CHAPTER XII.

FOOTNOTES:[271]S.P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. No. 94.[272]S.P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. No. 94.[273]Papers or Letters of Sir E. Digby, n. 9.[274]He afterwards “assisted in taking prisoners”of some of the conspirators. S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi.; G. P. Bk., n. 142.[275]Biographia Britannica, Vol. iii. p. 184.[276]Stow’sAnnales, p. 880.[277]Examination of J. Fowes, S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. n. 19. Letter enclosed from the Sheriff and Justices of Warwickshire.[278]S. P. Dom. James I., G. P. Bk., Part II. n. 135. H.[279]Jardine, p. 111, footnote.[280]S. P., Robert Winter’s Confession, 21 Jan, 1605-6.[281]See the examination of Richard Hollis, S. P. Gunpowder Treason, 1605, Part II. No. 138.[282]S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, Part II. No. 121.[283]Ib.[284]P. 111.[285]S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, Part II. No. 138.[286]For accounts of Bates’s visit to Coughton, see Bates’s Examination, Jan. 13, 1605-6; Hall’s Confession, Mar. 6, 1605-6; and Jardine’s G. P., pp. 167-8.[287]S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xviii. n. 87; Exam. of H. Garnet, Feb. 13, 1605-6. See Records S. J., Vol. iv. p. 146.[288]"Father Garnet and the Gunpowder Plot," Pollen, p. 23.[289]Narrative of the Gunpowder Plot, Gerard, p. 84.[290]S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, Part II. No. 121.[291]The G. P., Jardine, p. 111.[292]S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, Part II. n. 121.[293]“The mansion-house, which is moated round, but now in a very ruinous condition, having been much neglected ever since the gunpowder treason in 1606, in which plot the Winters were deeply concerned.”Nash’s Worcestershire, Vol. i. p. 592.[294]“Like the gateway of the schools of Oxford, but of much more antient date.”Nash’s Worcestershire, Vol. i. p. 258.[295]Possibly he may have remembered that a former owner of Grafton, Sir Humphrey Stafford, had been executed at Tyburn for treason, rather more than a century earlier.[296]The greater part of Grafton was burned down about 1710.Nash, Vol. i. p. 158.[297]Cal. Sta. Pa. Dom., 1603-10, p. 245.[298]S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, n. 43.[299]Sir E. D.’s Letters, paper 3.[300]Exam. of Bates, 13 Jan. 1606; G. P. Book, Gardiner’sHist. Eng., Declaration of Morgan, 10 Jan.; G. P. Book; Vol. i. p. 260.[301]A very curious house, said to have been built by John Habington, cofferer to Queen Elizabeth.Nash’s Worcestershire, Vol. i. p. 585. This house has been pulled down, and a large modern mansion has been built in its place by the Allsopp family, the head of which, Lord Hindlip, takes his title from it.[302]G. P. Book, Vol ii. n. 197. Exam. of Oldcorne, Mar. 6, 1605, [6].[303]Nevertheless, Abington was condemned to death, because Father Garnet was found in his house, a few weeks later. He was eventually reprieved; but his lands and goods were forfeited. SeeNarrative of the G. P., Gerard, p. 268. He was “confined to Worcestershire on account of the Gunpowder Treason Plot,”and became “The first Collector of Antiquities for that County. Died Oct. 1647, aged 87.”Nash’s Worcestershire, Vol i. Illustrations to p. 588. His wife, sister to Lord Mounteagle, “is supposed to have wrote the letter which discovered the Gunpowder Treason Plot;”ib.[304]Father Garnet was finally arrested at Hindlip, with several others. In their hiding-place their “maintenance had been by a quill or reed, through a whole in the chimney that backed another chimney into the gentlewoman’s chamber, and by that passage cawdles, broths, and warm drinks had been conveyed in unto them.”Ashmole MSS., Vol. 804, fol. 93, quoted by Nash, Vol. i. p. 586.[305]Narrative of the G. P., Gerard, p. 268.[306]Troubles of our Catholic Forefathers, by Father John Morris, S. J., First Series, pp. 143-4.[307]S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. lvii. n. 92.[308]Records S. J., Series I., p. 173.[309]S. P. Gunpowder Treason, Part II. No. 121.[310]S. P. Dom. James I., G. P. Bk., Part II. No. 135, D.[311]Ib.[312]Whewell, or Hewell Grange, had belonged to the Abbey of Bordesley, and had been given, soon after the dissolution of the monasteries, to Sir Andrew Windsor by Hen. VIII. in exchange for the manor of Stanwell in Middlesex. A new house was built at Whewell about 1712. “Here is a pleasant park having hills gently swelling, and a lake of clear water measuring above 30 acres.”Nash’s Worcestershire, Vol ii. p. 423.[313]Thomas Maunder’s Examination, Nov. 1605, and Ellis’s Examination, Nov. 21, 1605. S. P. Dom. James I., Gunpowder Plot Bk., n. 62 and 108.[314]Gunpowder Treason, p. 67.[315]Jardine, 112.[316]Gardiner’s Hist. Eng., Vol. i. p. 261.[317]Digby’s Examination. S.P.O. James I. Dom., 2 Dec. 1605.

FOOTNOTES:

[271]S.P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. No. 94.

[272]S.P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. No. 94.

[273]Papers or Letters of Sir E. Digby, n. 9.

[274]He afterwards “assisted in taking prisoners”of some of the conspirators. S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi.; G. P. Bk., n. 142.

[275]Biographia Britannica, Vol. iii. p. 184.

[276]Stow’sAnnales, p. 880.

[277]Examination of J. Fowes, S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. n. 19. Letter enclosed from the Sheriff and Justices of Warwickshire.

[278]S. P. Dom. James I., G. P. Bk., Part II. n. 135. H.

[279]Jardine, p. 111, footnote.

[280]S. P., Robert Winter’s Confession, 21 Jan, 1605-6.

[281]See the examination of Richard Hollis, S. P. Gunpowder Treason, 1605, Part II. No. 138.

[282]S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, Part II. No. 121.

[283]Ib.

[284]P. 111.

[285]S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, Part II. No. 138.

