mistrusting the cruel Judge,preferred the chances of an ordinary trial. This was on Saturday. Thesame evening Jeffreys signed a warrant to hang thirteen on the followingMonday, which was punctually performed. Nearly the whole of theremainder were executed. Witnesses were brow-beaten in a most fearfulmanner. Jeffreys thundered at them, using the most abusive language;but the scenes which took place are too horrible, too disgraceful, to bedwelt on. No less than two hundred and ninety-two persons receivedsentence of death at Dorchester alone. Among them were the twoBattiscombes; they had nothing to plead, except that they had taken uparms under the firm belief that they were fighting for the defence ofthe Protestant faith against Popery. Very many others were in the samecase. Mr Battiscombe did not venture to plead for his sons, for hemight himself have been seized and condemned by the unjust Judge, whilehe was utterly powerless to assist them openly. The health of theColonel did not allow him to leave home, or, interested as he was in thefate of his young friends, he would have gone to try and help them. MrWilloughby, however, who was dauntless in a good cause, offered toattend the assize to be ready to take advantage of any opening whichmight occur. As he listened, however, to the language of the Judge, wholooked more like a drunken madman than a minister of justice, he was indespair; he exerted himself to ascertain the places and time ofexecution of the different prisoners. He found that Andrew, togetherwith Colonel Holmes, Dr Temple--the Duke's physician--Mr Tyler, whohad read the Declaration, were to be executed at Lyme, near the spotwhere the Duke of Monmouth had landed, about half a mile west of thetown. It gave him slight hope that Stephen might escape; but he in vainendeavoured to see him or to ascertain what was to be his fate. He wasreturning from the Court to his inn, when he saw before him a slightfemale figure in a riding-dress; it was Alice.

  "Oh, uncle Willoughby!" she exclaimed, taking his hand; "do not blameme; while there is life there is hope. I cannot let Stephen perishwithout endeavouring to save him; I should never forgive myself."

  "I cannot blame you, Alice," said Mr Willoughby. "How are you going toproceed? What means have you at your disposal?"

  "I know that I can promise any sum that Mr Battiscombe has it in hispower to pay, and I propose seeing the Judge himself," said Alice. "Iwill tell him that the death of one brother is sufficient to appease thedemands of justice."

  "But I fear, Alice, that he will say both are equally guilty," observedMr Willoughby. "And you must be prepared for a refusal. Still, Iwould not hinder you from seeing the Judge, terrible as he is in hismanner and appearance."

  "I have thought over everything," answered Alice, "and resolved to bravethe lion in his den. He condemned the elder brother to death, and hemay be induced to suppose that the younger was led to join the Duke byhis influence."

  "I fear much, Alice, that he will be influenced by no otherconsideration beyond the amount you can offer him," said Mr Willoughby.

  Strong in the justice of her cause, and prompted by her devotion toStephen, in spite of the savage nature of the Judge, her aim was to seehim before he entered the Court; for she heard that once there, inflamedand excited by his drams of spirits, and by his remarks to prisoners,witnesses, counsel, and jury, she was less likely to induce him tolisten to her petition, or to understand its object. She had thereforeto remain all night in an agony of doubt and fear in a room next to MrWilloughby's. She awoke at early dawn from hearing a noise in thestreet, and, looking out of her window, the first figure she recognisedwas that of Andrew Battiscombe; there were two other gentlemen whom sheknew by having seen them in court, and who she heard were condemned todeath. Her eye ranged over the others, in dread lest Stephen might beseen; but he was not there. She felt relieved, and yet she knew how hemust be grieving for the loss of his brother. She hurriedly dressed, inthe hopes of being able to say a few words of comfort to poor Andrew, tohear from him of his parting with his brother, also to tell him of herintention of having an interview with the Judge. Scarcely, however, hadshe reached the street than the mournful procession, guarded by a strongband of soldiers, was ordered to march on. She would have rushedforward to speak to Andrew, as others were doing to their friends andrelatives, but the soldiers closed round them, and kept every one off.She returned to her room to finish her toilet, so that she might beprepared to set out with Mr Willoughby as soon as it was likely thatthe Judge would have risen. Mr Willoughby was soon ready, and as itwas understood the Judge breakfasted early, she was eager to start. Shehad nerved herself up for the encounter, fully prepared for whatevermight be said to her. She had heard of the language Jeffreys wasaccustomed to use towards people of all classes, and she did not supposeher sex and youth would enable her to escape. She was glad, however, tolean on Mr Willoughby's arm as they approached the house where theChief Justice had taken up his quarters. Alice had a letter ready,requesting to see him on an important matter. In a short time theservant, to whom she had given the letter, appeared and said that theChief Justice would see her. Mr Willoughby thought it prudent toremain in the court below. He knew that, should he go in with her,unpleasant questions would be asked, and he would probably be branded asa Puritan, and perhaps sent off to prison to undergo his trial. Alice,without trembling, followed her guide and was ushered into a large room,at the further end of which sat the Chief Justice before aplentifully-spread breakfast-table. His eyes were ferrety, his nose andcheeks fiery red, his countenance even in rest had a savage expression.

