CHAPTER NINE.
ON THE WEARY WAY TO HOLBEACH.
"And thou hast fashioned idols of thine own-- Idols of gold, of silver, and of stone: To them hast bowed the knee, and breathed the breath, And they must help thee in the hour of death."
Sir Edwin Arnold.
While the discomfited conspirators were thus speeding on their wearyway, in hope of yet gathering recruits enough to raise the standard ofrebellion in the interests of that Church on whose behalf they countedeverything lawful, Lord Harrington, at Combe Abbey, heard the news, andhurried the little Princess off to Coventry, as a safer place than hisown house, for Coventry was determinately Protestant and loyal.Elizabeth, afterwards well known as the Queen of Bohemia, was deeplyimpressed and horrified with the terrible discovery.
"What sort of a queen should I have been," said the true-hearted child,"when I had won to my throne through the blood of my father and mybrothers? Thanked be God that it was not so!"
The metropolis was passing through a ferment of delight, amazement, andactivity. Everywhere in the streets bonfires were blazing,--the firstof those Gunpowder Plot bonfires which every fifth of November has seenafter them.
A watch was set on Percy's house in Holborn, and his wife was guarded.A priest named Roberts was taken in the house. Mrs Martha Percyappears to have been a fitting mate for a conspirator. She put on anaffectation of the sublimest innocence. How should she know anything?she who lived so quietly, and was entirely occupied in teaching her ownand other children. As to her husband, she had not seen him sinceMidsummer. He was attendant on my Lord of Northumberland, and lodged,as she supposed, in his house. Having thus lulled to sleep thesuspicions of those set to watch her, the next morning Mrs Percy wasnot to be found. Whether she slipped through a door, or climbed out ofa window, or went up the chimney on a broomstick, there was no evidenceto show; but three days later she made her appearance at Norbrook Housein Warwickshire, the residence of her eldest brother, John Wright, andwas affectionately received by her sister-in-law.
At Westminster, Lord Chief-Justice Popham and Sir Edward Coke sat injudicial ermine, and summoned before them two prisoners--Gideon Gibbonsthe porter, and the clever gentleman who called himself John Johnson,and whose real name was Guy Fawkes.
Gibbons was soon disposed of, for he was as innocent as he seemed to be.All that he could say was that he had been hired, in his usual way ofbusiness, with two other porters, to carry three thousand billets ofwood to the Parliament House, and that Mr Percy's servant Johnson hadstacked them in the cellar. The key of the house next door had been attimes left in charge of his wife. So much he knew, and no more.
The examination of "John Johnson" was another matter. The King himselfhad drawn up a paper containing questions to be put to him, and heanswered these and all others with an appearance of perfect franknessand wish to conceal nothing. His replies were in reality a mixture oftruth and falsehood, which was afterwards proved.
The catechism began as usual, "What is your name?"
"John Johnson." To this he adhered through two more examinations.
"How old are you?"
"Thirty-six." This was true.
"Where were you born?"
"In Netherdale, in the county of York."
"How have you lived hitherto?"
"By a farm of thirty pounds a year."
"How came those wounds in your breast?"
"They are scars from the healing of a pleurisy."
The treatment of pleurisy in the seventeenth century was apparentlyrather severe.
Fawkes went on to reply to the articles demanded, that he had neverserved any man but Percy--though he had been in the service of AnthonyBrowne, Lord Montague, a few months before: that he obtained Percy'sservice "only by his own means, being a Yorkshire man"; that he hadlearned French in England, and increased it when abroad; that he wasborn a Papist, and not perverted--which was false.
Being asked why he was addressed as "Mr Fauks" in a letter (as healleged) from Mrs Colonel Bostock, which was found in his pocket, Mr"Johnson" replied with the coolest effrontery, that it was because hehad called himself so in Flanders, where Mrs Bostock resided. Thisletter was subsequently discovered to come from Anne Vaux.
Thus far went King James's queries: in respect of which the King desired"if he will no other ways confesse, the gentle tortours to be first usedunto him, _et sic per gradus ad ima tenditur_; and so God speede yourgood work!"
It was not, however, necessary to urge a confession: Mr Percy's manseemed anxious to make a clean breast of it, and promised to telleverything. He proceeded accordingly to lead his examiners astray by alittle truth and a good deal of falsehood. He gave a tolerably accurateaccount of the hiring of the house and the cellar, the bringing in ofthe powder, etcetera, except that he refrained from implicating any onebut himself. There was, at first, a certain air of nobility aboutFawkes, and he sternly refused to become an informer. He declined toadmit his summer journey abroad, and would not allow that the springexcursion had any other object than "to see the country and pass awaythe time."