[286]For accounts of Bates’s visit to Coughton, see Bates’s Examination, Jan. 13, 1605-6; Hall’s Confession, Mar. 6, 1605-6; and Jardine’s G. P., pp. 167-8.

[287]S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xviii. n. 87; Exam. of H. Garnet, Feb. 13, 1605-6. See Records S. J., Vol. iv. p. 146.

[288]"Father Garnet and the Gunpowder Plot," Pollen, p. 23.

[289]Narrative of the Gunpowder Plot, Gerard, p. 84.

[290]S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, Part II. No. 121.

[291]The G. P., Jardine, p. 111.

[292]S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, Part II. n. 121.

[293]“The mansion-house, which is moated round, but now in a very ruinous condition, having been much neglected ever since the gunpowder treason in 1606, in which plot the Winters were deeply concerned.”Nash’s Worcestershire, Vol. i. p. 592.

[294]“Like the gateway of the schools of Oxford, but of much more antient date.”Nash’s Worcestershire, Vol. i. p. 258.

[295]Possibly he may have remembered that a former owner of Grafton, Sir Humphrey Stafford, had been executed at Tyburn for treason, rather more than a century earlier.

[296]The greater part of Grafton was burned down about 1710.Nash, Vol. i. p. 158.

[297]Cal. Sta. Pa. Dom., 1603-10, p. 245.

[298]S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, n. 43.

[299]Sir E. D.’s Letters, paper 3.

[300]Exam. of Bates, 13 Jan. 1606; G. P. Book, Gardiner’sHist. Eng., Declaration of Morgan, 10 Jan.; G. P. Book; Vol. i. p. 260.

[301]A very curious house, said to have been built by John Habington, cofferer to Queen Elizabeth.Nash’s Worcestershire, Vol. i. p. 585. This house has been pulled down, and a large modern mansion has been built in its place by the Allsopp family, the head of which, Lord Hindlip, takes his title from it.

[302]G. P. Book, Vol ii. n. 197. Exam. of Oldcorne, Mar. 6, 1605, [6].

[303]Nevertheless, Abington was condemned to death, because Father Garnet was found in his house, a few weeks later. He was eventually reprieved; but his lands and goods were forfeited. SeeNarrative of the G. P., Gerard, p. 268. He was “confined to Worcestershire on account of the Gunpowder Treason Plot,”and became “The first Collector of Antiquities for that County. Died Oct. 1647, aged 87.”Nash’s Worcestershire, Vol i. Illustrations to p. 588. His wife, sister to Lord Mounteagle, “is supposed to have wrote the letter which discovered the Gunpowder Treason Plot;”ib.

[304]Father Garnet was finally arrested at Hindlip, with several others. In their hiding-place their “maintenance had been by a quill or reed, through a whole in the chimney that backed another chimney into the gentlewoman’s chamber, and by that passage cawdles, broths, and warm drinks had been conveyed in unto them.”Ashmole MSS., Vol. 804, fol. 93, quoted by Nash, Vol. i. p. 586.

[305]Narrative of the G. P., Gerard, p. 268.

[306]Troubles of our Catholic Forefathers, by Father John Morris, S. J., First Series, pp. 143-4.

[307]S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. lvii. n. 92.

[308]Records S. J., Series I., p. 173.

[309]S. P. Gunpowder Treason, Part II. No. 121.

[310]S. P. Dom. James I., G. P. Bk., Part II. No. 135, D.

[311]Ib.

[312]Whewell, or Hewell Grange, had belonged to the Abbey of Bordesley, and had been given, soon after the dissolution of the monasteries, to Sir Andrew Windsor by Hen. VIII. in exchange for the manor of Stanwell in Middlesex. A new house was built at Whewell about 1712. “Here is a pleasant park having hills gently swelling, and a lake of clear water measuring above 30 acres.”Nash’s Worcestershire, Vol ii. p. 423.

[313]Thomas Maunder’s Examination, Nov. 1605, and Ellis’s Examination, Nov. 21, 1605. S. P. Dom. James I., Gunpowder Plot Bk., n. 62 and 108.

[314]Gunpowder Treason, p. 67.

[315]Jardine, 112.

[316]Gardiner’s Hist. Eng., Vol. i. p. 261.

[317]Digby’s Examination. S.P.O. James I. Dom., 2 Dec. 1605.

Much time had been lost on the Thursday afternoon, in going hither and thither, on either side of the route, in the vain hope of persuading the Catholic knights and squires, who lived in the neighbourhood, to join the insurgents; even after dark Digby and his allies continued these fruitless endeavours, in defiance of the band of horsemen that was dogging their footsteps at some distance in the rear; and it was nearly ten o’clock at night[318]before the rapidly diminishing and draggled party reached its destination at Holbeche House, the home of Stephen Littleton.

Holbeche was a large and handsome Elizabethan mansion[319]standing a little way over the South Border of Staffordshire; about four miles to the north of Stourbridge, and a trifle less to the West of Dudley, on what are now the outskirts of the great coal and iron district known as the “black country.”It was a relief to find a resting-place of any sort; and, if the sensations of the conspirators and their followers had much in common with wild beasts tracked to theirlairs, or foxes run to ground, they were, at any rate, within walls which would afford them a temporary protection, and enable them to take a little of the rest and refreshment which they now so much required.

They had not, however, much leisure for repose. They may have learned that the ominous band of horsemen, which had persistently shadowed their progress, had consisted of Sir Richard Walsh, the Sheriff of Worcestershire, a number of country gentlemen who had rallied to his assistance, and aposse comitatus. Although no enemy was any longer in sight, they knew that their position had been ascertained, that spies were probably on the watch for any attempted movement on their part, and that they were to all intents and purposes besieged. Worn out as they were with fatigue and anxiety, they set to work, therefore, to prepare the house to withstand an assault,[320]and spent most of the night thus occupied; so they cannot have had much sleep.

At last Sir Everard Digby had completely lost heart. Worse still, he felt that he had been deceived. “He began to suspect that”the stories which Catesby and Percy had told him of the assistance which Talbot and the Littletons would bring, were not so much mistakes as untruths “devised to engage him in theyr desperate cases.”[321]During the night he still cherished the hope that some strong forces might come to their aid, a hopewhich he would hardly have entertained unless it had been encouraged by Catesby and the other conspirators; but when the day began to dawn and it was evident there were no “succors coming thyther,” he “discryed the falshood of it.”

