FAMOUS ESCAPES OF HISTORY.

Auckland Star, Volume LIV, Issue 299, 15 December 1923, Page 19

FAMOUS ESCAPES OF HISTORY.

(B/ V. METHLET.)

THE ESCAPE OF LORD NITHSDALE FROM THE TOWER OT LONDON. In the eanr rarrninr of a bitterly cold Frtrnarr day. Larty Nlrhsdale. mistress of the great house of Torrec'.aj. in Dumfriesihlre. stole out, hooded and veiled, upon a eecret errand.

6he carried an oafepn tinx. containing papers and family rfrnrdp. find this box she bnried in the garden before mounting the torse wbirh a groom Jr!d for "nor at a side door. The rouDtrysi'le wa.< deep in snowdrifts, bound by an iron frost, that winter «f 1716: no co&cVs could run and so this fcnve girl—for she was scarcely flvp-and-twenty—set out to rMe from Scotland to London, through a disturbed and dangerous district.

But neither weather nor possible peril Blattered one straw to Lady Nithsdale. The news bad Just reached Torre-las that her fcnsband was condemned to death for his •hire in the ill-fated Jacobite Rebellion of '18, and, with all her strong will and stronger lore, she had resolved to save him —hopeless a; the attempt would have teemed to anyone less brave than my Lady Nitbsflale.

Italned as she was, she went straight to the bone* of her greatest friend, a certain Mrs. Morgan, who accompanied her immediately to St. James' Palace, to seek an tndienee with the King himself.

Clasping In her cold, trembling hands a petition for her husband's life. Lady Nithsdale waited for hours, concealed behind lone cartains in a long corridor, which it was known that George I. must pass through on his way to a drawing room.

When, at last, the King appeared Lacjy Nithsdale flung herself at his feet. and. »peaking in French, implored pardon for her husband. King George, flushed and stubborn, tried to break away, but the ?irl dung to hia coat so tightly that she was dragged on her knees from the middle of the corridor to the door of the drawing room. Two gentlemen-in-waiting there tore her away, whilst she made ineffectual •ttempU to thrust her petition into the King's pocket, and finally fainted.

Mrs. Morgan carried her in a sedan chair to the rooms of a certain Mrs. Mills in Drnrj Lane, but as soon as Lady Nithsdale recovered she resolved upon further and more desperate action. All hope of pardon was gone: there now only remained the forlorn chance of escape.

The brave woman went straight to the Tower, and obtained an interview with her husband, who was imprisoned in that gloomy part of the great fortress known as the Governor's House, adjoining the Council Chamber.

She stayed only for a few minutes with I Lord Xithsdale—just long enough to give him a brief outline of her plan. But before leaving the Tower she asked for an interview with, the Governor and obtained the privilege. An eye-witness has described Lady Nithsdale to ns as she appeared at this time. "Her hair is bright brown, slightly powdered." says Lord de Kos. "She has large, soft eyes, regular features and a fair complexion. Her soft expression and delicate appearance give little indication of the courage and strength which she displayed." It is a charming picture enough: no wonder the Governor of the Tower found it impossible to refuse her request, that she mieht b« allowed to return that evening, bringing a friend, that they might both bid farewell to her hnsband-her husband, who was to die next morning at daybreak The Governor consented, and Lady Nithsdale sped back to her lodgings in Drury Lane. Here she summoned Mrs. Morgan and the landlady of the rooms (Mrs. Hills). Eagerly, vehemently, she told them her plan, and persuaded them to go with her to the Tower, carrying them away by her own enthusiasm, so that both women consented, without thinking of the consequences. Mrs. Morgan was slim; Mrs. Mills was large ana stout, so that the former was able to wear one of the landlady's gowns over her own dress, and, having made these preparations, the three women set out. Lady Mthsdale was only allowed to take one friend at a time into her husbands cell, bo Mrs. Hills was left in the guardroom at the foot of the staircase, whilst the two others went up. The gaoler left them alone with the condemned man and hl3 wife hastily dressed him in the extra garments which Mrs. Morgan was wearing. Then Lady Nithedale asked Mrs. Morgan to go down and bring in "her faithful maid, lire. ETan3,"' and she herself went partly down the stairs to meet her. Mrs. Mills came up, sobbing, and with a handkerchief pressed to her eyes and covering her face, "as was bat natural," so says an old record, "for a person going to Uke leave of a friend before his execution."

