HISTORIC TRAGEDSES OF LONDON LIFE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7232, 19 October 1901, Page 1

HISTORIC TRAGEDSES OF LONDON LIFE.

« 1_ (By W. W. HUTCHINGS.) NO. I. THE MYSTERIOUS MURDER OF A MAGISTRATE. [All Rights Reserved.] Of all the tragedies that smear the pages of London's history, few th|re are that have so stirred men's feelings' and piqued t-Tieir curiosity through successive generations as the cruel murder of Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey. 'Tis an old story, for the wicked deed w^s done more than two hundred years ago. But the high character of the victim, the brutality with which his destruction was accomplished, the mystery that still enshrouds ihe crime, the effect whie'h it produced upon the nations policy at a lime of panic and (tumult—these and other circumstances combine to invest it with undying interest. • -, y Member of an old Kentish family of repute, Edmund Berry Godfrey was born in 1621, and was educated ufc Westminster School and at Christ Church, Oxford. He was originally designed for the law, hutowing to a defect in his hearing he turned aside to a commercial career, started in business as a dealer, in •wood and timber in London, soon found himself in prosperous circumstances, -and then, 'having shown eminent public Fp:rifc as a parishioner of St Martin's-in-fhe-Fields, he was appointed a justice of the neaee; How highly ihs distinguished himself in this capacity we Irnow from Pepys, from Dr Lloyd, £he Vicar of his parish, and from Bishop Burnet, the historian, all of whom knew "aim intimately. "He was esteemed the best justice in England;" the Bishop roundly declares. Some, indeed^ thought 'him yam and •officious, but," says Bur-nef:-, "I knew him.-wett, and never had reason to think Mm faulty in that ivay. H? was a zealous Protestant, .and loved the Church of England; but had- kind thoughts of the Nonconformists, and was not forward to execute the laws against them." A still more striking , proof of his breadth of mind is the 1 fact, also recorded by Burnet, that in those days of furious hatred of everything Roman Catholic, he interfered with Romanists as little as possible. He was not "apt to search fon priests or mass-houses," as the Bishop puts it. and the result was that " few men of his zea.l lived on better terms with the Papists that he did." During- the Plague, in 1665, this intrepid magistrate remained at his post -whenmany other officials fled terror-stricken into the country. Tuke, the author of a curious account of his life and death, published shortly after the muider, gives one very remarkable instance of his courage and energy at this awful juncture. An abandoned wretch who had made a good thing of robbing the dead of their cerements was at last detected at his choulish work a.ud fled for refuge to the pest-house, in belief that the officers of justice would be afraid to follow him thither.' Bub he reckoned without Edmund Godfrey. When the beadles r-sfused to do their duty, he himself -went into the pest-house, found his man/ arrested him with his own hand, jhaled him' forth, and ordered him, as a 'fitting punis-hment. to be taken, to the churchyard which ' had "ibeen the' scefrie of Jiis loathsome crim©- ai?4 scourged all round the enclosure. The scoundrel, Tuke goes on io fay, harboured feelings of revenge, and lying in wait for the magistrate one dark night, tried to brain him with a bludgeon; but Godfrey whipped out hss sword, a.ffd' kept him at bay until assistance came and he was secured. For this attempted murder the callous brute was transported to a penal settlement, where for some new crime he received the hangman's richly-deserved attentions. For his- courage and his devotion to duty during the plague, Godfrey was knighted by Charles 11., who also presented him -with a silver tankard." But two or three years afterwards he came iirto collision, with tie Court. Not in his magisterial capacity, but as a suitor, he had the temerity 'to put the law in motion against tihe King's physician, Sir Alexander Fraizer, who owed | him some £30 icT firewood. When Charies ] heard that his physician had been subjected j to tho indignity of arrest, ha flew inito «a, rage, had th« bailiffs who executed the writ oouaA}y whipped, fl.n<l procured the ooflimdt- j tal of the presumptuous suitor to the porter's lodge at Whitehall ; and, according to Pepys, magistrate and knight as he was, Godfrey narrowly escaped the punishment that bad been meted out to the bailiffs. He, however, stowed no-disposition to eat humble pie. He maintained thait. he 'had enly availed himself of his lawful redress, declared, that he was quite ready to suffer in the cause of the people, and at last refused to take food as a protest against the unjust and illegal .treatment to wihieh he was being subjected. The result was that after six daya' detention be was released. It was some nine years 'after this incident that there fell out the circumstances which issued in the summary termination of his useful and distinguished cxreer. On Sept. 