Whether he informed Catesby of his determination to throw up the whole undertaking does not appear. He may have made the excuse of going away to try to raise men for their help, or of ascertaining whether there were any symptoms of an approaching attack from without. To proclaim himself a deserter from the cause to Catesby would have been to risk a dangerous interview, in which the clinking of swords or the crack of a pistol would be likely to be heard above the interchange of bitter words; and judging from Catesby’s and Winter’s intentions in a certain interview with Tresham, it was more than possible that a sudden stab with a dagger might have given a practical demonstration of Catesby’s opinion of renegades.

“About daie light,”[322]on the Friday morning, he sent his page, William Ellis, and another of his servants, named Michael Rapior, on before him, and presently followed them, accompanied by the rest of his men, with the deliberate intention “to have yealded him self,”and I cannot but suspect that he did so without telling Catesby.

He overtook Ellis and Rapior within a mile of Holbeche, and, telling his servants how desperate he believed their case to be, he made them all a present of their horses and whatever money belonging to him they happened to have upon them; he then freed them from his service and advised them to make their escape as best they could.[323]William Ellis and one other, however, “said they would never leave him, but against their will.”Sir Everard made up his mind to go to “Sir Foulk Greville”and surrender himself, and he began to ask everybody whom he met on the road the way to his house.[324]As Sir Fulke Greville[325]had already obtained Warwick Castle, and was probably living there, Sir Everard must have expected to have a long ride before him.

The three horsemen had been observed by some of the scouts who had been watching Holbeche House, and they gave the alarm to the body of men which had collected for the purpose of either attacking or hunting down the conspirators; the consequence wasthat Sir Everard, his page, and his servant had not proceeded more than a few miles when they heard shouts in the distance behind them, and on looking round, perceived that they were being pursued by that motley, but much-dreaded, force known as the “hue and cry.”

To say nothing of the indignity of being captured by a yelling mob, it would be infinitely more dangerous than a voluntary submission to some recognised authority; for this reason, Digby, with his two attendants, tried to escape, and, as they were riding three excellent horses, they had great hopes of succeeding in doing so.

Nor were these hopes altogether groundless; for, when they began to gallop, they soon widened the distance between themselves and their pursuers; but they observed that the peasants and wayfarers whom they passed turned round to stare at them, which showed that their route would be pointed out to the “hue-and-cry.”As Father Gerard says, “it was not possible for them to pass or go unknown, especially Sir Everard Digby, being so noted a man for his stature and personage, and withal so well appointed as he was.”[326]He thought it wisest, therefore, to go into a large wood, and to hide there until the “hue-and-cry” should have passed. In this fortune favoured them, for, on turning along a bye-path from the main track in the wood, they saw a dry pit, and down into this they rode.

They had not been very long concealed in it when they heard the distant thud of galloping horses, and every now and then the shouting of their riders. Nearer and nearer came the sounds, and, just as they grew loudest, to his great delight Digby heard them beginning to decrease in force, which showed that the galloping mob had passed his retreat and was going on an objectless errand.

Presently the sounds ceased altogether, and Sir Everard and his two companions were on the point of emerging from their ambush, when they fancied they heard the footsteps of two horses proceeding at a walk. A voice confirmed them in this opinion. Once more there was silence, and once again there were sounds of horses’ feet and men’s voices.

Suddenly a cry of “Here he is; here he is!”[327]showed that they were discovered. The baffled hunters had turned back to try to trace the hoof-marks of the fugitives’ horses on either side of the rough roadway through the wood, and the wet, muddy weather had enabled them to succeed in this attempt. In that moment of extreme peril, Sir Everard showed plenty of courage. “Here he is, indeed!”said he; “what then?”

Looking up, he saw about ten or twelve horsemen standing about the entrance to the pit; and believing that the main body of the “hue-and-cry”were scattered about the wood searching in differentdirections, he hoped to be able to force his way through the small group which he saw above; accordingly he “advanced his horse in the manner of curvetting (which he was expert in) and thought to have borne them over, and so to break from them.”

As the event proved, they were quite unprepared for the shock of his charge, and, thrown into confusion, they were unable to prevent him from forcing his way safely through their midst; but as soon as he had done so, he found himself surrounded by more than a hundred horsemen, trotting up from different directions. Perceiving that escape was now impossible, he “willingly yielded himself to the likeliest man of the company,”and was immediately made a prisoner.

Would it have been more becoming to have sold his life dearly and to have died on the field by shot, pike, or sword, than to have surrendered to that ill-mounted, ill-armed, and irregular band of squireens, yeomen, and tradesmen, with the certainty of the disgraceful gallows and the quartering hatchet before him? The reasons for his acting otherwise, given by Father Gerard, are at least logical. He had a desire, he says,[328]“to have some time before his death for his better preparation, and withal”he hoped “to have done some service to the Catholic cause by word, sith he saw he could not do it by the sword.”

I have been unable to find any details as to what befel Sir Everard between his arrest and his long, wearying, and humiliating ride of nearly a hundred and twenty miles to London. Bound a prisoner on his horse, and guarded by armed men on all sides, he would be an object of curiosity and derision in every town, village, and hamlet through which he passed. He would be taken through Warwickshire, which had been the scene of his fruitless attempt to raise an insurrection during the two previous days; probably, through many places well known in happier times in Northamptonshire; through yet more familiar localities in Buckinghamshire, where he had hitherto been hailed with raised hats and genial smiles; and even, perhaps, within a few miles of his beloved Gothurst itself. When he entered Middlesex, the nearer he came to London, the greater would be the angry demonstrations of hostility on the part of the crowds that turned out to see the traitor and conspirator as he was conducted towards the Tower to take his trial for high treason. There may have been a few sympathisers among the mob, such as the man who was heard to whisper that “It had been brave sport, yf it had gone forward”;[329]but such remarks would not be made loud enough to reach the ears of Digby.

