executed, and several in
Edinburgh, of the Scottish plotters under Argyle, among whom the
principal was Baillie of Jerviswood. The torture of the boot and the
thumbscrews was used there, I am sorry to say; for they had plenty of
evidence without it. Of the others some evaded altogether, of whom a
good number went to Holland, which was their great refuge at this time,
and others again saved their lives by turning King's evidence. The
Reverend Mr. Ferguson proved himself a clever fellow, as indeed I had
thought him, and a courageous one too, for after attending my Lord
Shaftesbury upon his deathbed, he returned again to Edinburgh, and
there, upon search being made for him, hid himself in the very prison to
which they wished to consign him, and so escaped the death he had
earned.

With regard to the Duke of Monmouth, affairs had taken a very strange
course; and His Majesty, as I think, had behaved with less than his
usual wisdom. Before even Mr. Sidney's death, the Duke had made his
peace, both with the King and the Duke of York, and had, after
expressing extraordinary contrition, and yet denying that he had been in
any way privy to any attempt on the King's life, received a pardon. But
he had not been content with that; and so soon as the _Gazette_
announced that it was so, and had given men to understand that Monmouth
had made his peace by turning King's evidence, what must His Grace do,
but deny it again, and cause it to be denied too in all the
coffee-houses in town? The King was thrown into a passion by this; and
once again His Grace had to sign and read aloud a paper, in the presence
of witnesses and of the King, in the private parlour of the Duchess of
Portsmouth's lodgings--(where, it must be confessed, His Majesty did
much of his business at this time). But the paper was not explicit
enough, and must be re-written: and so the foolish shilly-shally went
on--and he guilty all the time--and at last he evaded them all, and went
back again to Holland.

There was another piece of news that had come to me lately that pleased
me better; and that was of the trial of Oates, for treasonous speaking,
and his condemnation in one hundred thousand pounds, which caused him to
be shut up in prison without more ado, where he could do no more
mischief. Indeed his credit was all gone now, thank God! and all that he
had to do in prison was to prepare himself for his whippings which he
got a year later. A few months earlier too, the