In a moment marked by anxiety over the phenomenon of “fake news,” it is especially important to be cautious about the kinds of media and information we are consuming, and in deciding which sources we deem trustworthy. Whether it comes to major media/news outlets or the circulation of Facebook articles, it can be hard to distinguish between which information is accurate and which is biased or fabricated altogether. It’s important to note, however, that though this attention and scrutiny on fake news has been heightened in recent years (especially following the 2016 presidential election), the dissemination of false information has presented problems throughout history, and has had especially poignant effects on the political climate of any given time period. Specifically, we can trace this anxiety over the spread of falsified information back to the 17th century, where the political climate of England crackled with fear and uncertainty over the allegedly impending assassination of King Charles II.
Recently, in my research with SCEMBI at Santa Clara’s Archives & Special Collections, I came across a 17th century printed transcript of a trial relating to what is now known as the Popish Plot—an infamous example of the dangerous implications of fake news. The Popish Plot refers to a conspiracy theory developed by Titus Oates (1649-1705), a man who capitalized on anti-Catholic sentiment in an overwhelmingly Protestant England and Scotland between 1678 and 1681. Oates himself had an interesting history with Catholicism, given that he was received into the Catholic Church in 1677, and then briefly attended St. Omer’s seminary in Europe until he was expelled in 1678. It wasn’t long after his expulsion that he began a series of attempts to stir up anti-Catholic hysteria in England. He did so by claiming that a group of Jesuits and Catholic authorities were plotting to assassinate King Charles II. With the help of a Protestant clergyman named Israel Tonge, Oates developed a manuscript which accused Catholic authorities of instructing English Jesuits to carry out the King’s assassination. Among those accused was the Provincial at St. Omer’s who had expelled Oates from the seminary. Initially, these accusations were regarded with little credit by Charles II.

However, belief in the Plot began to rise after the mysterious murder of an English magistrate, Sir Edmund Godfrey. Godfrey was an important figure in the Popish Plot, as he was responsible for formally hearing Oates’ deposition of evidence (regarding knowledge of the planned assassination) before Oates testified before the King. During this deposition, Oates accused many Jesuits and provided “details” of their alleged plan to assassinate the King. In turn, when Godfrey died mysteriously, it was believed that he had been murdered by Jesuits who wanted to conceal their culpability. To this day, the circumstances of Godfrey’s murder remain a mystery, as the true killer was never identified. Godfrey and his death merely became another pawn in Oates’ conspiracy.
As a result of this suspicion surrounding Godfrey’s murder, three working class men named Robert Green, Henry Berry, and Lawrence Hill were falsely accused and executed. Santa Clara’s department of Archives & Special Collections holds a transcript of the public trial, which took place on February 10, 1678—342 years ago this month. All three men pleaded not guilty, with Green providing a particularly moving statement of innocence; a quote from him taken directly from the trial transcript reads:
I declare to all the world, that I am as innocent of the thing charged upon me, as the Child that is in the Mother’s Womb. I die innocent, I do not care for death, I go to my Savior, and I desire all that hear me to pray for me. I never saw the man to my knowledge alive or dead.
In addition to these three men, about 32 others were also wrongly murdered as a result of the Popish Plot conspiracy, many of whom were Jesuits. Jesuit.org.uk considers these to be “the last major executions of Catholics in England.” Although it soon became clear that Green, Berry, and Hill were innocent of Godfrey’s murder, and that Oates was not to be trusted (he was convicted of perjury in 1685), the anti-Catholic sentiment in England lasted long into the 18th and even 19th century. It wasn’t until the Roman-Catholic Relief Act of 1829 that much anti-Catholic legislature and sentiment began to subside.
The Popish Plot remains relevant today, serving as an example of the extremes to which the issue of unchecked “fake news” has led nearly four centuries ago. The case is also particularly relevant to SCU’s identity as a Jesuit university and a place where students and faculty engage critically with knowledge and others of many faiths and religions. We must be acutely aware of the issue of fake news, and seek to discern truth from fiction as we consume information which is relevant to our work at school, but also in popular media like social media, blogs, news, television, etc. As the Popish Plot shows us, misinformation can be fatal. Altogether, in reading Archives & Special Collections’ copy of the Green, Berry, and Hill trial, I was reminded of the ways in which issues that seem of particular pertinence today often reflect those of centuries prior, and that the discernment between truth and fiction has always been, and always will be, of utmost importance in matters of avoiding oppression and injustice.
Header image: Cropped version of Titus Oates aan de schandpaal, 1685 Kort Begryp Des Levens Van Titus Oates / Abrege De La Vie De Titus Oates from the Rijksmuseum. Retrieved from Wikimedia Commons 5 Feb 2020.