to suspect that the expressions point at some discovery in which that nobleman was concerned; and that Monmouth had it in his power to be of important service to James, by revealing to him the treachery of his minister. Sucha conjecture might be strengthened by an anecdote that has had some currency, and to the truth of which in part, King James's memoirs, if the extracts from them can be relied on, bear testimony. It is said that the Duke of Monmouth told Mr. Ralph Sheldon, one of the King's chamber who came to meet him on his way to London, that he had had reason to expect Sunderland's co-operation, and authorised Sheldon to mention this to the King: that while Sheldon was relating this to his Majesty, Sunderland entered, Sheldon hesitated, but was ordered to go on. "Sunderland seemed at first struck," (as well he might whether innocent or guilty,) "but after a “short time, said with a laugh, if that be all he, (Monmouth,) can discover to save his life, it will do him little 66 good."* It is to be remarked that in Sheldon's conversation, as alluded to by King James, the Prince of Orange's name is not even mentioned, either as connected with Monmouth or with Sunderland. But on the other hand, the difficulties that stand in the way of our interpreting Monmouth's letter as alluding to Sunderland, or of supposing that the writer of it had any well founded accusation against that minister, are in *Macpherson's State Papers, I. 146. III. 1685. III. 1695. . CHAPTER surmountable. If he had such an accusation to make, why did he not make it? The King says expressly, both in a letter to the Prince of Orange, and in the extract from his memoirs, above cited, that Monmouth made no discovery of consequence, and the explanation suggested, that his silence was owing to Sunderland the secretary's having assured him of his pardon, seems wholly inadmissible. Such assurances could have their influence no longer than while the hope of pardon remained. Why then did he continue silent, when he found James inexorable? If he was willing to accuse the Earl before he had received these assurances, it is inconceivable that he should have any scruple about doing it when they turned out to have been delusive, and when his mind must have been exasperated by the reflection that Sunderland's perfidious promises and selfinterested suggestions, had deterred him from the only probable means of saving his life. A third explanation. A third, and perhaps the most plausible, interpretation of the words in question is, that they point to a discovery of Monmouth's friends in England, when, in the dejected state of his mind, at the time of writing, unmanned as he was by misfortune, he might sincerely promise what the return of better thoughts forbade him to perform. This account, however, though free from the great absurdities belonging to the two others, is by no means satisfactory. The phrase, "one word," seems to relate rather to some single person, or some single fact, and can hardly apply to any list of associates that might be intended to be sacrificed. On the other hand, the single denunciation of Lord Delamere,of Lord Brandon, or even of the Earl of Devonshire, or of any other private individual, could not be considered as of that extreme consequence, which Monmouth attaches to his promised disclosure. I have mentioned Lord Devonshire, who was certainly not implicated in the enterprize, and who was not even suspected, because it appears from Grey's Narrative, that one of Monmouth's agents had once given hopes of his support; and therefore there is a bare possibility that Monmouth may have reckoned upon his assistance. Perhaps, after all, the letter has been canvassed with too much nicety, and the words of it weighed more scrupulously, than, proper allowance being made for the situation and state of mind of the writer, they ought to have been. They may have been thrown out at hazard, merely as means to obtain an interview, of which the unhappy prisoner thought he might, in some way or other, make his advantage. If any more precise meaning existed in his mind, we must be content to pass it over as one of those obscure points of history, upon which, neither the sagacity of historians, nor the many documents since made publick, nor the great discoverer, Time, has yet thrown any distinct light. CHAPTER 1685. not satisfactory. CHAPTER 111. 1685. Unfeeling disposition of James. Monmouth and Grey were now to be conveyed to London, for which purpose they set out on the 11th, and arrived in the vicinity of the metropolis on the 13th of July. In the mean while, the Queen Dowager, who seems to have behaved with a uniformity of kindness towards her husband's son that does her great honour, urgently pressed the King to admit his nephew to an audience. Importuned therefore by intreaties, and instigated by the curiosity which Monmouth's mysterious expressions, and Sheldon's story had excited, he consented, though with a fixed determination to show no mercy. James was not of the number of those, in whom the want of an extensive understanding is compensated by a delicacy of sentiment, or by those right feelings which are often found to be better guides for the conduct, than the most accurate reasoning. His nature did not revolt, his blood did not run cold, at the thoughts of beholding the son of a brother whom he had loved, embracing his knees, petitioning, and petitioning in vain, for life; of interchanging words and looks with a nephew on whom he was inexorably determined, within fortyeight short hours, to inflict an ignominious death. In Macpherson's extract from King James's Memoirs, it is confessed that the King ought not to have seen, if he was not disposed to pardon the culprit ; but whe * Macpherson's State Papers, I. 144. ther the observation is made by the exiled Prince him- CHAPTER III. 1085. with Mon July 13th. Pursuant to this hard-hearted arrangeinent, Mon- His interview mouth and Grey, on the very day of their arrival, were mouth. brought to Whitehall, where they had severally interviews with his Majesty. James, in a letter to the Prince of Orange, dated the following day, gives a short account of both these interviews. Monmouth, he says, betrayed a weakness, which did not become one who had claimed the title of King; but made no discovery of consequence. Grey was more ingenuous, * (it is not certain in what sense his Majesty uses the term, since he does not refer to any discovery made by that Lord,) and never once begged his life. Short as this account is, it seems the only authentick one of those interviews. Bishop Kennet, who has been followed by most of the modern historians, relates that "This un Dalrymple's Memoirs, II. 134. |