Rebels and traitors

Chapter Seventy-Four — London and abroad: 1653-54

Not all plotters against the Commonwealth were Royalists. This was the problem Thurloe had to face. If the Commonwealth failed, it was likely to be because so much time and energy had to be given to countering dissent, both abroad and at home. At home the most dangerous dissenter was Edward Sexby.

Orlando Lovell's ship back to France crossed one that was returning to England with Sexby, whose history was becoming bizarre. He had just spent months in Bordeaux, among elements of the Fronde rebellion against the French monarchy — a rebellion that had been more farcical than fanatical, more striking for its in-fighting among aristocrats than for any serious reconsideration of social order. Sexby was at the high point of a career that had bucketed through promotion, special service, court-martial and cashiering, after which he was sent to France with four associates, a thousand pounds and a special brief to 'find out things, prevent danger and create an interest'.

He took himself to Bordeaux as a self-appointed political adviser, producing for the Frondeurs a document called L'Accord du Peuple, crudely adapted from the Levellers' manifesto. Sexby had hopes of Bordeaux where, unlike the general carnival elsewhere, craftsmen had banded in a commune to declare a republic. The Fronde was really an odd, half-hearted amalgam; fashionable loaves and hats had been created in the shape of street-urchins' catapults or 'frondes', several beautiful duchesses had intrigued with contemptible lovers and the usual misery had been inflicted on the poor. Then this hotchpotch movement faded fast. The commune in Bordeaux caved in. They opened their gates to royal troops. Threatened with arrest, Edward Sexby climbed out over the city walls by night.

His mission had undoubtedly been dangerous. One of his companions was captured and tortured to death. Sexby returned home, put in a stupendous expenses claim, then made a lofty attempt to set himself up as foreign policy adviser to Cromwell. He suggested a top-secret expedition to gain a British foothold in France, perhaps at La Rochelle. When Cromwell rejected this, Sexby turned bitterly against Cromwell. As Gideon Jukes had noted years before, being sidelined had never suited him.

The stage was now set for Edward Sexby's extraordinary career as Cromwell's implacable enemy.

Whether Oliver Cromwell was a hypocrite or simply pragmatic, in December 1653 he was forced to accept that, after the Rump departed, even its successor, the carefully vetted Barebones Parliament, did not work. Cromwell assumed the title of Lord Protector. He would be an absolute ruler, though he refused to consider the offer of the crown. His enemies mocked this rejection, though it was probably genuine. Many old allies were horrified. Old enemies saw this as their chance.

The Protectorate not only gave a focus for manic Royalist intrigue, it also led to opposition at home from religious and political radicals. Fifth Monarchists and Baptists fulminated. Levellers would bitterly oppose rule by one man, whether he called himself Protector or King. All of them sought Cromwell's removal. Sexby, too, was now busy at that work.

John Thurloe's intelligence service set about tracking every set of dissidents. To do so, the spymaster drew on any possible resources, encouraging turncoats and bribing double agents. In December 1653 as the Protectorate began, Richard Overton, the Leveller, who only a few months before had been stalwartly supporting John Lilburne at his trial, was paid twenty pounds by Thurloe. This substantial sum was an inducement to report on the activities of Edward Sexby.

It was suspected Overton might renege. An attempt was made, therefore, to recruit someone to monitor his activities — one candidate being Lambert Jukes, whose wife knew the wife of Overton. A doubt hung over Lambert, as a convicted Ranter. Even more likely to move in Overton's circles, because he was a printer and Overton constantly wrote pamphlets, was Lambert's brother, Gideon Jukes. He had a sound New Model Army record, and sometimes wrote for the official Parliamentary publisher, Marchamont Nedham. Nedham had connections with Thurloe and it was he who made informal approaches to Gideon.

This Nedham had a mixed history as a publisher and editor, though Gideon found him fairly congenial. In the '40s, Nedham had published Mercurius Britannicus, the Parliamentary response to Royalist propaganda, and after Naseby he printed the King's incriminating papers. He changed sides dramatically over the execution — but while under sentence of death in Newgate, his old love for Parliament was reborn by magic. Ever since, he had championed the need for all parties to submit to the Commonwealth's government, in order to achieve social stability.

