No wonder you meet with so many shrew'd blots, 60 How shall we wak't, with Cravats or with Swords? Alass no, I see but small hope. It's in vain, it's in vain, to spend many words, We must rouz't by a Sledge and a Rope. 64 9. Then mount, Mr. Stayley,2 for it's to be fear'd, By what you but lately have said, That your Roman Conscience will still be much sear'd, 68 And rise Monsieur Coleman, Jack Ketch is your Debtor, He'l cure you of a hard Heart, Truly I fancy you will be much better Before you do come from his Cart. 72 10. You are Sick I am told, ev'n Sick unto Death, A Hempen Cravat to stop up your Breath, Will give you abundance of Ease. 76 And good Mr. Ink-horn prepare for the same, Squire Ketch now shall give you your Fee; He is known to be a Splitter of Fame, And you were best with him to Agree. 80 11. Thus you Jesuits, Priests, and Gentlemen, all Jack has ready, if into his hands you do fall, 84 And if Holy Father himself he were here, His Receipt of the Noose should suit the Popes ear, FINIS. LONDON, Printed for H[enry] B[rome], in the Year 1678. [In White-letter.] 88 1 An allusion, doubtless, to the murder of Sir E. Godfrey, the magistrate who took Oates's first deposition. See our previous pages 668, 671, and notes. The death was reported to have been from strangulation with a cravat. 2 William Stayley, goldsmith, was on 21 Nov. 1678, tried and condemned for treasonable words. He was executed on the 26th, a week before Coleman. Dangerfield's Dance. "Then Dugdale was a Saint, till he the Cause forsook; And Dangerfield did rant, in person of a Duke. With Cummins too, a Perjur'd Crew, came swearing o're the Main, 180 Loyal Songs: 1685. IN the following verses we come to as bitter and unscrupulous a note of triumph as sounded in the previous ballad, but now belonging to the reaction. The perjuries of the Popish-Plot Discoverers no longer sufficed to influence such packed juries as had given their verdict of guilty against so many innocent men. Vengeance was beginning to claim blood for blood. The Plotmania, like the French Revolution of little more than a century later, was, "like Saturn, devouring its children." "Captain" Dangerfield had come before the public in October, 1679, as a principal witness in what is called "The Meal-Tub Plot." It was said to have been concocted by the Countess of Powys, Mother Cellier, a Popish midwife, the Earl of Castlemaine (Roger Palmer, husband of the Court-favourite, Barbara Palmer, née Villiers, Duchess of Cleveland), and five Roman Catholic peers, already confined in the Tower. Dangerfield told the Duke of York that a Protestant plot existed, and contrived to have certain papers found, after having himself hidden them. But his clumsy contrivance being detected, and Sir William Waller finding a fairly-written model of the supposed plot hidden within a meal-tub, when he searched Mrs. Cellier's house, Dangerfield saw himself to be in danger. He now offered to tell everything, and gave evidence against the persons who had, he said, employed him. The Earl of Castlemaine, Lady Powys, John Gadbury, and Mrs. Cellier were accordingly arrested. In June, 1680, they were brought to trial. The grand jury threw out the bill against the Countess, while both Castlemaine and Cellier were acquitted. Evidently, Dangerfield's attempts to establish his credit were doomed to failure. The world was already weary of Oates, and of Bedloe (who was then near his death, which took place at Bristol on the 20th of August). It required no fresh ruffian of the same sort. There had been too many already. 1 We attach no weight to anything that Gilbert Burnet declares. Falsehood and self-conceit were victuals and drink to him. Yet even he has no fellow Informing of late 's a notable trade: For he that his neighbour intends to invade, Be good, and be just, and fight for your King, Retribution fell on Dangerfield in 1685, soon after James II. came to the throne. Not only had there been the avowedly-false evidence, self-contradictory, in regard to the "Meal-Tub Plot " of 1679, but Dangerfield had published "A Narrative of all the secret practices used, as well to corrupt him as to render the plot probable." This was now adjudged to be a scandalous libel, and he was committed for trial. He was found guilty, and condemned, at the King's Bench bar, "That he should stand twice in the pillory; that he should be whipt from Aldgate to Newgate on one day, and from Newgate to Tyburn on another: and should pay a fine of five hundred pounds." These punishments are represented in the contemporary woodcuts, at the top of the broadside which we now copy. It caused the death of Dangerfield, although indirectly. The whipping was vigorously administered, but not so severely as had been given to Oates (with full intention of "finishing him," no doubt), a few days earlier. But on the second day, after the whipping was over, Dangerfield was taunted by one Robert Francis, a barrister of Gray's Inn. This was in Hatton Garden. According to Echard, Francis mockingly asked him, "How now, friend, have you had your heat this morning?' Upon which the other, with two or three curses, called him, 'Son of a Whore.'" Francis, making no allowance for the state of the man's cuticle and epidermis, influencing his temper or language (never habitually good, we may feel sure), struck him with a cane, and so wounded him in the eye as to cause death in two hours. Francis was tried for the crime, found guilty, and hanged. Attempts were made to obtain remission of the sentence, but without success. Even-handed Justice went thus far, in vindicating "the majesty of the Law." feeling with Dangerfield, but writes that "He was a subtle and dexterous man, who had gone through all the shapes and practices of roguery, and, in particular, was a false coyner. He was in jayl for debt, and was in an ill intrigue with one Cellier, a Popish midwife, who had a great share of wit, and was abandoned to lewdness."-Memorials, p. 475. A Song upon Information (180 Loyal Songs, 1685). [Bagford Collection, III. 51.] Dangerfield's Dance. Giving an Account of several Notorious Crimes by him Committed; Viz. He pretended to be a Duke, And feigned Himself to be MONMOUTH with several other PRANKS: For which he was Sentenced to Stand in the Pillory, to be Whip'd at the Carts Arse, and to be sent back to Prison. This may be Printed, July 2, 1685. R. L. S[trange]. Entred according to Order. [T is no Wonder in this Crittick Age, Stage, And shameful Punishment on them attend, Who on their Shamming Wits so much depend; 4 8 12 16 20 Thy great Ambition all Men do Rebuke, 1 24 27 He had cheated, under the name of Monmouth. See p. 703; "The Plot rent and torn." |