Of course the popish plot continued to play its part, its puppets being moved, and its victims selected by the great political oppositionists. Fresh vermin crept out of their billing places of infamy to serve as tools in their hands. Amongst these a young man named Dangerfield played just now a conspicuous part. He was a handsome fellow, deep to the lips in dissipation and guilt. He had been no less than sixteen times convicted of different crimes, and had been repeatedly fined, imprisoned, whipped, set in the pillory, burnt in the hand, and outlawed. This infamous wretch managed to attract the attention of a Mrs. Cellier, a catholic midwife of repute, who collected contributions for the prisoners of her faith in Newgate. Dangerfield was a debtor there, and he assured her that if she would raise money for his discharge, he would possess himself of the papers of a man named Stroud, said to have been suborned by Shaftesbury, against the lords in the Tower. She effected his liberation, and he was employed by her husband to collect debts. He very soon pretended that in visiting different coffee-houses in the course of his business, he had discovered a most dangerous conspiracy, this time not a popish, but a protestant conspiracy. Mrs. Cellier introduced him to lady Powis, and she to lord Peterborough, who took him to the duke of York. To him he stated that the principal presbyterians, during the king's illness, had planned to raise a large army to seize on the crown, and thus prevent a popish successor. James gave him twenty guineas, and led him to the king, who gave him forty more guineas, and ordered secretary Coventry to trace out the plot. What gave plausibility to Dangerfield's story, was that he was in possession of two letters written by Bulstrode, the secretary to Shaftesbury. In consequence of his information, the lodgings of colonel Mansel were searched, and a bundle of treasonable papers were found concealed behind his bed. Mansel declared that the informer must have put them there himself, and on examination they proved to be such a clumsy forgery, that the council committed Dangerfield to Newgate. There the rascal pretended great distress of mind, and declared that this plot was undoubtedly a sham plot, but that he had been employed in it by Mrs. Cellier and lady Powis to cover a real one. That lord Arundel had offered him two thousand pounds to assassinate the king, but that he refused, and then lord Powis offered him five hundred pounds to kill the earl of Shaftesbury. That this was fact, and that the real plot was popish, would be proved by a discovery he would now make, that the original notes of the sham plot were hidden in a meal-tub in Mrs. Celliers house. The papers were found there, and the plot became known as the meal-tub plot.
On such miserable and disgraceful evidence lady Powis was committed to the Tower, and Mrs. Cellier to Newgate, but in turning thus against his benefactor, the miscreant had met with his match. Mrs. Cellier, on the trial, so completely exhibited the vile and worthless character of the viper that she had cherished, that the jury refused to believe him, and acquitted her. There was a charge of high treason against lord Castlemaine on the evidence of the same precious witness, whom the spirited Mrs. Cellier aptly styled, "the matchless rogue," which was also dismissed. Shaftesbury, Sir William Waller, and Dangerfield had visited Cellier whilst in prison, and tempted her to turn informer, but she indignantly refused, and when afterwards attacked by Dangerfield in print, she stoutly and successfully replied to him.
But fresh plots kept streaming up from the same inexhaustible source. A fellow of the name of Bolron, who had been the manager of Sir Thomas Gascoign's colleries in Yorkshire, and dismissed for embezzlement, assisted by Mowbray, a servant dismissed for suspicion of theft, charged Sir Thomas, who was eighty-five years of age, his daughter, lady Tempest. Thomas Gascoign, the son, Mr. Thwinge, the nephew, Sir Miles Stapleton, and others, with a conspiracy to assassinate the king. As the county magistrates would not listen to such a charge, these men hastened to the great receiver-general, as well as inventor of plots, Shaftesbury, and they were arrested and tried in Westminster or the 28th and 29th of July, but were acquitted, with the exception of Mr. Thwinge, who, if the others were innocent, certainly could not be guilty; yet he was executed at York as a traitor.
In these dreadful times no catholic's life was safe if he offended his servants, and these base villains, Dangerfield and Bolron, were still retained by their patrons for other dirty work.
The great object of all these got-up plots, was to drive James from the succession, and two parties were at work for this purpose, who united so far as excluding James, but were divided as to the successor to be set up. Monmouth was the idol of Shaftesbury and his party; William of Orange the selected favourite of Temple, Hyde, Goldophin, and their party—a far more intellectual and able one. Against James this common object of his exclusion told fearfully; for the rest, the deep and cautious character of the Dutchman, and the light and frivolous one of Monmouth, made William's chance far the best. Shaftesbury, Buckingham, and their adherents contrived to win over the duchess of Portsmouth to part of their views by concealing the rest. They represented to her that if the king were brought to nominate his successor, as Cromwell had done, and as an act of parliament would enable him, her eldest son might be selected. The bait took, especially when it was coupled with the terrors of an impeachment in default of compliance, which threatened her ruin and that of her children. She flattered herself that the illegitimacy of her son might be got over, and went zealously into the affair. On the other hand, Shaftesbury made himself sure that if this plan was accomplished, Monmouth would be the successor elect. She pledged herself to use all her influence with Charles, and she was empowered to assure him of a large supply of money from parliament, and the same power of naming his successor as had been given to Henry VIII.
Charles appeared to fall into the scheme, but demanded no less than eight hundred thousand pounds. For this he probably would have sold his brother's birthright. The question of James's exclusion was discussed in the council, and Charles ordered James to return again to Scotland. But what probably saved James, was want of faith betwixt the leaders of the two exclusion factions and Charles, and betwixt each other. Each faction knew that the other had its
