Assassination: The Royal Family's 1000-Year Curse (35 page)

It was at about this time that James found a new mistress, one of his wife’s ladies-in-waiting, Arabella Churchill. She would give birth to four of James’s illegitimate children, all called ‘Fitzjames’ – from
fiz
, Norman for ‘the son of’, used in England for the surnames of illegitimate children of kings and princes (most of the King’s bastards were called ‘Fitzroy’). Arabella was the daughter of Sir Winston Churchill, an impoverished cavalry officer in Charles I’s defeated Royalist Army who had been heavily fined during the Commonwealth. Churchill was rewarded on the Restoration with a seat in Parliament, a place at court for Arabella and a post for her brother John, who became a page in James’s household. Arabella’s grandfather, John Churchill, had married Sara Winston. Wishing to perpetuate her family name, rather than adopting a doublebarrelled surname, they used ‘Winston’ as a first name for their son; so ‘Winston’ was converted into a forename and became a

In time, young John Churchill joined the army, James’s influence assuring him of a favourable position. Churchill’s rise would be meteoric. A hero in just about every action in which he took part, he climbed to ever higher rank and greater wealth, spurred on by his naked ambition and later aided by the grasping aspirations of his wife.

James’s responsibility was the navy. He had been appointed Lord High Admiral, and in the 1665 war against the Dutch, James commanded the fleet. The navies met at the Battle of Lowestoft, sailing in line past each other, guns ablaze. Then both fleets turned and sailed past one another in line once more. Next, James decided to seek out and attack the ship of the Admiral of the Dutch fleet. He found it, and the two vessels exchanged broadsides.

During the attack, James was standing on the deck of the Royal Charles accompanied by several senior officers. Seeing them all standing together on the English flagship, the Dutch let fly with chain shot. It was a recent invention in which two cannonballs were linked by a short chain, so that when fired they spun, forming a massive projectile, and it proved to be hugely effective for bringing down masts and massacring sailors. The English officers stood transfixed as the spinning weapon hurtled towards them. It struck the group, all in their finest naval uniforms. Several of them were decapitated. The chain shot also took off half of the Earl of Falmouth’s head; it was unkindly said that it was the first proof ever provided that he had any brains – it was also the last.

James was covered in the blood of his colleagues. However, he had been lucky, he was one of the few not to be harmed. Anotherattempttokillhimhadfailed.EvenluckierforJames, a random English shot hit the magazine of the Dutch flagship, and it blew up. This was the opportunity to seize a decisive victory. James gave the order to pursue the Dutch fleet, and then he went below for a sleep. While he slept, the order was mistakenly countermanded, and the Dutch escaped. After the disaster when the Dutch sailed up the Medway humiliating the English Navy, peace was agreed.

Once more at court, James secretly converted to Catholicism, his wife having converted some time before. Then Charles’s Declaration of Indulgence led to the Test Act, and James was compelled to resign his naval office, so announcing his conversion. James suffered another blow in 1671, when Anne died, leaving him with two daughters, Mary and Anne, six other children having died in infancy. Two years later a new wife was found for James; the Catholic Princess Mary of Modena.

Having weathered the anti-Catholic hysteria resulting from Oates’s lies, the efforts to bar James from the succession and the failed attempt to murder him in the Rye House Plot, James recovered his status in the last years of his brother’s reign. The Test Act was ignored and James was restored to the Council, assisting Charles in ruling the country.

Yet despite the fears of James’s Catholicism, when Charles died, James was readily accepted as king. Many people looked forward to a disciplined, hard-working man instead of the duplicitous, lazy Charles. The only drawbacks with James were his desire to impose Catholicism, and belief in his divine right to absolute power.

Titus Oates was dealt with straight away. He was convicted of perjury and sentenced by Judge Jeffries. After two days in a pillory, he was stripped, tied to a cart and whipped as he was dragged a mile from Aldgate to Newgate. Then he was imprisoned for life.

