A suspenseful chronicle of late-seventeenth-century England profiles the religious terrorism and political tensions that challenged the period, describing the efforts of secretary of the admiralty Samuel Pepys to investigate his mysterious imprisonment for treason. 20,000 first printing.
James Long was a BBC TV news correspondent until the end of the 1980s. After two years starting and running an international TV station out of Zurich, he returned to England to concentrate on writing, which had always been his first love. He wrote four thrillers, then went back to a story he had begun many years earlier and which grew into Ferney. The book was originally born from his disappointment at being unable to buy a derelict cottage he had found near the village of Penselwood and that house became the centre of the story. Many more novels followed, including two written under the pseudonym 'Will Davenport.' He moved into historical non-fiction in 2007 with The Plot against Pepys, co-written with his oldest son, Ben. Since then, he has co-written a play with his middle son, Harry. He lives with his wife, Annie and daughter Matilda in Totnes, Devon. His interests range from archaeology to motor racing. He is actively involved in the creative writing charity, the Arvon Foundation and tutors from time to time on Arvon courses. He is also a patron and adviser to the Dartington Literary Festival, 'Ways with Words.'
It is a truism that it is the victors who, at least initially, write the history of their triumphant conflicts. This was particularly true of the Whiggish opposition to royal absolutism that culminated in England’s Glorious Revolution. Thomas Babington Macaulay’s eloquent "History of England from the Accession of James II" is only the most influential work in a torrent of bluntly partisan chronicles that have almost unanimously cast the struggle in Manichean terms of heroic, freedom-loving Parliamentarians versus ruthless, despotic King’s Men. (There is reason to suspect that histories of America’s Watergate scandals have followed the same simpleminded pattern . . . but I digress.) Happily, Ben and James Long’s remarkable chronicle is a needed corrective to the usual good-guys-against-bad-guys plotline of the final phase of Britain’s Stuart dynasty. If, as has been said, the best history books read like fiction, then it must be asserted that “The Plot Against Pepys” reads like one of the best detective novels you’ll ever read. As Macaulay liked to say, “every schoolboy knows” Britain was long subject to anti-Catholic hysteria, and that the “Popish Plot” witch hunt that raged during 1679-80 was one of the most virulent and shameful outbreaks of this abiding paranoia. Such school boys may even know the name of the half-crazed psychopath—Titus Oates—who initially ignited popular fears with his extravagant tales of a Catholic conspiracy to murder King Charles and set up a Jesuit dictatorship in England. What is less well known is the supportive and manipulative roles that prominent leaders of the respectable Whiggish opposition to King Charles II took in exciting and exploiting those fears as a means to their political end of preventing the probable succession of James II to his brother’s throne. “The Plot Against Pepys” lays all of this complex tale out—and what a tale it is. Samuel Pepys is best known to contemporary readers as a prolix diarist of the Restoration era, whose detailed record of everyday life in that colorful age was additionally enlivened by anecdotes of his sexual adventures, including a vivid scene in which his wife caught him in flagrante delicto with one of his female servants. But Pepys was also a highly placed administrator in the British Admiralty, and it was that position and his patronage relationship with the Duke of York—the future James II—that made him a target of opportunity to those seeking any lever with which to topple the Stuart regime. Accused of treason at the height of the Popish Plot madness, more specifically of providing the hated French with British naval secrets—Pepys was jailed in the Tower of London and scheduled for what looked like a kangaroo court verdict, to be followed, of course, by the traditional hanging, drawing and quartering. As sniggering readers of his diary know, Sam Pepys had his frailties. But cowardice was not among them, and his courage and bureaucratic habits stood him in good stead as he fought back against his chief accuser, one Colonel John Scott, and the powerful if shadowy conspirators who were using Scott to strike through Pepys at their ultimate target, the Duke of York. Much of the Longs’ book is devoted to Pepys’frantic but successful counterattack against his accusers but, thankfully, many pages, too, are dedicated to telling the truly story of the arch-rogue Scott, a indefatigably Satanic villain seemingly sprung intact out of the more feverish pages of a Gothic novel. The larger-than-life Scott was a murderer,theif, forger, perjurer and all-around con man, and it is a telling measure of the age he lived in that he was ever taken seriously, much less employed, by some of the most powerful and respectable men of England’s ruling class. It is well for us that the Whigs did triumph in the Glorious Revolution but the Longs’ book provides compelling evidence that the struggle was not one waged exclusively by angels against demons.
An excellent narrative of the chain of events by which Samuel Pepys was imprisoned in the Tower of London as part of the Popish Plot hysteria of 1679 - a truly horrible moment of witch-hunting against Catholics and suspected allies of the Duke of York, the heir to the throne, who had been exiled from England because of his religion. Faced by false accusers who had powerful political allies, Pepys' life was clearly in danger; but he cooly assembled evidence in his own defence and was able to hang on until the political wind changed in his favour. A very nice micro-study of how a well-known set of political events affected a well-known figure of the time. Particularly nice to have detail on Pepys' main accuser, an adventurer who had got enmeshed in the politics of Connecticut, Long Island, and New Amsterdam (which had recently been captured by the British and renamed after the Duke of York).
Excellent and clear account in plenty of detail about the dangerous period of the Popish Plot and the various scoundrels that were prepared to go so any lengths to further their own cause and feather own nests. Confirmed my view of how extraordinary Pepys was and his resilience and focus.