"What would you have done," asked the examiners, "with the Queen and theroyal issue?"
"If they had been there, I would not have helped them."
"If all had gone, who would have been published or elected King?"
"We never entered into that consideration."
"What form of government should have succeeded?"
"We were too few to enter into the consideration. The people themselveswould have drawn to a head." All this was untrue, as Fawkessubsequently allowed. A number of arrests were made, mostly of innocentpersons. All in whose houses the conspirators had lodged. MrsHerbert, Mrs More, the tailor Patrick; Mrs Wyniard, Mrs Bright, andtheir respective servants; Lord Northumberland's gentlemen, and the Earlhimself, were put under lock and key. The poor Earl bemoaned himselfbitterly, and entreated that Percy might be searched for--"who alonecould show him clear as the day, or dark as the night." He assertedthat Percy had obtained money from him by falsehood: and seeing howexquisitely little value most of these worthy gentlemen seem to have setupon truth, it was not at all unlikely. Lady Northumberland wrote animpulsive letter to Lord Salisbury, entreating him to stand her friendby "salving" her husband's reputation, "much wounded in the opinion ofthe world by this wretched cousin": but the only result of the appealwas to make the Lord Treasurer angry, and give rise to an intercessionin her behalf from her lord and master, who begs Salisbury to "bear withher because she is a woman," and therefore "not able with fortitude tobear out the crosses of the world as men are: and," adds the Earlhumorously, "she will sometimes have her own ways, let me do what I can,which is not unknown to you." [Note 1.]
The prisoners were remanded, and the great metropolis slept: but therewas no sleep for those bemired and weary horsemen who pressed on thatnight journey to Norbrook. Where Grant joined them is not recorded, butHumphrey Littleton had left them at Dunchurch. His share in the plothad been insignificant, but we shall hear of him again. Catesby, JohnWright, and Percy, who rode in front, beguiled their journey by adiscussion as to how they could procure fresh horses. They wereapproaching Warwick, and it was proposed that Grant and some of theservants should be sent on in front, with instructions to make a raid ona livery-stable in the town, kept by a man named Bennock, and seize asmany horses as they could get.
Robert Winter, riding behind, saw the men sent on, and pressing forwardto the front, inquired the meaning of it. When told the intention, hecombated it strongly, and did his best to dissuade Catesby from it. Theman who had swallowed the camel of the Gunpowder Plot was scandalised atthe idea of horse-stealing! [Note 2.]
"I pray you, no more of this!" said Robert Winter. "It will but furtherincrease the wrath of the King."
"Some of us may not look back," said Catesby.
Robert replied with some spirit, for he knew himself to be among theless guilty of the plotters. "Yet others, I hope, may; and therefore, Ibeg you
, let this alone."
Catesby looked up with a faint, sad smile, and tired sleepless eyes."What, hast thou any hope, Robin? I assure thee, there is none thatknoweth of this action but shall perish."
When the body of the conspirators reached Warwick, about 3 a.m., thehorses were almost ready for them to mount. Ten were seized at the thelivery-stable, and a few more were either stolen or borrowed from theCastle. Thus provided, and now about eighty in number, they rode on toGrant's house at Norbrook. On arrival here, they despatched Bates toCoughton, with a letter to Garnet from Digby. This letter was read byGarnet to Greenway, both of whom are represented by Bates as spotlesslyignorant of the plot until that moment. Greenway returned with Bates,at his earnest request, attired in "coulored satten done with gouldlace," and was met by Catesby with the exclamation--
"Here is a gentleman who will live and die with us!"
From Norbrook Robert Winter despatched a servant in advance, summarilyordering his wife to "go forth of the house, and take the children withher," which the obedient Gertrude did. About two o'clock on theafternoon of the sixth, thirty-six worn-out men arrived at Huddington,to be re-armed from Robert Winter's armoury; after which, findinghimself rather at a loss in the housekeeping department, the master ofthe house recalled his Gertrude to minister to the comfort of himselfand his guests.
That submissive lady did her duty, and leaving the children with theneighbour at whose house she had taken refuge, returned to her ownkitchen to superintend a hastily-prepared supper for the wearytravellers. Before this was ready, Catesby and John Wright took RobertWinter aside, and tried hard to induce him to write to hisfather-in-law, attempting to draw him into the now almost hopelessrebellion.
"There is no remedy, Robin," said John Wright, "but thou must write aletter to thy father Talbot, to see if thou canst therewith draw himunto us."
"Nay, that will I not," was the determined answer.
"Robin, you must," said Catesby.
