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Authors: Steve Robinson
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Lloyd Needham, Sir Stephen Henley and William Daws. Five men connected in death, hanged as Jacobite supporters. He read the last paragraph of the Ordinary’s account and began to wonder what might have connected these five men in life.
‘I finally commended their Souls to the Mercy of God in Christ, and retir'd from them; leaving them to their private Devotions, for which they had some time allotted them: And then the Cart drew away, and they were turned off, all the while calling on God to have Mercy upon their Souls. This is all the Account here to be given of these dying Persons, by me THOMAS LAING, Ordinary. Friday, May 4. 1708.
Tayte closed the book and they took a break, returning to the ground floor where the café hubbub after the quiet of the reading room was as welcome as the caffeine. Jean sat in a chair by the window and Tayte sat opposite. Officers Hampshire and Hues kept their vigil by the main doors where they remained standing with their drinks and were no doubt bored to distraction.
“So, what do you make of it?” Jean asked.
Tayte sucked the foam from the top of his coffee. “Well, after your history lesson yesterday, I guess I don’t really see how five men who say they were loyal to Queen Anne could qualify as Jacobites. And Naismith was Church of England clergy.”
“Jacobitism wasn’t just a Catholic thing. No more than its supporters were all Scottish.”
“Movies and storybooks again?”
Jean nodded. “Although the majority of longer term supporters were Scottish Catholics and that’s probably what the storytellers latched onto.”
“But what about their loyalty to Queen Anne? Didn’t you say that to be a Jacobite was to be loyal to the Old Pretender calling himself James III?”
“Strictly speaking they were loyal to the bloodline - to his father, James II. Support came from those who believed that his blood was the true royal blood.”
“So in a way Queen Anne’s blood was also Jacobite blood?”
“Technically, I suppose it was. The word ‘Jacobite’ comes from the Latin for James, which is Jacobus . A Jacobite is literally a follower of Jacobus . In this case, James II.”
Tayte half drained his coffee cup. “And that’s what doesn’t make any sense.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, Queen Anne was still alive when these men were hanged. You said she died in 1714, six years after the hangings.”
“That’s right.”
Tayte scoffed. “Well, if someone openly supports the current monarchy, how can they be hanged for high treason? I mean, one contradicts the other, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe they were lying about their allegiance,” Jean said. “They might have said anything to escape the hangman’s noose.”
“But they didn’t escape it. Why keep up the lie if that’s what it was? They were religious men judging from what we’ve read. Surely they would have chosen to die with a clear conscience - cleansed their souls. At least one out of five would have spoken out.”
Jean seemed to be coming around to the idea. “I suppose if they were Jacobites in the way we understand Jacobitism today then no, they wouldn’t have hidden that fact if they knew they were going to die anyway. They would have died proud and loyal men.”
Tayte raised a brow. “Things aren’t quite as they seem here, are they?”
They finished their coffee and headed back upstairs to the Document Reading Room where one record remained to be viewed.
Keep following the clues, Tayte told himself. See where they lead.
At his office in Central London, politician Trenton McAlister gazed out of his window towards Trafalgar Square. His eyes were fixed on Nelson’s Column, taking in nothing of the morning rush hour, which was as much a part of the view as the enduring pigeons. He was deep in thought, not really looking at the effigy of the man whom after all these years he felt he knew so well,
‘I finally commended their Souls to the Mercy of God in Christ, and retir'd from them; leaving them to their private Devotions, for which they had some time allotted them: And then the Cart drew away, and they were turned off, all the while calling on God to have Mercy upon their Souls. This is all the Account here to be given of these dying Persons, by me THOMAS LAING, Ordinary. Friday, May 4. 1708.
Tayte closed the book and they took a break, returning to the ground floor where the café hubbub after the quiet of the reading room was as welcome as the caffeine. Jean sat in a chair by the window and Tayte sat opposite. Officers Hampshire and Hues kept their vigil by the main doors where they remained standing with their drinks and were no doubt bored to distraction.
“So, what do you make of it?” Jean asked.
Tayte sucked the foam from the top of his coffee. “Well, after your history lesson yesterday, I guess I don’t really see how five men who say they were loyal to Queen Anne could qualify as Jacobites. And Naismith was Church of England clergy.”
“Jacobitism wasn’t just a Catholic thing. No more than its supporters were all Scottish.”
“Movies and storybooks again?”
Jean nodded. “Although the majority of longer term supporters were Scottish Catholics and that’s probably what the storytellers latched onto.”
“But what about their loyalty to Queen Anne? Didn’t you say that to be a Jacobite was to be loyal to the Old Pretender calling himself James III?”
“Strictly speaking they were loyal to the bloodline - to his father, James II. Support came from those who believed that his blood was the true royal blood.”
“So in a way Queen Anne’s blood was also Jacobite blood?”
“Technically, I suppose it was. The word ‘Jacobite’ comes from the Latin for James, which is Jacobus . A Jacobite is literally a follower of Jacobus . In this case, James II.”
Tayte half drained his coffee cup. “And that’s what doesn’t make any sense.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, Queen Anne was still alive when these men were hanged. You said she died in 1714, six years after the hangings.”
“That’s right.”
Tayte scoffed. “Well, if someone openly supports the current monarchy, how can they be hanged for high treason? I mean, one contradicts the other, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe they were lying about their allegiance,” Jean said. “They might have said anything to escape the hangman’s noose.”
“But they didn’t escape it. Why keep up the lie if that’s what it was? They were religious men judging from what we’ve read. Surely they would have chosen to die with a clear conscience - cleansed their souls. At least one out of five would have spoken out.”
Jean seemed to be coming around to the idea. “I suppose if they were Jacobites in the way we understand Jacobitism today then no, they wouldn’t have hidden that fact if they knew they were going to die anyway. They would have died proud and loyal men.”
Tayte raised a brow. “Things aren’t quite as they seem here, are they?”
They finished their coffee and headed back upstairs to the Document Reading Room where one record remained to be viewed.
Keep following the clues, Tayte told himself. See where they lead.
At his office in Central London, politician Trenton McAlister gazed out of his window towards Trafalgar Square. His eyes were fixed on Nelson’s Column, taking in nothing of the morning rush hour, which was as much a part of the view as the enduring pigeons. He was deep in thought, not really looking at the effigy of the man whom after all these years he felt he knew so well,
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