6, 1678, Titus Oates appeared before him to make affidavit concerning hjs "Popish plot." According to this worthy, who had himself been a real or assumed' Roman Catholic until his villainy necessitated his expulsion from teat church, the "Papists," at the instigation of the Jesuits, were about to rise, assassinate the King and his Council, and perpetrate a general massacre of Protestants. Before going to Sir Edmund Godfrej% Gates had had his ■stcry put before the King, who considered it preposterous, and refused to allow Dauby, the Lord Treasurer, to bring it befoie the Council. It would only create alarm, he said, to give it publicity ; and with his usual j'hrewd sense hs added that; to put the tale into circulation might perhaps suggest the idea of assassination to t-oma crazy icol who otherwise would never think of it. New it was that Titus Oates waited upon Godfrey and made a. sworn deposition of his stoay. Three week? later he came forward again and amplified and embroidered liis original narrative, and the next day (the 28;h), further enquiiy having kw become unavoidable, he was aliowed to go before the Privy Council, wearing " a clerical gown and a new suit of clothts prepared for the occasion," and rep-eat his bloovl-curdling tale. The fellow, it must be allowed, iiad courage to the point of audacity, and after a while iic did not scruple to declare that with his own tars he bad overheard the Queen consent to ier husband's death! By this time public opinion had become highly. infla.med, and it was clear io all wise men that the story, whether true or faise, was bound to uo ;ai immense de;d of mischief. Godfrey wns one cf those who keps their heads. He could r ; ot ignore the alleged plot, but ho was not disposed to tuke it uver-seriuusly. The resultwas that he pleased neither those who belitved nor those who disbelieved it. Oates afterwards declared 'that Godfrey complained to him that he had been affronted by both parties, and that threats wsi-a h«id out to h.:m that as soon as Parliament met) his eonchicl would form a subject for inquiry. That nny such cmnmumcatiim was lKiic'.o is probably false. It was rarely tlhat Oatcs lapsed into truth ; r.or was he at all the kind of man whom Godfrey would have chosen foz* a confidant. But we know frc-m j Bumet- thai- Godfrey now grew a.pprehen- j fivo and reserved. "Meeting me iv iho street," s;>ys the Bishop, "niter seme dig- j

course of the present state of affairs, he believed lie himself fihould ba knocked on the head." To another friend he foretold that he himself would be the- first martyr. "Bui," said he, with his usual spirit, "I co not fear them i£ they come fairly. I shall not part with my life tamely." His friends begged him to allow a servant to, fit tend him when he went abroad; bub he decisively refused. It was a. favourite maxim cf his that the- servants of London were corrupted by the idleness and ill company they fell into while attending on their masters, and he would nob even in this emergency make an exception in his own favour. We come raw to Saturday, the 12th of October (1678). At nine o'clock in the morning of that day Godfrey left his bachelor's hc-ute in what was known jis Green's Lane, at the Charing Cross end of the Strand. Soon afterwards L« was at Marylebone and about mv'd-day he called upon ons of the churchwardens of the parish. It was also said that* he was seen later in the day between. St Clement's Church, at the Fleet Street end cf the Strand, and Somerset Hous-cp-n-ot the present Somerset Hoiise, but She palace, occupying the ifSrne site, built by the Protector Somerset in the. sixteenth century, and at this time the abode, of the Queen. But this last appearance is not well established ; and it was not certain that he was seen alive by pjnyene who knew him — -except by his murderers — after leaving tha churchwarden's "house. As he was a man of regular and punctual habits, his servants were puzzled at his not returning homo that night. Tliß next day his brothers were communicated with, and on Tuesday his disappearance was publicly proclaimed. Or the Thursday, says Burnet, '"' one cam* into a bookseller's shop after dinner," that is, in the afternoon, " and said ha was found thrust through with a sword." Where this report originated- was never' discovered ; bub late that <?ame night two men passing over some lonely fields close to Primrose Hill cams upon the missing magistrate's gloves' and scabbard, ami on. searching about they discovered . bis lifeless body lying in a ditch, transfixed with his own sword! The news of the dreadful/ discovery spread like wildfire, and soon half the town was hastening towards Primrose Hill. From Bishop Burnet we team several highly significant circumstainces which he himself noticed when he viewed tha- remains of his murdered friend. In the first place there was no blood on his clothes or -upon 'the body, so that the sword must have been thrush through him .after death. It was clearly, therefore, no c&?3 of suicide, as was suggeifed in tike interests of the Roman