Once Mrs. Mills, alias Evans, was safely within the cell, Lady Nithsdale set swiftly to wort. She had brought with her paint, rouge and a wig o£ the same colour as Sirs. Hills' hair. Armed with these appliances for "make-up," she proceeded to disguise her husband to look as much like Mrs. Mills as possible—a task rendered difficult by the fact that Mrs. Mills had sandy eyebrows, whilst my lord's were dark and thick.

It mi also necessary to rouge his cheeks and chin rery thickly, to hide the beard, which he had no time to shave.

Mrs. Mills was now attired In a different hood and ehawL and no longer concealed her face. She and Lady Nithsdale went down together to the guardroom, which was crowded with people, mostly members of the families of the warders. As they passed through. Lady Nithsdale eaid, loudly : "Dear Mrs. Catherine, go quickly and send my waiting-maid; she cannot know how late it is. I am to present my petition to-night, and if I let slip this opportunity I shall be on thorns until she comes !"

Lady Nlthsdale showed such terrible distress and agitation that the guards and their relations drew away and turned their baefcs In clumsy sympathy. They were all sorry for the pretty girl who was so broken down by grief—and who. moreover, had been so very generous in her gifts of money to the warders.

Mrs. Mills went out, and Lady Nithsdale hastened back to the cell, coming out again in a few minutes with her disguised husband, who pressed his handkerchief to his face and sobbed convulsively, just as Mrs. Mills had dnne upon her first entry.

It was dusk. and. onc<" again. the sympathetic guards di.i not look too closely at the grief-distracted women, as they passed quickly down the stairs. Lady Nithsdale meanwhile adjuring her companion in broken arcenrs of aicony.

-My dear Mrs. rVtty. for tliP lovp of God run on qnlckly and t>rins bT with you—you know ay lodsin? — UU '. heavens, I am almost distracted with thia disappointment :'■ The shards hast* , nedjo open the for "Mr?. Betty," for whom Mrs. Mills and her b'jpband were now waiting outside. They took charge of Lord Nitbsdaie fnd '■arrie'i him away to the house of some friends. Meanwhile Lady Nithsdale. returned to the now empty rell. still feigning the greateat distress. Every minute of time gained

was of inestimable value, so the braTe woman walked up and down the cell, talking very londly, as though Lord Nithsdale were still there, and answering herself in h«r lord's voice.

When she thought that they had had time to reach a place of safety she halfopened the cell door and, standing so as to hide the interior, loudly bade her husband farewell, saying that she hoped to return that night or early next morning with news of a pardon.

Then, before shutting the door, she pulled | through the string of the latch, so that It ' could only be opened from inside, and slam- j nied it behind her. ! Passing down the stairs, she told the gaoler, with amazing presence of mind and ' calmness, that he need not take candles up j to the cell that night, as Lord Nithsdale wished to be alone, to pray in preparation for the morrow. It was not until early next morning that the escape was discovered—and by that time time Lord Nithsdale was safely out of 6ador. There was great consternation amongst the warders of the Tower, but the bird had flown, and instead of the three Lords Derwentwater and Kenmare were executed on Tower Hill that cold February morning. Even after the main part of her task waa done Lady Nithsdale preserved her cool and unshaken courage—a thing even more rare than the bravery which rises to the height of an emergency. I She refused for the moment to escape overseas with her husband, who went, successively, to Dover. Calais, and Rome. She realised her own imminent peril, but she was determined to recover the burned papers and documents from Scotland, In the interests of her only son. So back she went to Dumfries-shire and. putting a bold face on her errand, issued ! invitations to all her friends and neighbours j for a certain night. But, twenty-four hours I before the time named, she dug up the papers, sent them on to a place of safe j keeping, and was miles away on the road to London before the Torreglas neiihbourhood realised what had happened. Now at last her work was finished, and she felt free to join her husband in Rome She lived until 1749, charming and fascinating to the last, and lies burled in the Fitzalan Chapel near Arundel. And it was of her that George I. declared : "Lady Nithsdale did whatever ehe pleased, h spite of him. and she had given him more trouble than any other woman in the whole of Europe." 1 - —