More importantly, in Amsterdam the Duke of Monmouth (the Protestant son of the last king, but illegitimate) was preparing to make his move. He would land in the Protestant south-west and at the same time the Duke of Argyll (with the former owner of the Rye House, Richard Rumbold, as his second-in-command) would raise his Campbell clan and the Covenanters in Scotland. Argyll failed, and many of his supporters were branded and sent to the West Indies as slaves. Both Argyll and Rumbold were executed, and part of the former Leveller’s speech from the scaffold would be much-quoted when the American Constitution was being framed: “… none comes into the world with a saddle on his back, neither any booted and spurred to ride him…”

There was initial success for Monmouth in south-west England, where he was proclaimed king. But he had struck too early; hatred of James II had not yet had time to develop. James’s army, led by the Earl of Feversham, defeated Monmouth’s forces at the Battle of Sedgemoor. Feversham’s second-incommand was John Churchill (now Baron Churchill).

Monmouth was later captured and condemned to death. The public executioner, Jack Ketch, completely botched the beheading. Five strikes of the axe were not enough to sever Monmouth’s head, and Ketch had to finish the job with a knife. His reward is that the hangman in Punch and Judy shows is named Jack Ketch. It is said that after the execution, it was discovered that there was no official portrait of Monmouth (he was, after all, the son of a king). So his head was sewn back on, and Monmouth sat motionless while his portrait was painted, and then he was buried.

Victory was not enough for James. Monmouth’s soldiers were relentlessly pursued, and those who were caught were killed. Next, James decided to teach the people a lesson. Three hundred Monmouth supporters were hanged, drawn and quartered following the Bloody Assizes, supervised by Judge Jeffries – the Hanging Judge. Dozens more were whipped to death, and a thousand were transported as slaves to the West Indies. Some who had money were merely fined, including Daniel Defoe who would later write
Robinson Crusoe
. The country was subdued, parts of the quartered men displayed in just about every town and village in south-west England.

James now appointed Catholics to senior posts in the army and theCouncil.ThiswasatatimewhenafloodofHuguenot(French Protestant) refugees was arriving in England. They brought stories of their persecution following King Louis’ revocation of the Edict of Nantes, which had granted rights to Protestants and guaranteed their safety in specified towns. Hundreds of Protestants were killed, and over 400,000 left France. This filled English Protestants with fear of what James might do.

Full of confidence, James demanded funds from Parliament to strengthen the army, an army commanded largely by Catholic officers. The refugees had told of how Louis had used the army to force Huguenots to convert to Catholicism. Many politicians voiced their unease at the prospect of an enlarged army in James’s hands, so he dissolved Parliament.

James then gathered his forces outside London, where Catholic officers made a point of publicly celebrating Mass. Next a commission was given the power to suspend or discharge Protestant clergymen. Protestants could almost feel the noose tightening. The expectation was that the Jesuits (a Catholic anti-Protestant order with a military-style organisation) would soon take control.

For some time, fear of another civil war and the power of James’s army kept the population’s discontent peaceful. Probably the Protestants were biding their time. James was now 54 years old; of the 13 English kings since Edward III, only one (James I) had reached his 56th birthday, and even he died at 58. James’s heir was his Protestant daughter Mary, and she was married to the hero of Protestantism, William of Orange. Surely there would soon be a Protestant monarch to undo all that James had done.

It was a solution for the Protestants, but for the Catholics it was a problem. They wanted a law enacted that would provide for the succession to bypass James’s daughters, Mary and Anne, and his nephew William. James’s niece, Marie Louise (daughter of the Catholic Minette), was next in line. That would not have been a good solution because she was already Queen Consort of Spain. Anyway, the proposal made no progress because James was against it; just as Charles would not exclude his brother, so James would not exclude his daughters – it was contrary to the divine plan.

Besides, James had a better idea. He had a young wife, so he was going to pray for the birth of a son who would lawfully take precedence over older sisters, and that son would be brought up as a Catholic. It worked; a few weeks later the Queen became pregnant, and James was certain it would be a boy. Not just a boy, but a strong healthy boy; this despite the fact that Queen Mary had so far had two miscarriages, three children who died before the age of one, and one who died aged four.