Catholics, who were naturally unwilling to believe in a crinia which -was sure to be laid to their account. Death, as was afterwards -declared by two surgeons who had examined the body, was due to strangulation, which Avas the cause of the mark, "an inch br&ad," that Burnet saw all round th? bare neck. The murdered man had evidently made a desperate fight for life. His assailants had only effected their diabolical purpose by using 'the most brutal violence, for Ms breast was covered with contusions, and his r.cclc was broken. Thei'o was 1 a good deal of money and jewellery found in his possession, which, cf course, shows that robbery was not: the motive ofi the crime. Nothing, in fact, waij misELqg except the cravat, • which. . had 'no doubt bsen removed to make way for the iustrumt'iit- oi stvangtilartiont '•'-' - - ■ : v . Coming at a time when the populace was already wrought up to a high pitch of *s-cit-ementi by Oates s pretended revelations, the atrocious crime had an almost unparalleled effect. " The capital and the -whole nation," says Macaulay, in his brilliant fashion, " went mad with lratCcd and fear. The penal laws, which had begun, to losa something of their edge, were sharpened anew. Everywhere justioes were busied, in searching houses and seizing papers. All the gaols were filled with Papists. Loodon hud the aspect of a city in. a state of siege. The train-bands were under arms all night. Preparations were made for barricading the great thoroughfares. Patrols marched up and down the streets. Cannon were planted round. Whitehall. No citizen thought himself safe unless he carried under his coat a small flail, loaded with lead to brain the Papist assassins." It must be confessed that the authorities showed no anxiety to calm the passions thus brought to a white heat. The body had been conveyed to Godfrey's house, and here it was or/view for several days, &t*d was visited by multitudes of persons, niauy of whom were moved by the spectacle to passionate tears, and to vows of vengeance against the hated Papists. Not till the last day of the month, fourteen days after the discovery of the body, did the funeral take place. It was a public funeral, on the largest scale. The body was first borne to Old Bridewell, near Ludgate .Circus, where it lay in state. Then, followed by many persons high in the service of the State, it was carried along Fleet Street and the Strand, through dense masses of mourning citizens, to St Martin's Church, and there interred, after a- sermon by Dr Lloyd. At 'the inquest held the day after the body was found, a verdict of Wilful Murder "was returned. But with men's mi*cds infuriated against the Roman Catholics, and with the prospect of a reward of £500 offered by the Government for the conviction of the murderers, the matter was Dy no means likely to rest here. The only wonder is that two months had sped before the suspicion that covered a party was condensed into an accusation against individual persons. On Dec. 21, one Prance, a. Roman Catholic silversmith, who had been employed as a silversmith in the Queen's Chapel, at Somerset House, was arrested as a Catholic conspirator, at the instance of ai man who owed him money, and was soon brow-beaten and tortured into confessing that he had had a hand in the murder though he was careful to represent him. self as having played, a strictly subovdinata part. His story was tha'b the crime originated in the scheming brains of priests conr.ected with the Queen's household, who determined upon Godfrey's destruction bocause of the support he was giving to Titus Oates. The instruments of their blood}' purpose were Robert Green, cusbionnian in the Queen's Chapel, Lawrence Hill, servant to Dr Godden, Treasurer .of the Chapel, and Henry Berry, the porter at Somerset House. Having dogged their victim for several days in vain, these men, or. the day of his disappearance, Oct. 12, induced him to step into the courtyard of Somerset Houiti, on the pretence that a dangerous quarrel was raging, and there, m the presence of the three priests, at whose behests they had entered into the business, they strangled him. The attack, Pranc-e dedareu, was led by i Green, who suddenly threw a twisted handkerchief around ihe wugis-tvate's neck. Then they ail dne-w ihon^plvt-> iip'on him, dragged him down, and pulled at the handkerchief until tliey had throttled him. ic was no easy piece of work, fur Godfrey was a muscular" wan, ;md struggled desperately. ! The bruises afterwards found upon his boiiy ; were caused by^ their knees ; and it. was not unr.il Green h;id almost 'twisted his neck right round that his struggles cea-:ed. Meanwhile Prance himself v-i's on ths watch at one of the gates to safeguard the actual mux-dsrers front interruption. When they had satisfied themselves ihab' thenwork was done, they carried the body to Dr Go-ddec's rooms. " On the Monday night it was moved into a room iv ths upper \