  "Well, young woman, who are you, and what do you want?" he asked in agruff tone.

  "Please, my lord, I am grand-daughter of a Cavalier who died fightingfor his king; my father was a loyal gentleman, and I have been broughtup by my guardian, Colonel Tregellen, an old Cavalier. I have had nosympathy with the late Duke of Monmouth, and yet I come to plead for thelife of one who has been implicated in his rebellion."

/>   "Some crop-eared knave with whom thou hast fallen in love, wench,"growled the Chief Justice. "Out on thee, for an idle baggage!"

  "I come to plead for the life of my betrothed husband," said Alice."And, my lord, there are those who value him for his honesty and othergood qualities, and are ready to pay as large a sum of money as they cancollect, to obtain his pardon, and I am authorised to hand it over toyour Lordship, that you may do with it as you think fit."

  Jeffrey's eyes sparkled as he turned them towards Alice. "What is thename of this precious youth, thy betrothed husband, wench? I warrant hethinks thou art worth living for."

  "Stephen Battiscombe," answered Alice.

  "Why, he is one I yesterday sentenced to death; he should have been hungby this time, so you are too late, wench."

  "Please you, my lord, it was his elder brother, Andrew Battiscombe,"said Alice. "Were he even more criminal than he is, surely the death ofone in the family is sufficient to satisfy the ends of justice."

  "I would stamp out the whole brood of vipers, could I catch them," saidJeffreys.

  Poor Alice felt her heart sink, but she was not to be defeated.

  "Whatever his crime, my lord, the sum I am authorised to place in yourLordship's hands, on receiving his pardon, will, I hope, condone it."

  "Ho, ho," said the Chief Justice, eyeing the notes and rolls of gold;then, turning to a list he had by his side: "I see he is condemned to behung, and should have been strung up with his brother this afternoon.To pardon him is impossible. All I can do is to commute his sentence,and condemn him to be sent as a slave to the West Indies. There, do notbe weeping, wench. You have obtained your lover's life, at a cheap ratetoo. If you care for him you will rejoice. You have saved him for atrumpery thousand pounds."

  "But can he not be pardoned, can he not be pardoned, my lord?" exclaimedAlice, clasping her hands. "To be banished to the West Indies as aslave is a terrible punishment."

  "We can hang him instead," said Jeffreys.

  "Then, will you give me a paper stating that his sentence is commuted?"

  "You doubt my word, wench? Well, you shall have it to satisfy yourincredulity," and he wrote a few lines. "Stephen Battiscombe, sentencedto death, punishment commuted to ten years' slavery in Jamaica."

  Alice could scarcely refrain from giving a cry of dismay as she sawthis. "Could he not be sent to Virginia?" she asked.

  "Could you not go out and join him there?" exclaimed the Judge,tauntingly. "If you are not content with having saved your crop-earedlover's life, you shall have his dead body by to-morrow morning, wench,and I will order him to be hung forthwith."

  "Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Alice, clasping her hands. "Let him live--inyour clemency let him live!" and, scarcely waiting to pay a formalfarewell to the Judge, she hastened out to rejoin Mr Willoughby. Hehad in the meantime discovered the prison where Stephen was confined.It was not a place into which Alice could have entered alone, but shewas able to accompany him. Together they sought out the officer who hadcharge of the prisoners, and presented the document which the Judge hadgiven to Alice, to prevent the risk of any mistake being made. The manlooked well pleased. "A live prisoner is worth ten dead ones, and youmay depend on it we will not hang him if we can help it."

  Alice had hoped to have been allowed to see Stephen, to communicate tohim the fact that his life had been spared. This the jailer said wasimpossible, though he promised to do so as soon as he could. Aliceremained another day with her kind friend Mr Willoughby, and at lengthsucceeded in obtaining an interview. Stephen had heard the change inhis fate. "While there is life there is hope," he said. "I may reachJamaica; when there, I may succeed in obtaining my liberation, andhappier days may be in store for England, and I may be able to returnwithout let or hindrance."

  Alice was equally hopeful, and they parted, she having the satisfactionof believing that she had contributed to save Stephen's life.

  The Colonel received her with a look of approbation as she arrived."You have acted like a brave girl," he said. "I trust that we shallwelcome Stephen back again some day, though."

  The Colonel tried to keep up Alice's spirits, and did not tell her ofthe cruel execution which had taken place at Lyme a few days before,when twelve gentlemen, all of education and high character, were put todeath, including poor Andrew Battiscombe.