"My masters, ye know not my father Talbot so well as I," replied RobinWinter. "All the world cannot draw him from his allegiance. Neitherwould I if I could, in this case. What friends hath my poor wife andchildren but he? And therefore, satisfy yourselves; I will not."
"Well, then," suggested Wright, "write as we shall say unto thee toMaster Smallpiece, that serves thy father Talbot."
Robert Winter, who liked an easy life, suffered himself to be persuadedon this point; and wrote the letter, of which all that now remains is afew half-burnt lines, written in great haste, and barely legible:
"Good Cousin, I fear it will not seem strange to you that--a good numberof resolved Catholics so perform matters of such... will set their moststrength, or hang all those that ever... use your best endeavour to stirup my father Talbot... which I hold much more honourable than to behanged after... Cousin, pray for me, I pray you, and send me all suchfriends... haste, I commend you. From Huddington, this 6th ofNovember."
"R..."
Having written this letter, Mr Robert Winter proceeded, not to forward,but to pocket it, and declined to give it up until the next morning,when he resigned it, "to stop a peace withal."
Late in the evening of the 6th, the conspirators were joined by StephenLittleton and Thomas Winter, the latter of whom had not been able toovertake them any sooner. Before daybreak on the following morning,they assembled in the private chapel of Huddington House, where mass wassung by the family confessor, Mr Hammond, and the Sacrament wasadministered to all present after due confession. Then, leavingHuddington about sunrise, they recommenced their weary flight.
They were now "armed at all points in open rebellion," yet with daggersand guns only. Instead of continuing their course, as hitherto,directly westward, they turned towards the north, and made for HewellGrange, the residence of Lord Windsor, where they plundered the armoury.The company had much decreased: one and another every now and thendropped off stealthily, doubtful of what was coming, though Catesby andSir Everard rode pistol in hand, warning them that all who sought tosteal away would be shot without quarter. Percy, Grant, John Wright,and Morgan, were placed behind for the same purpose. As the party rodetowards Hewell Grange, they asked all whom they met to join them. Theusual response was--
"We are for King James; if you go for him, then will we have with you."
To this the conspirators were wont to reply--"We go for God and thecountry."
But the shrewd Worcestershire peasants declined to commit themselves toanything so vague as this.
At last they came to an old countryman, to whom they addressed theircustomary appeal. The old man planted his staff firmly in front of him,and set his back against a wall.
"I am for King James," he said, "for whom I will live and die."
Upon this the disloyalty of the company was plainly manifested by shoutsof "Kill him! kill him!" But there was no time to stop for that, whichprobably saved the brave old loyalist's life.
Upon leaving Hewell, the conspirators rode up to the houses of all theRoman Catholic gentry in the neighbourhood, and summoned their owners tojoin them for God and the Church. But sore disappointments met them onevery side. From door after door they were driven with horror andcontumely--were openly told that "they had brought ruin on the Catholiccause."
"Not one man came to take our part," is their lament, "though we hadexpected so many." To add to their misery, the rain began to pour downin torrents; one after another deserted them as they fled: and when atlast in the darkness the heath was passed, and Holbeach House wasreached, instead of the gallant company of eighty well-accoutred troopswho had left Norbrook the morning before, there crept into thecourt-yard only eighteen wet and weary men, who had lost all, includinghonour.
Holbeach House was about two miles from Stourbridge, and was the home ofStephen Littleton, one of the latest to join the plot. Here theworn-out men slept--the last sleep for some of them.
So weary and worn-out were they, that they sank to sleep just as theywere, in the dining-room--some pillowing their heads on the table,others casting themselves on the floor. At this very unsuitable moment,it seemed good to Mr John Winter to inquire of Percy what he meant todo. [Note 3.]
Percy, in extremely somnolent tones, answered that he intended to go on.
"Ay, but how and whither?" responded Thomas Winter, as wide awake as heusually was in all senses.
"If you have e'er a plan in your head, out with it," replied Percy."Just now, I've no head to put one in."
"If you will hearken to me," said Thomas, "you will now despatch Robin'sletter to my cousin Smallpiece."
"What to do?"
"`What to do'!--to win his aid. He is as true a Catholic as any of us."
"Ay, he's Catholic, but he is very timorous. He has no mind to behanged, trust me."
"Have you?"
"I should stand to it better than he. Then you'll meet old MasterTalbot, who shall kick you forth ere you have time to say, `An't pleaseyou.'"
"I'll have a care of that. Steenie, wilt have with me?"