The shame of that journey must have been intense to a man constituted like Sir Everard, and it mayhave been increased by the reflection that he had forsaken his friends, with the intention of surrendering himself; and that, although they had certainly deceived him, he was in some sense a deserter from their ranks, at the moment of their extremity, as well as a traitor to his king.

Unquestionably his greatest sorrow of all was to think of his wife and children at Coughton. The unfortunate Lady Digby had sent a servant, named James Garvey,[330]“in search of his master, when he was apprehended”; for “Sir Everard had horses at Coughton.”Although she would doubtless think it a comparatively minor matter, the rude fact was soon forced upon her that, if her husband were attainted of high treason, all his estates would be confiscated, and she presently learned that the lawyers were already wrangling over the technical question whether her own property at Gothurst, which was settled on Sir Everard and his children, would not have to go too. The Crown lawyers claimed that it would, and they issued a notice that no part of it, or its revenues, must be touched by Lady Digby, or anyone else, until after her husband’s trial. She was, therefore, immediately placed in a position of pecuniary embarrassment and want.

Although it is an oft-told tale, and does not directly concern the subject of my biography, my story might seem incomplete if I were to say nothing of thosewhom Sir Everard had left behind him, when he rode away from Holbeche.

According to Jardine, two of the company at Holbeche, besides Sir Everard, deserted that house on the Friday morning. One was the host, Stephen Littleton. It should be remembered that he had not been a sworn conspirator in the Gunpowder Plot, and that it would seem hard that he should bear the penalty of sheltering his friends who had been concerned in it. As a matter of fact, this was exactly what he had to do; for he was executed for this very offence and, curiously enough, another too good-natured man, of the name of Perkises, was executed in his turn for sheltering him. The other fugitive was Robert Winter, who was afterwards captured and executed.

Sir Everard and his men had not long left Holbeche, when Catesby, Rookwood, and Grant endeavoured to dry some of the gunpowder from Whewell, which had got “dank”in the open cart on its journey the previous afternoon, upon a platter over a large fire. As might have been expected, it ignited and exploded, severely burning several of them.

Even Catesby now lost heart, expressed his fears that God disapproved of their proceedings,[331]and said that here he meant to remain and die. The other conspirators said they would do the same, and theyseem now, for the first time, to some extent, to have realised the enormity of their sin. They perceived “God to be against them; all prayed before the picture of Our Lady, and confessed that the act was so bloody as they desired God to forgive them.” Then, says Father Gerard,[332]“They all fell earnestly to their prayers, the Litanies and such like (as some of the company affirmed that escaped taking, being none of the conspirators, but such as joined with them in the country); they also spent an hour in meditation.” It is satisfactory to know that they showed some contrition for their terrible iniquity and tried to make their peace with God; and, being Catholics, they would know what to do to this end.

At eleven o’clock, the High Sheriff appeared with a large force and surrounded the house. Thomas Winter went out into the court-yard and was shot in the shoulder by an arrow from a cross-bow, just as Catesby, who followed him, exclaimed, “Stand by me, Tom, and we will die together.”The two brothers, John and Christopher Wright, followed him, and both were mortally wounded. Rookwood, who had been severely burned by the explosion of gunpowder, was shot through the arm by a bullet from a musket and wounded in the body by a pike. Catesby and Percy stood back to back and were both shot through the body. Catesby died shortly afterwards in the house, after declaring “that the plot and practice ofthis treason was only his, and that all others were but his assistants, chosen by himself to that purpose, and that the honour thereof belonged only to himself.” Percy died the next day.

As soon as Catesby and Percy had fallen, the attacking party rushed into the court-yard, overpowered the feeble resistance offered to them, and made prisoners of the whole party.

The besiegers of Holbeche House were little more orderly than the hue and cry which had chased Sir Everard Digby. Sir Thos. Lawley, who was assisting the Sheriff of Worcestershire, wrote afterward to Salisbury[333]:—“I hasted to revive Catesby and Percy and the two Wrights, who lay deadly wounded on the ground, thinking by the recovery of them to have done unto his Majesty better service than by suffering them to die. But such was the extreme disorder of the baser sort, that while I with my men took up one of the languishing traitors, the rude people stripped the rest naked; and their wounds being many and grievous, and no surgeon at hand, they became incurable and so died.”

In a very short time, Sir Everard Digby, Rookwood, Thomas Winter, John Grant, Robert Keyes, Francis and Tresham were all safely lodged in the Tower, besides the earliest conspirator arrested—Guy Fawkes.

One of the first things that Sir Everard did after being brought to London was to beg as a specialfavour to be permitted to see the king[334]—a boon most unlikely to be granted—“intending to lay down the causes so plainly which had moved them to this attempt,” namely the Gunpowder Plot, “and withal how dangerous it was for His Majesty to take the course he did, as that he hoped to persuade at least some mitigation, if not toleration, for Catholics.”Of course he was informed that no such favour would be shown him; but that he would very shortly be examined by the Lords of the Council, when an opportunity would be given to him of making a statement.

The news of the popular indignation at the Gunpowder Plot must have added greatly to Digby’s sorrows. On Sunday, November 10th,[335]“a solemn thanksgiving was offered in all the churches.”He would hear, too, that on the night of the very day that the explosion was to have taken place, church-bells were ringing, and bonfires were blazing in all directions as a testimony of the public rejoicing at the failure of the plot.[336]Even[337]“the Spanish Ambassador made bonfires, and threw money amongst the people.”

More galling still was the ever-increasing evidence of the horror of the English Catholics and their angry disclaimers of having had anything to do with, or any sympathy for, such a nefarious scheme.

“If, after the discovery,”says Tierney,[338]“the popehimself abstained from issuing a formal condemnation of the conspiracy, Blackwell, at least, his delegate and representative in England, instantly came forward to stigmatize it as a ‘detestable device,’ an ‘intolerable, uncharitable, scandalous, and desperate fact.’ No sooner had the proclamation for the apprehension of the conspirators announced the intelligence that Catholics were implicated in it, than he addressed a letter to the clergy and laity of his flock (Nov. 7), reminding them of the criminality of all forcible attempts against the government, and exhorting them to manifest their respect for the decisions of the church, the clergy by inculcating, the laity by practising, that patient submission to the laws, which alone could ‘please God, mollify man, and increase their merits and their glory in the world to come.’”Reports of this letter would be received by Sir Everard on his arrival in London.