  The fate of those who were transported was still more cruel. They wereindiscriminately sold to West India merchants, planters, and others, whoshipped them off crowded together in small vessels to Jamaica. Stephen,with upwards of eight hundred poor wretches, who had been condemned tobe sold as slaves by Jeffreys, arrived in London, having been carriedthere in carts. Here they were awarded to the various noblemen,courtiers, and others who had applied for them, who sold them for thesum of ten pounds each. Few of them were of the rank of gentlemen--nearly all Monmouth's officers having been executed, with the exceptionof such as could pay heavy fines for their lives. Lord Grey, Ferguson,Wade, and other leading men were allowed to live, the former payingforty thousand pounds to the Lord Treasurer, and smaller sums to othercourtiers, for their lives. In London the slaves met many of thefollowers of Argyll, who had, like them, been condemned to the WestIndies. Stephen, with about sixty others, was shipped on board a smallvessel, the _Surge_, Captain Hawkins, which, with seven other vesselsfreighted in the same way, set sail together from the Thames. Never asadder fleet left the shores of England. The unhappy passengers knewthat they were never likely to see those shores again; they had beentorn from their families, their relatives and friends, and were going toa pestiferous climate, to be employed in the open air under a burningsun, like the negroes from Africa,--a climate which, under suchcircumstances, is sure to prove fatal to Europeans. Stephen,notwithstanding what he had gone through, was in tolerable health, andhe did his utmost to keep up his spirits. Scarcely was the fleet freeof the Channel than, a heavy gale springing up, the _Surge_ wasseparated from her consorts, and proceeded on her voyage alone. Thepassengers were secured together below like African slaves, on a deckextending nearly fore and aft, with low benches on which they could sit,a bar running behind it with iron rings to which they were chained.Here they were compelled to sleep and take their meals, a few only beingallowed on deck at a time. Stephen contrived to make himself known tothe Captain, who listened with interest to the account of his adventuresin Africa, and allowed him more liberty than the rest. The _Surge_ hadnot made much progress when she encountered another gale, in which shereceived much damage. A heavy sea came sweeping over her deck.

  "Hold on for your lives," shouted the Captain. When the sea had passed,the second mate and two other men had disappeared; they were seen for aninstant struggling in the waves astern. There was no hope of savingthem; indeed, it seemed but too likely that the _Surge_ herself wouldere long founder. The pumps were manned, but the crew were soon knockedup. Stephen proposed to the Captain to liberate the slaves, in order toget them to work the pumps, and explain to them that unless they did so,the vessel would sink, and they would lose their lives. To this theyagreed, Stephen setting them the example. Many of them, who hadsuffered greatly from the voyage, were unequal to the task, and sankdown exhausted. The crew, who had no intention again of working thepumps themselves, endeavoured to stir them up. Several declared theirinability to labour, and proved it by dying shortly afterwards on thedeck where they lay. Stephen, however, urged the stronger ones topersevere explaining to them that they were working for the common good.The leak continued, and though by keeping the pumps going the water didnot gain on the ship, it was found impossible to discover it, and it wasevident that only by the greatest exertions they could hope to reachtheir port. A fever, however, of a malignant character broke out amongthe unhappy passengers as soon as they got into warm latitudes. Nosurgeon had been sent on board. First one died, then another, andanother. Stephen suggested to Captain Hawkins various means forremedying the malady by fumigating the vessel. Nothing seemed to havethe slightest
effect on those once stricken. Before long two of thecrew were attacked, and died. The weather again became calm, and theleak with considerable exertion was kept under, but the fever did notabate. The death-ship sailed on, losing sometimes three or four of hercrew or passengers daily. The Captain had asked Stephen to take chargeof a watch, and he now enjoyed perfect liberty, and took possession ofthe cabin of the second mate, who had been lost overboard. Should thedeath-rate continue there would be few left on board when the vesselarrived at Jamaica, even should the fair wind and fine weather continue.The first mate did not appear to be much of a navigator, and on thefever attacking the crew as well as the passengers, he lost all heart.Stephen did his best to doctor him, but before long he also succumbed,and the _Surge_ was left with a very limited crew.