Mr Stephen Littleton had to be awoke before he could answer thequestion. As soon as he understood what was demanded of him, heprofessed his readiness to accompany anybody anywhere in the future, solong as he might be let alone to finish his nap at the present. Beforeanother sentence had been uttered, he reverted to an unconscious state.
Suddenly Sir Everard sprang up.
"Mr Catesby, methinks I shall best serve you if I go to hasten thesuccours. What think you?"
"If you will," said Catesby, for once a little doubtfully.
Ten minutes later, one of the least wearied horses in the group carriedhim away.
There were troops on their way to Holbeach, but it was not for succour.Sir Richard Walsh, the Sheriff, Sir John Folliott, a few gentlemen, anda party of the King's troops, with all the force of the county, were onthe track of the wretched fugitives. They had chased them fromNorthamptonshire into Warwickshire, from Warwickshire intoWorcestershire, and now they were approa
ching their last refuge inStaffordshire.
It was still dark on the Friday morning, when Thomas Winter and StephenLittleton rode to Pepperhill, where old Mr Talbot was at that time.Robert declined to accompany them, and Bates excused himself. To obtainsight of Mr Smallpiece, without being seen by Mr Talbot, was thedelicate business on which they were bent. Leonard Smallpiece seems tohave been an agent or bailiff of Mr Talbot, and a relative of theWinters; he was "exceeding popishe, but very timorous." [Note 4.] Thepair of worthies settled that Stephen should remain outside in charge ofthe horses, while Winter tried to effect safe entrance. They rode up tothe yard door, and having dismounted, were about to investigatepossibilities, when without any warning the doors were flung open, andthe sturdy old loyalist owner appeared behind them.
"How dare you come hither?" was his fierce greeting to the unwelcomevisitors, "considering what speech there is of your tumultuous rising."
"Sir," answered Winter, deprecatingly, "my meaning was not to speak withyou, but with one in your house; and I am very sorry I have met withyou."
"So am I, too!" said John Talbot. "Your coming may be as much as mylife is worth. It is very fit you should be taken."
"I shall not easily be taken," was the reply.
"Fare you well! Get you away!" answered Talbot, as he slammed the gatein Winter's face.
They came to the conclusion that discretion would be the better part ofvalour, and retraced their steps to Holbeach. Here Stephen went intothe house, leaving Winter outside. The former found his friends verybusily engaged in making preparations for resistance, for they had nowdetermined that at Holbeach their last stand should be made. Theirgunpowder, like themselves, had been soaked in the rain, the Stour beingextremely high, and the cart which they had stolen from Hewell Grange avery low one. Catesby, Rookwood, and Grant, applied themselves to thedrying of the powder. They laid about sixteen pounds of it in a linenbag on the floor, and heaping about two pounds on a platter, placed itin the chimney-corner to dry by the fire. A servant entering to putfresh logs on the fire, was not sufficiently careful of the platter. Aspark flew out, lighted on the powder, and it exploded. Part of theroof was blown off, the linen bag was carried through the hole thusmade, and afterwards taken up uninjured in the court-yard: but the threepowder-dryers, with Henry Morgan, were severely injured both in face andbody. In the same pit that they had dug privily, was their own foottaken.
When the conspirators thus beheld themselves "hoist with their ownpetard," the first feeling among them was less fear for their safetythan awe at the just judgment of God. The most guilty among them werealso the most horrified. For a moment those nearest the powder weresupposed to be killed. John Wright lost his head, flung himself on whathe believed to be the corpse of his leader, with a wild cry--
"Woe worth the time that we have seen this day! Bring me the powder!bring me the powder, that I may set it afire, and blow up ourselves andthis house together!"
Rookwood rushed to a picture of the Virgin, and throwing himself on hisknees, confessed "that the act was so bloody that he desired God toforgive him;" in which prayer he was joined by some of the others.Catesby himself lost his firmness, and on recovering himself, gasped outhis fear that God disapproved of their project. Robert Winter andGreenway fled in terror--so far that they never came back. StephenLittleton went off also, but he waited long enough to send a message toThomas Winter, who had not yet come in.
"Tell him to fly," said the valiant Stephen, "and so will I."
Whatever else Thomas Winter was, he was loyal to his oath and to hisfriends.
"His honour rooted in dishonour stood, And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true."
He supposed the news to mean that Catesby was killed.
"Nay," said he; "I will first see the body of my friend and bury him,whatsoever befall me."
Returning to the house, Winter found his friends decidedly alive and"reasonable well."
"What resolve you to do?" he asked them.
"We mean here to die," was the answer.
"Well!" replied Winter, "I will take such part as you do."
And John Wright said, "I will live and die among you."