As the official propagandist, Nedham was paid a salary, though when he set up the state news-sheet Mercurius Politicus, he also supported it financially by taking in paid advertisements for a sister periodical called The Public Adviser; its regular news of houses and shops for sale, medical prescriptions and apprenticeships offered for gentlemen's sons seemed to Gideon a cheerful indication that life was getting back to normal after years of war. Nedham had a famously jocular style as editor, with superb contacts and correspondents. His official licenser was John Milton, also a contributor, who held a post with the Council of State, having oversight of foreign documents. Other collaborators were also poets, John Dryden and Andrew Marvell.

Gideon had been first introduced to Marchamont Nedham by Robert Allibone in 1651, when Mercurius Politicus was about a year old. He found Nedham a short, hawk-nosed, intense, lively character, whose long black hair and two earrings gave him a raffish appearance. Gideon liked him more than Robert did, so it was only after Robert's death that Gideon wrote occasional pieces for him. He approved of the man's belief in separation of church and state; his dedication to freedom of conscience; even his eagerness — so much despised by others — to make publishing pay. Gideon did not disapprove of that and, for him, Nedham's relationship with the secret service also held spice. He knew the editor worked very closely with John Thurloe. It was logical. They used each other's networks of correspondents. By drawing on Thurloe's intelligence, Nedham obtained reports that were rightly seen as making Mercurius Politicus the only news worth reading.

Marchamont Nedham tried to recruit Gideon to spy on Richard Overton. Gideon wriggled, saying he had just become attached to a lady and was settling himself domestically. He smiled a little to think that the spymaster's office was unaware of his real acquaintance with Overton — the man who had once lured him into his dotterel suit in The Triumph of Peace…

Eventually he agreed the request. 'I shall need time to track him down — ' Gideon rather hoped this would prove impossible.

'Covent Garden,' replied Nedham immediately. 'He lodges in Bedford Street with a Colonel Wetton.'

'Well, that will be helpful,' answered Gideon, a little primly, as his hopes of ducking the task were overturned. 'I may be able to find where he drinks — '

'The Cross Keys,' Nedham instructed firmly.

Now Sir Marmaduke Langdale had Orlando Lovell as his tool, and John Thurloe had Gideon Jukes. Nobody was aware of the ironies.

Thurloe did have Lovell on a list of Royalist activists. The spymaster used Royalist double agents on the Continent, one of whom had noticed Lovell. At this period Thurloe was cultivating a secret correspondent in France called Henry Manning, who was close to Charles II's court. He most usefully sent details of the Sealed Knot, so the supposedly secure group was corrupted from within pretty well as soon as it was formed. Thurloe knew of six founder members, Belasys, Loughborough, Compton, Villiers, Willys and Russell. Others were implicated, sometimes rightly, sometimes wrongly. A name that occasionally came up as an associate was 'Colonel Lovell', though the Duke of York's tutor was called Lovell, which at first confused the issue. Thurloe's agents had not fully latched on to Colonel Orlando Lovell, in cahoots with Sir Marmaduke Langdale. Nor were any of them yet aware of his awkward connection with their own informant, Gideon Jukes.

'We are here in great quiet under our new protector', wrote a Royalist from England, in a letter that was intercepted by Thurloe in January 1654. It was somewhat inaccurate.

Over winter and spring many upheavals occurred, though government espionage had success against them. Thurloe's organisation broke a curious plot directed by Cardinal Mazarin of France involving English Anabaptists. The codewords 'Mr Cross intends to visit Sweden' gave away the Earl of Glencairn's intended rebellion in Scotland which would have brought Charles II there. Imprisoned conspirators supplied long lists of names and haunts, such as the Windmill in Lothbury where one man had met fellow-plotters under cover of his weekly trip to play billiards. The Gerard Plot was foiled and the two brothers who led it were executed.

Orlando Lovell took no part in these proliferating schemes; he derided all of them. However, in September 1654, when Charles II formally commissioned the Earl of Rochester to lead a new wave of risings in England, this seemed to be old-style action and Lovell deigned to assist. Over the next six months he was involved in the procurement and distribution of arms. The weapons were to furnish a countrywide rebellion, which would be led by long-time cavaliers and new recruits. Lord Rochester landed in Kent in mid-February 1655.

Lovell followed. After his involvement in the 1648 rebellion there, it was familiar territory. And Kent was a convenient base from which he could now seriously attempt to find his wife.