James now ordered that in all churches the terms of his Declaration of Indulgence should be read from the pulpit on four successive Sundays, thereby announcing the return of Catholicism. Seven bishops refused, so they were sent to the Tower.

Then, several weeks earlier than expected, the Queen gave birth to a healthy boy. It seemed too convenient. People were suspicious. Had the Queen really given birth? If so, had it been a girl, swapped with someone else’s baby boy? James ordered an enquiry, which proved nothing. Rumours spread, and the public mood was not helped when James asked the Pope to be the baby’s godfather.

With a Catholic male heir, James felt stronger than ever. He ordered the seven bishops in the Tower to be tried for treason. To widespread public celebration, they were acquitted. James had misjudged the situation, his new son had not made his position stronger, it had made it weaker because Protestant complacency towards an ageing Catholic king with a Protestant heir had been replaced by horror at the prospect of a line of Catholic monarchs. Who was the alternative? After James’s new-born son, the first in line was James’s Protestant daughter Mary; the first male in line was James’s Protestant nephew William of Orange – and he was married to Mary.

Protestant refugees who reached the Netherlands told William of the disaffection in England and the longing for a Protestant monarch. William was encouraged when he was sent promises of support by prominent Englishmen, including Danby and Lord Churchill (still smarting at being only second-in-command at the Battle of Sedgemoor). Then, William received a letter signed by Danby, the Bishop of London and others inviting him to invade.

As William gathered his troops, James did nothing in the belief that William was preparing for war against France. When James finally realised that England was the target, he panicked. He started to undo some of his work, dismissing Catholic office-holders and replacing them with Protestants. It was too late.

James prepared his forces, but he had to spread them across the south and east of the country as he did not know where William would land. On 19th October 1688, the invasion fleet left the Netherlands. Of the 20,000 troops, 4,000 were English and Scottish soldiers who had been stationed in the Netherlands and had refused to return.

The weather was against William, and a storm sent the fleet back to port. James, with his naval background, was sure that William would not try again until winter was over. He did not know his son-in-law/nephew well enough. On 1st November, the fleet set out once more. They sailed along the Channel, landed at Brixham in south-west England, and then moved on to Exeter without meeting any resistance. The people in the south-west remembered the horrors of the Bloody Assizes only too vividly, and they hastened to support William.

James’s forces marched to confront the invaders. William held his position; James’s army was larger. Then, both sides moved forward, with William leading his army to Axminster and James’s army (again commanded by Feversham) advancing to Salisbury. They were only 50 miles apart. Several towns declared for William, and then James’s friend, the second-incommand of his army, Lord Churchill, went over to William, taking many officers and most of the cavalry with him. The entire navy followed.

Not knowing what to do, James scuttled back to London. He discovered that his daughter Anne and her close friend Sarah, Lord Churchill’s wife, had left to join William. It was all falling apart. After vacillating for two weeks, James decided to flee, the Queen and her son having already been sent to France.

Travelling at speed through country lanes, James reached the coast. A vessel was waiting to take him across the Channel. He boarded and they set sail, but immediately ran aground. It did not take long for three boats to come alongside. Those on board were searching for fugitives, seeking reward for their capture; dead or alive. They were not sure whether James was a fugitive, and they definitely did not know who he was; so they took him to the coastal town of Faversham. There he was recognised, and he was returned to London.

With William’s forces still far to the west, James carried on as king, living in Whitehall Palace and holding audiences. It was an unreal situation. Then a contingent of Dutch troops arrived to watch over James, and he was told that he should leave London for his own safety and go to Ham. He asked to go to Rochester on the northern Kent coast instead, making his intentions obvious. That suited William, who had been angered when James’s first attempt to flee had been foiled. In Rochester, James was lightly guarded. There was no desire to keep him in England, far less to put him on trial or execute him; he was, of course, William’s uncle and his wife’s father. James was allowed to escape to the river, where a ship was waiting to take him to France.