Not long afterwards, about noon, the Sheriff and his troops surroundedHolbeach House. After several ineffectual summonses to surrender, andthe reading of a proclamation in the King's name bidding the rebels tosubmit themselves, which met only with blunt refusals, the Sheriff firedthe house, and led an attack upon the gates. The conspirators who wereleft showed no lack of courage. They walked out into the court-yard,set the gate open, and took up their stand in front of it, Catesby inthe middle, with Percy and Thomas Winter on either side. At the firstassault, an arrow from a cross-bow had struck Winter in the shoulder,and rendered his right arm useless. The second shot struck John Wright,the third Christopher Wright, the fourth Rookwood. The two Wrightsfell, and were supposed to be dead.
"Stand by me, Tom," said Catesby to Winter, "and we will die together."
"Sir," was the answer, "I have lost the use of my right arm, and I fearthat will cause _me_ to be taken."
They were the last words of Robert Catesby. The next bullet passedclean through his body, and lodged in that of Percy at his side.Catesby fell, mortally wounded. He had just strength to crawl on hishands and knees into the vestibule of the house, where stood an image ofthe Virgin: and clasping it in his arms, he died.
Percy sank down, also wounded to death; he expired the following day.John Wright, recovering somewhat from his wound, called to Bates, anddelivered him a bag of money, entreating him to fly and take it to MrsWright at Norbrook. Winter was seized; Grant, Rookwood, and Morgan,yielded themselves to the Sheriff: but the exasperated mob, rushing in,while the Sheriff's men were lifting one of the wounded, seized upon theothers, stripped and ill-used them, until wounds which might possiblyhave been healed were past cure. John and Christopher Wright died intwo or three days.
One or two fugitives were brought into Holbeach later; five werearrested at Stourbridge, Sir Everard Digby at Dudley. Bates succeededin making good his escape with the bag, and reached Wolverhampton in thenight. His wife Martha, who lived at Ashby, hearing a false rumour ofhis capture and imprisonment in Shrewsbury Gaol, went to see him, andboth stayed for the night in the same inn at Wolverhampton, neither ofthem knowing the nearness of the other. Bates, finding himself unableto reach Lapworth, and with no hope of escaping finally, delivered thebag of money to a friend to convey to Martha, and departed, not wishingto endanger his friend. He then went to Oldfield, in Shropshire, to thehouse of his cousin, Richard Bates, by whom having been betrayed, he wasapprehended, and brought to London. By his confession on hisexamination, Garnet and Greenway were implicated, though Bates tried hisbest to prove them innocent.
Sir Richard Walsh conveyed his prisoners to Worcester, where he occupiedhimself in taking their examinations, and sending the informationobtained to the Lords of the Council. Sir Richard Verney was sent toscour the country on the recent track of the fugitives, and to arrestthe relatives and servants of every one of them. John Winter, GertrudeWinter at Huddington, Ludovic Grant at Dudley, Dorothy Grant atNorbrook, and at Lapworth John Wright's wife Dorothy, and Christopher'swife Margaret; Ambrose Rookwood's wife, and her sister; and ThomasRookwood of Claxton, at Bidford, were all gradually added to the group.Mrs Dorothy Grant, whether from fright or loquacity, proved very candidin answering questions, and from her they learned that the missingMartha Percy was "not far off." Sir Richard Verney, however, found itno easy matter to keep his prisoners when he had got them. Twice hishouse was set on fire, evidently by design; but he held stoutly to thelively ladies in his care, and delivered them all safely in London indue time.