  Captain Hawkins was a stout-hearted man, and kept up his courage. Heasked Stephen to select some of the passengers to assist him in workingthe ship. It was Stephen's afternoon watch, when he saw heavy cloudsgathering in the west. They came on rapidly, while the sea below themwas broken up into a mass of foam. He immediately sent and summoned theCaptain, and ordered sail to be shortened. Short-handed as the _Surge_was through the loss of so many of her crew, this was done but slowly.The Captain, who had quickly come on deck, and Stephen exertedthemselves to the utmost, while they tried to obtain the assistance ofsome of the passengers; but those not labouring at the pumps were unableto be of much use. Before all the canvas could be reduced the hurricanestruck her abeam. Had she been under her usual sail she would have beensent completely over and have foundered. As it was, she heeled beforethe blast. The next instant two loud crashes came; she rose on an evenkeel, but her masts were gone. The Captain and Stephen summoned allhands to clear away the wreck before the butt-ends of the masts shouldstave in the vessel with the tremendous thumps they were giving againstthe side. Axes were found, shrouds and other ropes which held fast themasts were speedily cut. Still the hapless vessel lay in the trough ofthe sea, the waves dashing against her sides, and threatening to sweepeverything overboard. The great object now was to get a sail rigged onthe stump of the foremast and put her before the wind. When the mastsfell several people had been injured, the Captain among them. At firsthe made light of it. Now that he wished to exert himself more thanever, he was unable to do so. He called for a chair, and sat aft,giving his directions. Stephen had to take everything upon himself.The men obeyed him willingly. While he and the party were workingforward, the sea came rolling up and struck the vessel amidships. Theyheld on for their lives. The sea washed right aft, carrying everythingbefore it. When it had disappeared, Stephen looked for the Captain, whowas nowhere to be seen, nor were any of those who were standing in thatpart of the deck; the helmsman among them was gone. Another hand wassent to the helm, the sail, which had been got ready, hoisted, and thevessel put before the wind. Stephen now found himself in command of the_Surge_, but from her condition he had very little hope of ever arrivingat a port. To go to Jamaica was not to be thought of, as he should bedelivering his companions, and possibly himself, into slavery. Heresolved, therefore, if he could save the _Surge_, to carry her to oneof the New England settlements, where he and his companions would bereceived as friends; indeed, all those who had escaped from Sedgemoorhad probably already arrived there, and would welcome him with openarms. The number of the passengers and crew were, however, sadlyreduced. Of the former, scarcely twenty remained alive, while of thecrew only six were fit for duty--not a single officer, the boatswainhaving succumbed to the fever. Stephen picked out two of the best mento act as mates, though neither of them could take an observation. Whenhe informed the passengers of his intention of steering for New England,as soon as the hurricane should be over, they all willingly undertook toaid him to the utmost. Of late the vessel did not leak as much asbefore; something had apparently got into the opening which preventedthe water entering. This tended to keep up the spirits of thestorm-tossed party. Still they were in a very desperate condition.They could hope to get up only very imperfect jury-masts, and then, evenshould they obtain a favourable wind, they would be a long time inreaching a New England port. With their reduced numbers, and theirprovisions and water, they hoped to hold out, if all hands were at onceput on an allowance. Stephen determined to see to this matter as soonas the gale was over. Still the fever continued among them. One of thecrew and two more of the passengers died the day after the loss of theCaptain. Poor fellows! it seemed a hard thing, in the prospect ofliberty, thus to be summoned away after all they had gone through.Stephen had kept the deck nearly two days without once going below,having his food brought to him. At length, worn out with fatigue, hewas compelled to seek an hour or two's rest in the cabin to enable himto continue his work. How long he had closed his eyes he could nottell, when he felt that the ship hove on her beam ends. He rushed up ondeck, and shouted to the crew. No voices replied. It was very dark,but he made out that the jury-mast had been carried away, and the vessellay in the trough of the sea. He went to the helm. The rudder had beeninjured, if not carried away; scarcely any of the bulwarks remained.The _Surge_ lay a complete wreck amid the wild raging waters. Anothersea had apparently swept the deck and carried away every one within itspower. As he went below to ascertain if any of the crew survived, criesand groans of the terrified passengers met his ears. He had little orno hope to offer them. Going forward, he could not discover one of thecrew. He aroused the passengers, and urged them to turn to at thepumps. They might keep the vessel afloat till the morning, and thenbuild a raft, or perchance a sail might heave in sight and rescue them.Few, however, were able to labour efficiently. It seemed a wonder toStephen that his own strength had been kept up, when he saw stoutfellows, accustomed to wield the scythe and flail, reduced to mereskeletons. The morning came, the _Surge_ still floated, but to build araft seemed beyond the power of those on board. They wanted bothstrength and skill. Stephen urged them to try, however. Collecting allthe spars and planks to be found, he commenced to work, showing them asfar as he was able what to do. The wind had fallen, the sea was goingdown, or they could not possibly have made even the attempt. The ship,too, had risen more on an even keel than before. It seemed verydoubtful whether she would exist much longer above water. The hourswent slowly by. The poor fellows laboured as hard as they could. Firstone dropped, then another, some from fever, others from fatigue. The_Surge_ had been kept afloat during the day. Another night wasapproaching; nothing could be done during it; even seamen could havescarcely worked in the dark. Stephen, as he went below to kneel inprayer, as was his wont, did not expect to see the sun rise again overthe waste of waters.