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CHAP. III. ed, and there is reason to think, that he had little, if any other sustenance, since he left Bridgewater on the evening of the 5th. To repose he had been equally a stranger: how his mind must have been harassed, it is needless to discuss. Yet that in such circumstances he appeared dispirited and crest-fallen, is, by the unrelenting malignity of party writers, imputed to him as cowardice, and meanness of spirit. That the failure of his enterprize, together with the bitter reflection, that he had suffered himself to be engaged in it against his own better judgment, joined to the other calamitous circumstances of his situation, had reduced him to a state of despondency is evident; and in this frame of mind, he wrote on the very day of his capture, the following letter to the King:

"SIR,

"Your Majesty may think it the misfortune I now ❝lie under, makes me make this application to you ; "but I do assure your Majesty, it is the remorse I 46 now have in me of the wrong I have done you in "several things, and now in taking up arms against

you. For my taking up arms, it was never in my "thoughts since the King died: The Prince and "Princess of Orange will be witness for me of the (6 assurance I gave them, that I would never stir against you. But my misfortune was such, as to "meet with some horrid people, that made me be"lieve things of your Majesty, and gave me so many "false arguments, that I was fully led away to be66 lieve, that it was a shame and a sin before God, not "to do it. But, Sir, I will not trouble your Majesty "at present with many things I could say for myself, "that I am sure would move your compassion; the "chief end of this letter being only to beg of you, "that I may have that happiness as to speak to your

Majesty; for I have that to say to you, Sir, that I CHAP. III. hope may give you a long and happy reign.

“I am sure, Sir, when you hear me, you will be “convinced of the zeal I have of your preservation, "and how heartily I repent of what I have done. I 66 can say no more to your Majesty now, being this "letter must be seen by 'those that keep me. There"fore, Sir, I shall make an end, in begging of your "Majesty to believe so well of me, that I would “ rather die a thousand deaths, than excuse any thing "I have done, if I did not really think myself the "most in the wrong that ever a man was; and had "not from the bottom of my heart an abhorrence for "those that put me upon it, and for the action itself. "I hope, Sir, God Almighty will strike your heart "with mercy and compassion for me, as he has done "mine with abhorrence of what I have done: "Wherefore, Sir, I hope I may live to shew you how ❝ zealous I shall ever be for your service; and could “I but say one word in this letter, you would be con"vinced of it; but it is of that consequence, that I “dare not do it. Therefore, Sir, I do beg of you 66 once more to let me speak to you; for then you will be convinced how much I shall ever be,

"Your Majesty's most humble and dutiful,

"MONMOUTH,"

The only certain conclusion to be drawn from this letter, which Mr. Echard, in a manner perhaps not so seemly for a churchman, terms submissive,* is, that Monmouth still wished anxiously for life, and was willing to save it, even at the cruel price of begging and receiving it as a boon from his enemy. Ralph

* Echard, p. 771. “His former spirit sunk into pusillanimity, "and he meanly endeavoured, by the following submissive let, "ter," &c. E.

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CHAP. III. conjectures with great probability, that this unhappy man's feelings were all governed by his excessive affection for his mistress; and that a vain hope of enjoying, with Lady Harriet Wentworth, that retirement which he had so unwillingly abandoned, induced him to adopt a conduct, which he might otherwise have considered as indecent. At any rate it must be admitted, that to cling to life, is a strong instinct in human nature, and Monmouth might reasonably enough satisfy himself, that when his death could not by any possibility, benefit either the public or his friends, to follow such instinct, even in a manner that might tarnish the splendor of heroism, was no impeachment of the moral virtue of a man.

A mysteri

With respect to the mysterious part of the letter, ous expres- where he speaks of one word, which would be of such

sion in his

letter.

Not appli

cable to the Prince of Orange.

infinite importance, it is difficult, if not rather utterly impossible, to explain it by any rational conjecture. Mr. Macpherson's favourite hypothesis, that the Prince of Orange had been a party to the late attempt, and that Monmouth's intention, when he wrote the letter, was to disclose this important fact to the King,* is totally destroyed by those expressions, in which the unfortunate prisoner tells his Majesty he had assured the Prince and Princess of Orange that he would never stir against him. Did he assure the Prince of Orange that he would never do that which he was engaged to the Prince of Orange to do? Can it be said that this was a false fact, and that no such assurances were in truth given? To what purpose was the falsehood? In order to conceal, from motives whether honourable or otherwise, his connection with the Prince? What? a fiction in one paragraph of the letter in order to conceal a fact, which in the next he

* Macpherson's History.

declares his intention of revealing? The thing is im- CHAP. III. possible.*

The intriguing character of the secretary of state, the Earl of Sunderland, whose duplicity in many instances cannot be doubted, and the mystery in which almost every thing relating to him is involved, might lead us 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. Such a conjuncture 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 authorized 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 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 if this complete refutation were wanting, the whole sytem of conduct imputed to the Prince of Orange by the above mentioned author, by which he is made to act in concert with Monmouth at this time, is só contrary to common sense, that the hypothesis never could have been offered to the belief of mankind by one whose mind was not fortified by some previous experience of their unbounded credulity.

† Macpherson's State Papers, I. 146.

A a

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CHAP. HI. 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 insurmountable. 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 self-interested suggestions, had deterred him from the only probable means of saving his life.

planation

A third ex- 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.