The Archpriest’s manifesto was most opportune; for about the time he was writing it, Ben Jonson, the poet, who had been a Catholic for seven years,[339]was writing to Salisbury that some say they must consult the Archpriest; but that he, Ben Jonson, thinks[340]“they are all so enweaved in it as it will make 500 gent. lesse of the religion within this weeke.”He also got up in the Council Chamber at Whitehall,[341]denounced the plot onbehalf of the Catholics of England, and offered his services in hunting down the gang of miscreants that had brought this discredit on his Church.

“Three weeks later,”continues Tierney, the Archpriest “repeated his admonition in still stronger terms. He reminded his people of his former letter, assured them that ‘no violent attempt against the king or his government could be other than a most grievous and heinous offence to God’; and concluded by declaring that, as the pope had already condemned all such unlawful proceedings, so he, by the authority of the pope, now strictly forbad Catholics, under pain of ecclesiastical censures, ‘to attempt any practise or action, tending to the prejudice’ of the throne, or to behave themselves in any manner but such ‘as became dutiful subjects and religious Catholics, to their king, his counsellors, and officers.’”

With a copy of the first of these two letters[342]before me, I am struck by one sentence which lays down a golden rule concerning political plots. “Moreover, our divines do say that it is not lawful for private subjects, by private authority, to take arms against their lawful king, albeit he become a tyrant.”

How bitterly Sir Everard Digby felt the disapproval of the Catholics may be judged from one of his letters to his wife, written in the Tower.[343]“But now let me tell you, what a grief it hath been to me,to hear that so much condemned which I did believe would have been otherwise thought on by Catholicks; there is no other cause but this, which hath made me desire life, for when I came into prison, death would have been a welcome friend unto me, and was most desired; but when I heard how Catholicks and Priests thought of the matter, and that it should be a great sin that should be in theCauseof my end, it called my conscience in doubt of my very best actions and intentions in question: for I knew that my self might easily be deceived in such a business, therefore I protest unto you that the doubts I had of my own good state, which only proceeded from the censure of others, caused more bitterness of grief in me than all the miseries that ever I suffered, and only this caused me wish life till I might meet with a ghostly friend. For some good space I could do nothing, but with tears ask pardon at God’s hands for all my errors, both in actions and intentions in this business, and in my whole life, which the censure of this, contrary to my expectance, caused me to doubt; I did humbly beseech that my death, might satisfie for my offence, which I should and shall offer most gladly to the Giver of Life. I assure you as I hope in God that the love of all my estate and worldly happiness did never trouble me, nor the love of it since my imprisonment did ever move me to wish life. But if that I may live to make satisfaction to God and the world, where I havegiven any scandal, I shall not grieve if I should never look Living Creature in the face again, and besides that deprivation endure all worldly misery.”[344]

Sir Everard was examined in the Tower several times; first, on two successive days, November 19th and 20th, he was questioned at some length, before Nottingham, Suffolk, Devonshire, Northampton, Salisbury, Mar, Dunbar, and Coke. A good deal of his evidence has already been quoted. On the first day, he only admitted that Catesby[345]“did comfort him with future hopes and told him that he doubted not but there would be a course effected for theyr good,” and that it was not until Tuesday, the 5th of November, that “Mr Catesbie acquainted him with the practice of yetreason of yeblowing up the Parlamt. howse,” when he “gave him some inkling what had bin the plott of undermining the Parlament howse, to blow it up; and on Wednesday told him more at large &c.,”naming “who had bin the miners.”

On the following day, however, “he beinge shewed by the Lshis follye and faulte in denyinge that wchwas so manyfest and beinge toulde that both Tho. Wynter had speach whhim of the pticulars, concerninge the plot of the powder to blow upp the K. in the Parliament house, and being confronted wthMr Faucks who charged him to have discoursed wthhim thereof abowte a weeke before the 5th of November at his house in Buck.shyer,”he confessed more freely. Fawkes had been tortured,[346]and most likely, when he charged Sir Everard in this way, he did it in order to escape being tortured again. So many of the conspirators were now known by the others to be in the Tower, and each was so much afraid of what the others might have confessed, that they became terrified and confessed freely when examined. Neither of them knew which of his companions had been tortured in order to induce him to incriminate his friends; and each feared that he might, at any moment, be himself laid upon the rack.

FOOTNOTES:[318]S. P. Gunpowder Treason, Part I. n. 108; Exam. of Wm. Ellis, 20 Nov. 1605.[319]Jardine’s G.P., p. 70.[320]Jardine, p. 114.[321]S. P. Dom. James I., Nov. 1605, Vol. 16. n. 94.[322]S. P. Gunpowder Treason, 1605, I. n. 108; W. Ellis.[323]Narrative of the G. P., Gerard, p. 110. See also an account of the money Sir E. D. had taken with him;ib., p. 92,—“above £1000 in ready coin, as his servants since have averred, that did escape, and one of them delivered up great part of the money to the king’s officers so soon as he saw his master had fallen into the lapse.”[324]Exam. of Sir E. D.[325]“Sir Fulke Greville, a man of letters, and a distinguished courtier in the reigns of Elizabeth and James I., who, at the coronation of the latter prince, was made a Knight of the Bath, and soon after was called from being Treasurer of the Navy to be Chancellor of the Exchequer, and was sworn of the privy council. In the 2nd of King James’s reign he obtained a grant of Warwick Castle and other dependencies about it, and was elevated to the peerage, 29 Jan. 1620-1, by the title of Lord Brooke, &c.”Burke’s Peerage, 1886, p. 1390. Sir Fulke Greville is represented by the present Earl of Warwick.[326]Narrative of the G. P., p. 110.[327]Narrative of the G. P., p. 111.[328]P. 111.[329]S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. n. 29, 1.[330]Cal. Sta. Pa. Dom., 1603-10, p. 248.[331]Stephen Littleton’s Confession—Rookwood’s Examination—Jardine, p. 115.[332]Narrative of the Gunpowder Plot, p. 109.[333]Additional MSS., British Museum, No. 617, p. 565.[334]Narrative of the G. P., Gerard, p. 111.[335]Gardiner’sHist. Eng., Vol. i. p. 266.[336]S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. n. 23.[337]Stow’sAnnales, p. 880.[338]Notes to Dodds’Church Hist. of Eng., Vol. iv. p. 64.[339]Dixon’sHer Majesty’s Tower, Vol. ii. p. 191.[340]S. P., James I., Dom., Vol. xvi. n. 30.[341]Dixon’sHer Majesty’s Tower, Vol. ii. p. 191.[342]See S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. n. 21.[343]Letters of Sir E. D. (p. 170), No. 1.[344]In the Tower, he wrote to his wife with lemon juice on slips of paper as opportunity offered. These were kept as precious relics by his family. SeeBiographia Britannica, Vol. iii. p. 1698.[345]S. P. Dom. James i., Vol. xvi. n. 94, 95.[346]The King wrote:—“The gentler tortours are to be first usid unto him,et sic per gradus ad ima tenditur, and so God speede youre goode worke.”S. P., James I., Dom., Vol. xvi. n. 17, Nov. 6.