We must now, for a short time, follow the two conspirators who hadescaped in company, and whose wanderings are not devoid of interest.Robert Winter and Stephen Littleton got safely away from Holbeach, thusevading the miserable fate of their fellow-conspirators. They succeededin reachin
g the house of a certain Christopher White, a servant ofStephen's cousin, Humphrey Littleton, who lived in the village of King'sRowley. This man they bribed to allow them to remain in his barn untilthe search for the fugitives should have ceased, when they promised togive him a substantial reward, and no longer to endanger him by theirpresence. "There they abode a great while, but with very poor andslender fare, such as otherwise had been too coarse and out of fashionfor them." A proclamation was meanwhile set forth by Government fortheir discovery, wherein Robert Winter was described as "of meanstature, rather low than otherwise; brown hair and beard, not muchbeard, short hair; somewhat stooping, square made, near forty." StephenLittleton was "a very tall man; swarthy complexion, no beard or little,brown coloured hair; about thirty." A neighbour of White's, namedSmart, and apparently smart by nature as well as name, noticed theunusual evidences of prosperity in his neighbour's dwelling, andshrewdly surmised the reason. Upon due consideration of the subject,Mr Smart, like a good many people both before and after him, came tothe conclusion that it was highly unreasonable that his neighbour shouldbe mounting the social ladder when he remained at the bottom. Hetherefore applied himself to the matter, discovered the refugees in thebarn, and strongly recommended his barn as far preferable to White's.The fugitives were persuaded to change their hiding-place. This was nosooner done, than another neighbour, named Hollyhead, set his wits alsoto work, and dulcetly represented that Smart's barn was a much less safeand attractive locality than his house: each of these worthy individualsbeing of course moved by respect to the pecuniary reward for which hehoped. On the departure of his guests, White took fright and fled:which caused "much rumour to be blabbed abroad" concerning the vainsearch and the probable vicinity of the fugitives. Humphrey Littleton,who was in the secret, began to be alarmed, and removed his friends fromHollyhead's house to that of a man named John Perks, in the village ofHagley, close to Hagley Park, the residence of his widowedsister-in-law. It was before dawn on New Year's Day that they reachedthe cottage of Perks, a warrener or gamekeeper, who had been dismissedfrom Mrs Littleton's service for dishonesty. The wearied men knockedat his door; and when Perks came forth, said they were friends, andbegged him to help them to food and shelter.
"Ye be Mr Stephen Littleton, and Mr Winter," said Perks.
"We are so," they admitted. "Pray you, Goodman, grant us meat andlodging till we be fit for journeying; and when we can travel, thenshall you bring us to London, and have a great reward from the King fortaking us, we being willing to die, and not live any longer in somiserable a condition."
If Mr Perks's eyes glistened as this distant prospect of a great rewardwas held out to him, they grew yet more radiant when Humphrey Littletoncounted into his hand thirty golden sovereigns, twenty into that of hisman, and seventeen to his sister. Perks led the way to his barn, wheremounting on a barley mow, he formed a large hole in its midst, and herethe unhappy gentlemen were secreted, food being brought to them by Perksas occasion served, by his sister Margaret, or at times by his man,Thomas Burford. Here they might have remained in safety for aconsiderable time without fear of discovery, had not Mr Perksentertained rather too close an affection for barley in another formthan heaped up in a barn--namely, in company with hops and water. MrPerks had a friend, named Poynter, who liked beer and rabbits quite aswell as himself; and one winter night, nine days after the fugitives hadbeen hidden in the mow, these worthies set forth on a poachingexpedition. Returning home somewhat late, and "well tippled in drink,"it occurred to Mr Poynter that it would save him a walk home if hisfriend Perks were to lodge him for the night. The latter, however, didnot see the circumstance in that light, and a tipsy altercationfollowed, which was ended by Perks "shaking off" Poynter, and staggeringhome by himself. The night was cold and wet, and Mr Poynter's temperwas scarcely so cool as the atmosphere. He was tipsily resolved that hewould have a lodging at Perks's expense, whether that gentleman would ornot; and bethinking himself that if Perks's house were locked againsthim, his barn was not, he took thither his unsteady way, and scramblingup the barley mow, to his own unfeigned astonishment dropped into thehole on the top of the sleeping conspirators.
Thus roused suddenly in the dead of night, and naturally concluding thattheir enemies were upon them, Winter and Littleton sprang up to defendthemselves, and to sell their lives dearly. Poynter, who was quite asmuch amazed and terrified as they could be, as naturally fought for hisown safety, and a desperate struggle ensued. It ended in the twoovercoming the one, and insisting on his remaining with them, so thatthey could be certain of his telling no tales. For four days Poynterremained on the mow, professing resignation and contentment, andlamenting the sore pain which he suffered from a wound in the leg,received in the pursuit of his vocation as a rabbit-stealer. WhenMargaret Perks came with food, and afterwards Burford, Poynter pretendedto be in mortal anguish, and besought them earnestly to bring him somesalve, without which he was quite certain he should die. The salve wasbrought, and the wily Poynter then discovered that lying in the hole hehad not sufficient light to apply it. He was suffered to creep up onthe top of the mow, which he professed to do with the greatestdifficulty. But even there the light was scarcely sufficient: might hedrag himself a little nearer the door? Being now quite deceived by MrPoynter's excellent acting, and believing that he was much too sufferingand disabled to escape, they permitted him to crawl quite to the edge ofthe mow nearest to the light, and of course next to the door. Themoment this point was reached, the disabled cripple slipped down fromthe mow, and the next instant was out of the door and far away, runningwith a fleetness which made it hopeless to think of following him.