Excellent canter through late restoration London and the main protagonist being Samuel Pepys with an honourable mention to John Scott. Some fantastic characters and some politicking both high and low.
I didn't know Samuel Pepys ever got into serious trouble - excepting the times his wife caught him out with the maids. But he was framed as a traitor, selling secrets to the French, just because his patron (and Lord Admiral) happened to be James, Duke of York, Roman Catholic and heir to the Throne. Being a prisoner in the Tower and in the Marshalsea, with the rope figuratively ready to go around your neck, was no joke. How did he get into this mess? How would he get out of it? I admit I was glued to the book. Good storytelling.
A surprise also awaited me. I did not expect an lesson on American History. One of his accusers was a man on the make named Colonel John Scott. Born in England, raised in the United States, he was an ambitious to get rich quick, seductive, charming scoundrel who seemed to work for anyone who would promise him a lot of money and a position a noble would envy. It did not seem to matter if his paymaster was English, Dutch, French or Colonial American of any of those "homelands". If it was not for John Scott, according to John Scott, New Amsterdam (Manhattan Island) would not have been captured by the British and renamed New York. He should have been its Governor, but HRH the Duke of York got the job. Acting Governor, then. Nope. So John Scott was a pretty disgruntled confidence man. I have to admit it. His adventures were more interesting than Pepys' peril. I'll have to read about the early history of New York City now.
If anyone from the editorial staff at goodreads notices this James D. Long is NOT the author of this book. It was written by the father and son team of James Long and Ben Long.
Most of what people know about Samuel Pepys is from the "Diaries". Short biographies all but skip over the time he spent in the Tower of London accused of treason with the very real fear of execution hanging over him.
He was accused of the worst type of treason imaginable in the late 17th century in England--secret Catholicism. Roman Catholic priests, mainly Jesuits, were hunted throughout the kingdom. Those harboring them were considered traitors as were all of their family and friends. It was a panic used by the pro-Parliament faction/party against the Stuart loyalists to further thier political aims. Only five percent of the population was Catholic. Practice of the religion was essentially illegal and they were socially and economically margainilized. Citizens feared that "Papist plots" (including THE Papist Plot in which Catholics were accused of setting the Great Fire of London in 1666).
Pepys feel afoul of this organized hysteria when an extremely dubious character named John Scott accused him of selling naval secrets, including maps of the coastline and British readiness for war at sea, to the French. Since it took only two accusers to convict an accused person of treason the situation was dire indeed.
English legal procedure then was slanted heavily toward the accuser/prosecution. The accused had almost no rights of cross-examination or other ways of impeaching the witnesses against him. Scott himself was a serial accuser who had a grudge against Pepys. Scott was an intriguing character--more so than Pepys in the context of this book because Pepys is a much more familiar figure and one who spent most of his time in England, particularly London, while Scott traveled to the colonies in North America and the Caribbean, swindling entire towns of their land, pocketing large payment for services he couldn't render and even leading an armed insurrection against the Dutch in New York. Pepys was a solid citizen, a member of Parliament and a man of probity while Scott was a criminal staying a few steps ahead of arrest, a freebooter and had proven to lie under oath.
But Pepys was a Roman Catholic and the courts were eager to convict. "The Plot Against Pepys" tells (sometimes in too great detail) his struggle to defend his name and his life. It is an excellent work of popular history, illuminating a time of religious and political hysteria that gripped an entire nation through the lens of this case. Seventeenth century England can seem remote and quite strange to 21st century Americans--for example, the idea of a Civil War followed by representatives of both sides peaceably settling differences in its aftermath is much at odds with our own experience but there are a lot of lessons that could be learned today from this book's examination of intolerance, fear and government complicity in judicial murder.
I recall plodding through the Diary of Samuel Pepys in high school, but my only image of him is that of pusillanimous portrayer of London life who enjoyed fine dining with amicable company and who took a physique just about every night prior to retiring. This book by the father and son team of James Long and Ben Long expands Pepys’s life after he ceased his daily journaling because he believed that activity was weakening his eyesight.
As a royal official and a protégé of Duke of York, James, the Catholic-leaning brother of Protestant and heirless King Charles II, Pepys becomes the unwitting victim as the primary target of the nefarious wrangling of the Whig Party during England’s Restoration Period. Led by the irrepressible Earl of Shaftesbury, the Whigs seek to purify England from any outside religious influence, which they believe is the Pope’s design through Jesuit manipulations to overthrow their government. In the background, then, this politico-religious conflict rages.
In the foreground, a massively deceptive campaign is laid upon Samuel Pepys. According to the Longs, Pepys makes an initial error in chasing John Scott out of England because he believed Scott to be the assassin of local justice of the peace, Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey. Scott seeks revenge upon the Royal Navy administrator. The vengeful provocateur—if not amoral prevaricator—becomes a tool of the Whigs to demolish James’s lineage to the throne. With the assistance of perjurous testimony from Titus Oates and William Bedloe, Scott forces Pepys before the House of Commons (under Shaftesbury’s control) and later before Westminster Hall (under the sway of Lord Chief Justice William Scroggs) to defend himself against bogus charges of treason although the particulars of the litigation are kept secret from Pepys.
Political brinksmanship is nothing new in this exposé about political intrigue undone and a global spy-ring unmasked through the meticulous diligence of one government official. The reader can almost replace the names and update the occurrences from four centuries ago to document American politics today.
This work is a savvy study of an arcane period of English history for any interested reader.