FOOTNOTES:

[318]S. P. Gunpowder Treason, Part I. n. 108; Exam. of Wm. Ellis, 20 Nov. 1605.

[319]Jardine’s G.P., p. 70.

[320]Jardine, p. 114.

[321]S. P. Dom. James I., Nov. 1605, Vol. 16. n. 94.

[322]S. P. Gunpowder Treason, 1605, I. n. 108; W. Ellis.

[323]Narrative of the G. P., Gerard, p. 110. See also an account of the money Sir E. D. had taken with him;ib., p. 92,—“above £1000 in ready coin, as his servants since have averred, that did escape, and one of them delivered up great part of the money to the king’s officers so soon as he saw his master had fallen into the lapse.”

[324]Exam. of Sir E. D.

[325]“Sir Fulke Greville, a man of letters, and a distinguished courtier in the reigns of Elizabeth and James I., who, at the coronation of the latter prince, was made a Knight of the Bath, and soon after was called from being Treasurer of the Navy to be Chancellor of the Exchequer, and was sworn of the privy council. In the 2nd of King James’s reign he obtained a grant of Warwick Castle and other dependencies about it, and was elevated to the peerage, 29 Jan. 1620-1, by the title of Lord Brooke, &c.”Burke’s Peerage, 1886, p. 1390. Sir Fulke Greville is represented by the present Earl of Warwick.

[326]Narrative of the G. P., p. 110.

[327]Narrative of the G. P., p. 111.

[328]P. 111.

[329]S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. n. 29, 1.

[330]Cal. Sta. Pa. Dom., 1603-10, p. 248.

[331]Stephen Littleton’s Confession—Rookwood’s Examination—Jardine, p. 115.

[332]Narrative of the Gunpowder Plot, p. 109.

[333]Additional MSS., British Museum, No. 617, p. 565.

[334]Narrative of the G. P., Gerard, p. 111.

[335]Gardiner’sHist. Eng., Vol. i. p. 266.

[336]S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. n. 23.

[337]Stow’sAnnales, p. 880.

[338]Notes to Dodds’Church Hist. of Eng., Vol. iv. p. 64.

[339]Dixon’sHer Majesty’s Tower, Vol. ii. p. 191.

[340]S. P., James I., Dom., Vol. xvi. n. 30.

[341]Dixon’sHer Majesty’s Tower, Vol. ii. p. 191.

[342]See S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. n. 21.

[343]Letters of Sir E. D. (p. 170), No. 1.

[344]In the Tower, he wrote to his wife with lemon juice on slips of paper as opportunity offered. These were kept as precious relics by his family. SeeBiographia Britannica, Vol. iii. p. 1698.

[345]S. P. Dom. James i., Vol. xvi. n. 94, 95.

[346]The King wrote:—“The gentler tortours are to be first usid unto him,et sic per gradus ad ima tenditur, and so God speede youre goode worke.”S. P., James I., Dom., Vol. xvi. n. 17, Nov. 6.

Sir Everard says, in a letter from the Tower,[347]that, at one of his examinations, “they did in a Fashion offer me the torture, which I wil rather indure then hurt any body”; but it was only a threat; for, although torture was used to priests and Jesuits in connection with the Gunpowder Plot, it does not[348]appear to have been brought to bear upon any of the actual conspirators except Guy Fawkes. Lord Dunfermline, however, strongly urged Salisbury to expose them to it.[349]“Recommends that the prisoners be confined apart, in darkness, and examined by torch-light, and that the tortures be slow and at intervals, as being the most effectual.”On the other hand, a tract, printed in 1606,[350]says of the conspirators, that “in the time of their imprisonment, they rather feasted with their sins, than fasted with sorrow for them; were richly apparelled, fared deliciously, and took tobacco out of measure, with a seeming carelessness of their crime.”

Sir Everard had not been many days in the Tower before the Government had a search made at Harrowden, the house of his young friend, Lord Vaux, whose mother was suspected of having been privy to the plot. Great hopes were entertained of finding here Digby’s great friend, Father Gerard, who also lay under suspicion of having been concerned in it.[351]“The house was beset with at least 300 men, and those well appointed.”“They searched for two or three days continually, and searched with candles in cellars and several dark corners. They searched every cabinet and box in her [Mrs Vaux’s] own closet, for letters, &c.”A letter to Salisbury stated[352]that Mrs Vaux “gave up all her keys; all the rooms, especially his closet, narrowly searched, but no papers found. She and the young Lord strongly deny all knowledge of the treason; the house still guarded.”Brother Foley says[353]“that house was strictly searched and watched for nine days, with the especial hope of seizing Father Gerard. Though he escaped, the pious lady of the house was herself carried off to London.”She was severely examinedbefore the Privy Council; and Sir Everard Digby was pressed to say whether he had not been very lately in her company—indeed, it was on this point that “they did in a Fashion offer”him “the torture”—but, although she admitted, in her examination,[354]that Sir Everard Digby, Robert Catesby, and “Greene and Darcy, priests,”had been visitors at her house, and, when she refused to say where Father Gerard was, she was told she must die,[355]nothing could be proved against her and she was liberated.