There was still, however, some room for that hope which springs eternalin the human breast. Poynter's friendship for Perks, and theexpectation that Perks could bribe him to secrecy, weighed with thefugitives, who had not sufficiently learned that the friendship of anunprincipled man is worth nothing.
Poynter, on the other hand, considered his chances superior in theopposite direction. He made at once for Hagley Hall, intending to tellhis story there; but on the way he met with Perks, who was ignorant ofPoynter's recent adventure; and that gentleman suggesting a joint visitto the nearest tavern, Poynter easily suffered his steps to be divertedin that attractive direction. The precious pair of friends dranktogether, and departed to their respective homes.
Now, Mistress Littleton, the lady of Hagley Park, was a Protestant, anda gentlewoman of extreme discretion; and the day on which Poynter thusmade his escape from the hay-mow had been chosen by her to commence ajourney to London. Before her departure, she summoned her steward, MrHazelwood, and desired him to be circumspect during her absence, "owingto the mischances happening in the county."
Mistress Littleton having ridden forth on her journey, her worthybrother, Mr Humphrey, commonly called Red Humphrey, who certainly didnot share the discretion of his sister, determined to play the mouseduring the absence of his cat, and to convey his traitor-friends intohis own chamber at Hagley Park. There is reason to think that MistressLittleton was not only a sagacious but also a somewhat managing dame,who rode Red Humphrey with a tighter curb than that reckless individualapproved. Accordingly, having heard of Poynter's escape, and taking oneperson only into his confidence, he repaired to the barn about eleveno'clock that night, and smuggled his cousin and friend away from thebarley mow into the pleasanter shelter of his own room in Hagley Park.The one person thus selected as Humphrey's confidant, was John Fynwoodor Fynes, alias "Jobber," also known as John Cook, from the office whichhe bore in the household. Humphrey had brought him up, and when come tosuitable age, had induced his sister-in-law to engage him as cook: hetherefore expected this man, being thus beholden to him, to remainfaithful to his interests. But there was another person whose interestswere considerably dearer to John Cook, and that was himself.
The trio reached Master Humphrey's chamber in safety, aided by JohnCook. Robert Winter turned round as he entered, and grasped the cook'shand.
"Ah, Jack!" said he, "little wots thy mistress what guests are now inher house, that in so long a space did never so much as look upon afire!"
"Welcome, heartily!" answered Humphrey, motioning to his guests toapproach nearer to the cheerful hearth. "Jack, lad, the time being thuslate, canst kill some hen or chickens about the house, to serve and fitthe present occasion withal? I will recompense it to thee afterward."
Jack readily undertook the commission, and brought up a very appetisingdish with great diligence and promptness.
"Master," said he, "you shall need drink, and the butler is in bed; tocall on him for the key might rouse suspicion. Pray you, shall I run inthe town to my mother, and fetch you drink from thence?"
"So do, honest Jack, and hie thee back quickly. See, here is a testerfor thee."
Honest Jack picked up the tester, and disappeared.
It does seem strange, considering the danger which was thus run, thatthe fugitives should not have been satisfied to drink water with theirsupper, since even thus they would have fared much better than they haddone for some time past. But in truth, the very idea of drinking waterwas foreign to men's minds in those days, except in the light of a verycruel hardship, and about the last strait to which a starving man couldbe reduced.
The mother of Jack kept a small tavern in the village. Thither he ranto fill his jug, and to pour into the ears of the hostess theinteresting fact that the traitors then sought for by the King'sproclamation were at that moment entertained in Master Humphrey'schamber at Hagley Park.
"Pray you, Mother," he added, "when morning breaketh, raise the town totake them, for I fear lest I may not, unsuspected, get forth again to doit."
Having made which little arrangement, honest Jack and his jug returnedto the Park, where the trio of traitors finished their supper, andproceeded to sleep three in a bed.
To make assurance doubly sure, Jack rapped at Mr Hazelwood's door, andbestowed upon him the same interesting information already given to MrsFynwood.
The morning being come, the cook paid another visit to his prisoners,whom he found nearly dressed, and looking out of the window to see themeaning of the noise they heard, which was in fact the arrival of theSheriff's officer and his men. Even then, so complete was theirconfidence in Jack, that they never imagined themselves betrayed, andHumphrey, having stowed his friends for more complete security in acloset-room opening out of his chamber, went down into the hall--and metthe officer of the law.
"Sir, I understand there be in this house certain traitors, so chargedby proclamation of his sacred Majesty, whom you have in keeping."
