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in the screws, and drew them so hard, that as they put him to extreme torture, so they could not unscrew them, till the smith that made them was brought with his tools to take them off. So he confessed all he knew, which amounted to little more than some discourses of taking of the Duke; to which he said that he answered, his principles could not come up to that; yet in this he, who was a preacher among them, was highly to blame for not revealing such black propositions; though it cannot be denied but that it is a hard thing to discover any thing that is said in confidence. And therefore I saved myself out of those difficulties, by saying to all my friends, that I would not be involved in any such confidence; for as long as I thought our circumstances were such that resistance was not lawful, I thought the concealing any design in order to it was likewise unlawful: And by this means I had preserved myself. But Carstairs had at this time some secrets of great consequence from Holland trusted to him by Fagel, of which they had no suspicion; and so they asked him no questions about them. Yet Fagel saw by that, as he himself told me, how faithful Carstairs was, since he could have saved himself from torture, and merited highly, if he had discovered them. And this was the foundation of his favour with the prince of Orange, and of the great confidence he put in him to his death.
"Upon what was thus screwed out of these two persons, the Earl of Tarras, who had married the Duchess of Monmouth's eldest sister, and six or seven gentlemen of quality, were clapt up. The ministers of state were still most earnestly set on Baillie's destruction, though he was now in so languishing a state, occasioned .chiefly by the bad usage he met with in prison, that if his death would have satisfied the malice of the Court, that seemed to be very near. Baillie's illness increased daily; and his wife prayed for leave to attend on him; and, if they feared an escape, she was willing to be put in irons : But that was denied. Nor would they suffer his daughter, a child of twelve years old, to attend him, even when he was so low, that it was not probable he could live many weeks, his legs being much swelled. But upon these examinations a new method in proceeding against him was taken. An accusation was sent him, not in the form of an indictment, nor grounded on any law, but on a letter of the King's, in which he charged him, not only for a conspiracy to raise rebellion, but for being engaged in the Rye-plot; of all which he was now required to purge himself by oath, otherwise the Council would hold him guilty of it, and proceed accordingly. He was not, as they said, now in a criminal court upon his life, but before the Council, who did only fine and imprison. It was to no purpose for him to say, that by no law, unless it was in a Court of Inquisition, a man could be required to swear against himself, the temptation to perjury being so strong when selfpreservation was in the case, that it seemed against all law and religion to lay such a snare in a man's way. But, to answer all this, it was pretended he was not now on his life, and that whatK
soever lie confessed was not to be made use of against his life; as if the ruin of his family, which consisted of nine children, and perpetual imprisonment, were not more terrible, especially to one so near his end as he was, than death itself. But he had to do with inexorable men; so he was required to take this oath within two days. And by that time, he not being able to appear before the Council, a committee of Council was sent to tender him the oath, and to take his examination. He told them he was not able to speak by reason of the low state of his health, which appeared very evidently to them; for he had almost died while they were with him. He in general protested his innocence, and his abhorrence of all designs against the King, or the Duke's life. For the other interrogatories, he desired they might be left with him, and he would consider them. They persisted to require him to take this oath; but he as firmly refused it. So, upon their report, the Council construed this refusal to be a confession; and fined him L.6Q00, and ordered him to lie still in prison till it was paid. After this it was thought that this matter was at an end, and that this was a final sentence; but he was still kept shut up, and denied all attendance or assistance. He seemed all the while so composed, and even so cheerful, that his behaviour looked like the reviving of the spirit of the noblest of the old Greeks or Romans, or rather of the primitive Christians and first martyrs in those best days of the church. But the Duke was not satisfied with all this. So the ministry applied their arts to Tarras, and the other prisoners, threatening them with all the extremities of misery, if they would not witness treasonable matter against Baillie. They also practised on their wives, and, frightening them, set them on their husbands. In conclusion, they gained what had been so much laboured: Tarras, and one Murray of Philiphaugh, did depose some discourses that Baillie had with them before he went up to London, disposing them to a rebellion. In these they swelled up the matter beyond the truth. Yet all did