It must have been a great comfort to Lady Digby to receive the scraps of paper inscribed with lemon juice from her husband. It is easy to imagine the eagerness and care with which she would hold them before the fire in order to develope their writing, with anxiety to make every letter legible and fear lest the paper should become scorched. Sir Everard calls her his “Dearest”; but, in letters which might possibly fall into hands for which they were not intended, it would have been out of place to make much display of affection, and the only exhibition of that kind is to be found in a poem which will be quoted later.

In her straits for money, she applied, and not altogether without success, to Salisbury; for we find her writing to him thus:—[356]

“Right Hoable—Your comfortable favours towards me proseding from your noblle disposition in ordering a means for my relefe (being plunged in distresse) by aucthoritie of yours and the rest of the Lords letters to the Sherife of Buck. incytith me to yeld and duly too acknowleg by thes my most humble thankes; for wchfavor I shall ever horyour Lopand praye to the —— allmighti for your greatest hapines and with all humbllenes remayne to“Your hordevoted“Mary Digby.”

“Your hordevoted“Mary Digby.”

As usual, in a lady’s letter, the pith is in the postscript.

“Pos.Being most fearfull to ofend you horyet enforced out of the dutifull love towards my wofull husband, I humbly beg pardon to desier your Lopsconsent and furtharance for such an unspeakable hapines as that out of your worthy and noblle disposition you would purchase merci for my husband’s life, for wchyou should tie us our posteritie to you and your howse for ever and I hope his ofence agaynst his Matieis not so haynous in that excrable plot, as is sayd to be contrived by som others, which in my hart I cannot conceve his natuer to give consente for such an ackt to be committed.”[Endorsed] “To the Right Honoble. the Earlle of Salsbery, Principall Secretary to the King’s most excelent Matie.”

[Endorsed] “To the Right Honoble. the Earlle of Salsbery, Principall Secretary to the King’s most excelent Matie.”

Lady Digby did not find Lord Salisbury’s orders forher relief so availing in practice as in theory; for, a little later, she wrote to him again. I will not weary my readers by giving her exact spelling—such words as “pertickellers,”for particulars, “shreife,”for sheriff, “reseved,”for received, and “howsold”for household, soon become troublesome and vexatious—but I will endeavour to transcribe her letter according to modern orthography and punctuation.

[357]“Mary Digby to Lord Salisbury.Right Honourable Lord.—My poor and perplexed estate enforceth me to be an humble petitioner to your good Lordship. I was most fearful and loth to trouble your honour so long as I had any hopes of redress without it; but finding none elsewhere, makes me presume to present these unto your honour. I confidently believe your lordship doth think that, upon yours with others of the Lords of his majesty —— council, your letters to the Sheriff of Buckinghamshire in my behalf (for which I humbly give thanks), hath given ease and relief unto my present wants; but truly my lord it is nothing so, for all which he hath done, since he received that letter, is but that he hath returned, near from whence he had taken, part of the household stuff which he had carried away and there keepeth it; but will not let anything be delivered to my use; notwithstanding I procured the Lord Treasurer’s warrant to him, for the delivery of divers things most needful for my present use; forwhich I was to put in sureties for their return, when they should be justly demanded, which was by bond and drawn according to the Lord Treasurer his own direction, which was, as the sheriff said, too favourable for me, and therefore did refuse it; such strange and hard proceedings doth he still continue against me (the particulars thereof were too tedious to relate unto your lordship) that, without your honour’s good assistance, I shall receive no part of such good favours as your lordship meant unto me. Never, since my grievous calamities, I have received no one penny, but am forced to borrow, both for my own present spending, and to furnish Mr Digby with those things he wants, and as hath been called to me for by the lieutenant of the Tower, which borrowed money I must forthwith repay; and the cause why I can receive none, according to the allowance which was granted for me, is because this sheriff will not pay the money into the exchequer which he hath received for such goods which he sold of Mr Digby’s, which is between 200 and 300 pounds, and hath said he would keep it in his hands till he were allowed for the charge he was at, for the carrying the goods”[some words here are mutilated] “and bringing of them back again. My hope in your Lordship’s pity to my distress promiseth me to find relief for these my complaints, for which I will ever remain your honour’s most thankful—“Mary Digby.“Postscript.—Right honourable,—Though it be no part of my letter, yet is it a very far greater part of my humble desire to your Lordship whereby, I cannot but beg your pitiful commiseration to incline and further his majesty’s mercy for my woeful husband, which if your Lordship extend such a charitable act, we and all what is ours will ever be your honour’s.”

[357]“Mary Digby to Lord Salisbury.

Right Honourable Lord.—My poor and perplexed estate enforceth me to be an humble petitioner to your good Lordship. I was most fearful and loth to trouble your honour so long as I had any hopes of redress without it; but finding none elsewhere, makes me presume to present these unto your honour. I confidently believe your lordship doth think that, upon yours with others of the Lords of his majesty —— council, your letters to the Sheriff of Buckinghamshire in my behalf (for which I humbly give thanks), hath given ease and relief unto my present wants; but truly my lord it is nothing so, for all which he hath done, since he received that letter, is but that he hath returned, near from whence he had taken, part of the household stuff which he had carried away and there keepeth it; but will not let anything be delivered to my use; notwithstanding I procured the Lord Treasurer’s warrant to him, for the delivery of divers things most needful for my present use; forwhich I was to put in sureties for their return, when they should be justly demanded, which was by bond and drawn according to the Lord Treasurer his own direction, which was, as the sheriff said, too favourable for me, and therefore did refuse it; such strange and hard proceedings doth he still continue against me (the particulars thereof were too tedious to relate unto your lordship) that, without your honour’s good assistance, I shall receive no part of such good favours as your lordship meant unto me. Never, since my grievous calamities, I have received no one penny, but am forced to borrow, both for my own present spending, and to furnish Mr Digby with those things he wants, and as hath been called to me for by the lieutenant of the Tower, which borrowed money I must forthwith repay; and the cause why I can receive none, according to the allowance which was granted for me, is because this sheriff will not pay the money into the exchequer which he hath received for such goods which he sold of Mr Digby’s, which is between 200 and 300 pounds, and hath said he would keep it in his hands till he were allowed for the charge he was at, for the carrying the goods”[some words here are mutilated] “and bringing of them back again. My hope in your Lordship’s pity to my distress promiseth me to find relief for these my complaints, for which I will ever remain your honour’s most thankful—

“Mary Digby.