court. On. Tuesday night it was shifted to a room opposite Dr Godden's quarters. On the following night it was taken back to the room in which it was first bestowed,, and this same night (Wednesday), a sedan Chair having been procured, and the soldiers oa guard having been -invited! by Berry, the porter, into his house, where be regaled theni with drink and tobacco, Prance himself and Gerald, one of the priests,' carried the body through the great gate unobserved. 1 At Soho the body was ! placed on a horse, ridden by Hill, and bo [ was taken on to Primrose Hill, and there j cast; into the ditch where a few fliours afterwards ib was found. This story, wildly improbable as It ap- | pears to. our eyes, was considered quite good enough to warrant the arrest of the j unf orttmate' men, Green, Hill and Berry ;'■ and the priests also would have been seized bub that they had sought safety in flight. Before the trial Prance abandoned hi» story, and told the King and Council that it was all an invention ; but as soon as he gob back to. Newgate he withdrew his retraction, and sent word to the Council that lids originaF confession was true in, eveiy circfimstance. The accused person* all stoutly;' and consistently denied their guilt,* and when pub upon their trial called 1 witnesses to prove an alibi. They also calli ed the soldiers, who were on. duty at the gate of Somerset House on tie might when, I according to, Prance, the body was taken [ away in a sedan chair, and tnese men [swore that though -"a-' sedan chain was brought in that night — a common enough occurrence— nonev went .out. But Prance had cunningly forestalled this evidence by asserting, as we have seen, that Berry had enticed the giiard into his house while tha removal was being effected. <Hie only confirmation that Prance'a story found was in the evidence of Bedloe, an accomplice of Titiis Oates, and almost as great a-scouttdrel. Yet upoa this illconcocted tale, wrung from a wretch by .torture and: the fear of dea.th or transportation, all three men were found guilty and hanged at ' Tyburn. Berry, the porter, after his conviction, declared, himself a Protestant, said he had *only changed his religion, from fear of losing "this place, And interpreted his doom as the judgment of God upon him for :liis dissimulation. He prepared tii'mself seriously, says B-arnefc,, for death, "and to the last momenib affirmed! he was altogether iiinqcent." Dr Lloyd, who visited both Berry and Prance in Newgate, was convinced tha* Berry was telling the truth, arid was satisfied that Prance was mistaken as to 'his identity. Yet Dr Lloyd was persuaded that the rest of Prance's story was true. A significant indication, this, of\ the madness which haxl seized upon the nation, wnen an educated man like Dr Lloyd was unable to see that on sucii JI point mistake was impossible— that if this essential parb of; the story was not, true the whole of it must *be false ! That these hapless men were victims of a 'most lamentable miscarriage of justice is only too true. Prance was pardoned, and was soon found defending his tale in. pamphlets. Bub in 1685 the bubble "blown by Oates was pricked, and that arch-liar was pilloried and -whipped at the cart's tail, and in 1686, seven years after the murder, Prance's turn came. Brought to tidal fcr perjury, he confessed that he had invented every part of the story which had' sent three men to the gallows, and* he, too, was -pilloried and scourged all the wayi from Newgate to Tyburn. So fax the. case 1 admits of no doubt whatever. But hex* esTtainty ends, and ip, aIV .human pioba* blUty the fcv:l of mystery 'tha* hangs ovetj the affair will never be raised. Linjrard,! the Roman catholic historian, unconsciously influenced, perhaps, by his relogioiui sympathies, favours the theory of suicide.! Macaulay, while declaring that Godfrey'tl fate "is'to this day a secret," thought iSha most probable supposition was that ''some hot-headed Roman Catholic, driven to* frenzy by the lies of Oates and 'by the in* suits "of the multitude, and not distinguish* ing between the -perjured accuser and the innocent magistrate, had taken a revenge of which the 'history of persecuted sects furnishes too many "examples." Yet we know from Burnet that Godfrey had never excited the hostility of the unpopular party and his attitude towards the -plot was noft at all likely to have that effect. The nature of tie injuries, too, suggests that the murder was not the impulsive act of a crazy fanatic, but 'the -calculated deed of a band of ruffians, who first strangled their victim, and "then, it may be from sheer delight in brutal violence, or .in order to give a. touch, of irony to their work, ran him through with his own sword. It wag Oates and his crew who profited from the crime, and on the whole, though H is no case fcr dogmatic assertion, the probability would seem to be, as 'Mr Sidney Lee concludes in his article in the Dictionary of JNation«l .biography, that Godfrey was done to death by thig gang of scoundrels, or some among them, who at once rid themselves of a possible obstacle to them nefarious designs ana stirred up prejudices which caused their calumnies to fall upon greedy ears.