Plaidy, Jean - Royal Sisters - The Story of the Daughters of James II

“This has decided the issue,” was the comment. “James will never come back now.”

Young, who feared that, since the paper Blackhead had deposited in the Bishop’s house would never be discovered and therefore the plot founder, sent Blackhead back to the house in Bromley to recover the paper.

Blackhead this time went as an emissary of the government and forced the astonished servants to allow him to search the house. He went straight to the disused parlor and there found the paper where he had put it. He carried it back to Young, who immediately sent Blackhead with it to the Secretary of State.

Meanwhile the Bishop of Rochester had been questioned; so had his servants; and he certainly had the air of an innocent man.

Blackhead had brought the document to them so it was decided to bring both the Bishop and Blackhead before the Council and question them together.

This was more than Blackhead had bargained for, and he was terrified when he was brought into the great chamber and saw the lords seated around the table. He was even more alarmed when the Bishop was brought in.

“This fellow came to me with a letter from his Deacon,” cried the Bishop.

“So you are a servant of a Deacon. His name please?” Blackhead could not remember. “Er … sir … he was a very good master …”

“His name?”

Blackhead bit his lips. For the life of him he could not think of a name. Young had not prepared him for this.

“The fellow’s scared out of his wits,” said one of the men at the table. “Give him time to think.”

Blackhead thought hard and he mentioned a name and a town he knew. This was written down. He breathed more easily.

The Bishop said: “There is no such Deacon. There is no such living.”

“Well, you had better tell the truth.” Blackhead’s knees were shaking.

“It were no fault of mine,” he said. “Then whose fault was it?”

“Well ’twere Robert Young. He said as how it would be easy like. These men had plotted against the King and Queen and ’twere the only way to bring ’em to justice.”

“Why did you take this false letter to the Bishop?”

“So as I could put the paper there.”

“So you put the paper in the flowerpot did you?”

It was no good. He couldn’t think of any story to tell them, so had to tell them the truth.

Young was brought before the Council.

“Do you know this man Stephen Blackhead?” he was asked. “Yes, my lord. He was in prison with me. I was wrongly accused …”

“And you used him in this plot, to incriminate the Bishop, my Lord Marlborough, and others?”

“My lord, I have never spoken of the matter to this fellow.”

“Yet he seems to have a good knowledge of the plot which you promised to disclose.”

“It is all simply explained, my lord. The Bishop has bribed Blackhead to tell this preposterous story.”

“Yet you informed us that this letter was in a flowerpot in the Bishop’s house?”

“That is not so, my lord. It is part of the plot against me.”

Young defended himself fluently and with an aplomb which suggested innocence; but his story lacked authenticity. He had in fact warned the Council to search the flowerpots; moreover, he had a criminal record.

When the results of the examination were brought before the Queen she said that Young was a rogue and that the plot against the Bishop had clearly been fabricated by him.

She still believed the men implicated to have Jacobite leanings, but they could not be found guilty in this case.

“Send Young and Blackhead back to Newgate,” she commanded, “there to await their trial. As for Marlborough …”

She looked at the members of her Council. She would have liked to keep Marlborough a prisoner; but that would be unjust. He had been sent to the Tower for being implicated in this plot and the plot was proved to be a sham, fabricated by a villain with a criminal record.

Marlborough must be released.

“On bail,” was the verdict. Marlborough was not entirely free from guilt, they were sure.

Thus Marlborough was released from the Tower, but suspicion of guilt clung to him and he could not call himself a free man.

Even as the bells were ringing for the victory of La Hogue came the news of the defeat of William’s army at Namur.

Mary was astounded.

“Such a sudden change,” she cried to Lady Derby, “is more than I can bear.”

She had been planning great celebrations, for it had not occurred to her that William could be defeated; it seemed ironical that he should have failed, and the fleet which was operating under her jurisdiction should have been victorious. She would, in her heart, have preferred it to be the other way about, just for William’s satisfaction; but of course that was folly. The victory of La Hogue was of far greater consequence than the defeat at Namur. That sea victory might well have made a future invasion impossible.

“But,” she insisted, “I am quite stupefied.”

There was more bad news to follow. Turning from Namur where he had failed to break the siege William was defeated at Steinkirk, but fortunately inflicted such losses on the enemy that it was impossible for them to take full advantage of the victory.

Moreover, there was news of a plot to assassinate William which had been miraculously discovered in time. A French officer named Grandval was caught by the English and executed; but before he died disclosed that James II and his wife had been involved in the scheme.

When Mary heard this, although horrified at the danger through which William had passed, she could not help feeling a kind of exultation. Her father was guilty of such a thing! It seemed as though there was a balance of their sins—hers against her father, his against her.

A little of the guilt which had oppressed her so often was lifted. She talked often of the Grandval affair with those about her, stressing the part her father had played in it.

“When I heard that he whom I dare no more name father was consenting to the barbarous murder of my husband, I was ashamed to look anyone in the face,” she declared.

William came home from Holland, not this time a conqueror, planning to return again after a time.

Robert Young faced a trial for perjury and Blackhead promised to turn King’s evidence. Having been granted freedom because of this, he promptly disappeared which meant a delay of the trial.

Eventually Young was found guilty of conspiracy and perjury; the plot was proved to be one fabricated entirely by himself, and the people whose signatures he had forged were clearly innocent.

Young was sentenced to imprisonment and to be set in the pillory where he suffered greatly from the attentions of the mob before he was returned to Newgate.

Marlborough still remained on bail and neither the King nor Queen were eager to grant him his freedom. But Marlborough had no intention of submitting to such treatment and had his case brought before the Lords, declaring that it was an infringement of privilege to retain bail after the charges against him had been dropped.

William presiding, was very loth to allow Marlborough to escape. He wanted to keep a close watch on the man, for he was well aware that he was corresponding with James and that although he was guiltless of implication in the flowerpot intrigue, he was nevertheless as much a traitor to the present regime as Young had implied.