“Postscript.—Right honourable,—Though it be no part of my letter, yet is it a very far greater part of my humble desire to your Lordship whereby, I cannot but beg your pitiful commiseration to incline and further his majesty’s mercy for my woeful husband, which if your Lordship extend such a charitable act, we and all what is ours will ever be your honour’s.”

The “goods which he sold of Mr Digby’s,”mentioned in the letter may be assumed to have been the contents of the trunk, carried by his “trunk-horse,” and inventoried in a letter[358]written from the Tower.

It is probable that Lady Digby wrote to her husband, expressing herself powerless to “conceive his nature to give consent for such an act”as the Gunpowder Plot; for he wrote to her from the Tower excusing himself.[359]

“Let me tell you, that if I had thought there had been the least sin in the Plot, I would not have been of it for all the world: and no other cause drew me to hazard my Fortune and Life, but zeal to God’s Religion. For my keeping it secret, it was caused by certain belief, that those which were best able to judge of the lawfulness of it,”—by these he evidently means the Jesuit Fathers—“had been acquainted with it, and given way to it. More reasons I had to persuade me to this belief than I dare utter, which I will never,to the suspicion of any, though I should go to the Rack for it, and as I did not know it directly that it was approved by such so did I hold it in my Conscience the best not to know any more if I might.”He seems to have intended to convey that he had been practically certain that the Jesuit Fathers had given their approval but was anxious to be able to say that he did not actually know this.

In another letter,[360]he says “My dearest, the —— I take at the uncharitable taking of these matters, will make me say more than I ever thought to have done. For if this design had taken place, there could have been no doubt of other Success: for that night, before any other could have brought the news, we should have known it by Mr Catesby, who should have proclaimed the Heir-Apparent at Charing-Cross, as he came out of Town; to which purpose there was a Proclamation Drawn,”etc. The absurdity of attaching any value to a proclamation by such a comparatively insignificant individual as Catesby does not appear to have occurred to him!

After describing the plans laid for securing the young Duke and the Princess Elizabeth, he goes on to say “there were also courses taken for the satisfying of the people if the first had taken effect, as the speedy notice of Liberty and Freedom from all manner of Slavery, as the ceasing of Wardships and all Monopolies, which with change would have been more plausible tothe people, if the first had been, than is now. There was also a course taken to have given present notice to all Princes, and toAssociatethem with an Oath answerable to the League in France.”Whether “all Princes”would have felt inclined “to associate” themselves “with an Oath”at the request of a band of assassins may be questioned.

Sir Everard, as well as Lady Digby, wrote to Salisbury; but his letters asked for fewer favours.

“If your Lordship,”he wrote,[361]“and the State think it fit to deal severely with the Catholics, within brief there will be massacres, rebellions, and desperate attempts against the King and State. For it is a general received reason among Catholics, that there is not that expecting and suffering course now to be run that was in the Queen’s time, who was the last of her line, and last in expectance to run violent courses against Catholics; for then it was hoped that the King that now is, would have been at least free from persecuting, as his promise was before coming into this realm, and as divers his promises have been since his coming. All these promises every man sees broken.”At the same time, he said that he[362]“will undertake to secure the Pope’s promise not to excommunicate the King, if he will deal mildly with Catholics.”As to plots against the king and the government, something of thekind, he declares, would have been contrived sooner, if the priests had not hindered it.

An earlier letter written by him from the Tower,[363]is thus summarized:—“Sir Everard Digby to Salisbury. Is willing to tell all he knows, but can remember nothing more than he has already confessed, except that Catesby intended to send the Earls of Westmoreland and Derby to raise forces in the North, and would send information to France, Spain, Italy, etc., of their success. Begs that the King will have compassion on his family.”

Meanwhile examinations were constantly going on, not only of the prisoners in the Tower, but also of other persons, with regard to the Gunpowder Plot, and the correspondence on the subject was very large. Lord Salisbury wrote to the Lord Chancellor of Scotland,[364]assuring him that he “would rather die than be slack in searching the dregs of”the plot “to the bottom.” Lady Markham wrote to Salisbury, that[365]the “Plot hath taken deep and dangerous root”; that many will not believe “that holy and good man,”Father Gerard, had anything to do with it; and that Sir Everard Digby is the man from whom he must endeavour to obtain particulars about Walley—i.e., Father Garnet. Mrs Vaux was examined on the eighteenth of November, and she made no secret of Sir Everard having been a visitor at her house. Lady Lovel admitted knowingboth Sir Everard and Catesby, though slightly. To have been a friend of Digby’s was now very dangerous. Servants and retainers of the conspirators were arrested in Worcestershire and Warwickshire, and there examined.

Sir Everard must have envied Tresham his fate, when he heard that he had died in the Tower, especially as he was allowed to have his wife to attend him in his illness; although his death was caused by a painful disease.[366]Sir William Waad, the Lieutenant of the Tower, had a consultation of three doctors—not from motives of mercy, but in order that, “by great care and good providence,”he might “die of that kind of death he most”deserved, and, in spite of his disappointment, Waad seems to have felt a grain of satisfaction, when writing to Salisbury to announce his death,[367]in stating that he died “with very great pain.”His death took place only four days before that appointed for the trial, and, whatever may have been his sufferings, who can doubt that Sir Everard would gladly have changed places with him.

In his solitude in the Tower, Sir Everard wrote the following lines which, if considerably lacking in merit from a poetical and critical point of view, have some interest on account of their pitiful, though calm and dignified tone, as well as the affection which theyexhibit towards his wife and his children; and, as the Protestant Bishop Barlow, in his preface to their publication in 1678, says, “though they be not excellent, yet have”they “a good tincture of Piety and devotion in them.”

Back to Index Next