"Never an one, my master, I do ensure you," answered Humphrey, aslightly as if he spoke the truth: and he cut a large slice from the loafstanding on the table. "Pray you, sit down and break your fast; you arefull welcome, as I am sure my good sister should tell you were she athome. After that ye have eaten, ye shall search the house an' yewill.--See here, Jack Cook! make a good toast for these worthy masters;and thou, David Butler, go up to my chamber for my cup--thou shalt findit on the window-ledge, I think."
Outside, Mr Hazelwood was giving directions for the search, hints beingconstantly supplied to him by the cook as to what transpired within.The butler, David Bate, went to fetch his master's cup, and of coursefound the room empty. As he came to the foot of the back-stair, MasterHumphrey met him.
"Good David, help me to the key of the back-door into the cellar," hesaid in a hurried whisper. "As ever thou wilt do anything for me, sticknow to me, and help save my life."
"Sir, I have not the key," answered the astonished butler. "The brewerhath it."
The brewer was hastily summoned, delivered the key, and was as hurriedlydismissed. Then Humphrey ran up to his closet, brought down hisconcealed guests, and conducted them through the buttery towards thecellar. The butler slipped away from them, and told the officers. Thesituation was now desperate. Inside the house the officers werepursuing them; outside, a crowd, in league with the authorities, wasshouting itself hoarse in execration of them. The wretched men made onelast frantic dash around the house, and Robert Winter and StephenLittleton were arrested in the stable-yard, and prevented from reachingthe neighbouring wood.
But what had become of Red Humphrey? The instant he saw the game wasup, he hurriedly mounted his horse, and eluded his pursuers. But he wasnot to escape much longer. The searching party which Poynter had led tothe barn, disappointed there, scoured the neighbourhood; and atPrestwood the fugitive was taken, and committed to safe custody inStafford Gaol. Even after they were secured, it was no easy matter tocarry the other prisoners to Worcester. While they were "refreshingthemselves" in an alehouse at Hagley--probably the tavern kept by MrsFynwood--a tumult arose among the people outside which almost led totheir rescue; and a few miles from Hagley, Sir Thomas Undirhood and hiscompany overtook the Sheriff, and vainly attempted to gain possession ofthem to take them back to Staffordshire. The Worcestershire men,however, held on grimly to their prize, and at last triumphantly lodgedtheir prisoners in the gaol at Worcester.
The examinations of the culprits in London went on. They were mainlycharacterised by Mr Fawkes's contradictions on every occasion ofsomething which he had previously said; by the addition of a littleinformation each time; and by the very small amount of light that couldbe obtained from any outsiders. On his third examination, Mr "JohnJohnson" owned that his name was Guy Fawkes; that he was born at York,the son of Edward Fawkes, a younger brother, who had left him "but smallliving," which he ran through with equally small delay. He denied onhis conscience that he was in orders, "major or minor, regular orsecular": on which occasion he told the truth. Fawkes added that he didnot now desire to destroy the King.
"It is past," he said, "and I am now sorry for it, for that I nowperceive that God did not concur with it."
He admitted also the design on the Lady Elizabeth, but he still declinedto name his accomplices, and proved obdurate to all attempts--and theattempts were basely made--to persuade him to accuse the prisoners inthe Tower, of whom the chief was Sir Walter Raleigh. The utmost hecould be induced to admit concerning this point was that it had been"under consultation that the prisoners in the Tower should haveintelligence" of the intended plot, and that Raleigh and several othershad been named in this connection.
"We should have been glad to have drawn any, of what religion soever,unto us," he said: "we meant to have made use of all the discontentedpeople of England."
But he would not allow, even to the last, that any communication hadactually been made.
In his fourth examination Fawkes gave the names of those who had been"made privy afterwards," but he still refused to reveal those of theoriginal traitors. He was accordingly put to the torture. Gentle orungentle, this worked its office: and on the ninth of November, afterhalf-an-hour on the rack, Fawkes recounted the names of all hisaccomplices. He made also an admission which proved of considerableimportance--he mentioned a house in Enfield Chase, "where Walley[Garnet] doth lie."
Every examination is signed by the prisoner. To the first he signs"Guido Faukes" in a free, elegant Italian hand, the hand of an educatedman. But it is pitiful to see the few faint strokes which sign thefifth, even the "Guido" being left unfinished. He is supposed to havefainted before the word could be written. The subsequent reports arefully signed, and in a firmer hand; but the old free elegant signaturenever comes again.
That night an unheard-of event occurred at the White Bear. HansFloriszoon was two hours late in coming home.
"My lad!" said Edith, meeting him in the hall, "we feared some ill hadbefallen thee."
"It hath not befallen _me_, Mrs Edith," was the answer; "and may Godavert it from us all! But these men that Aubrey was wont to visit--MrCatesby, Mr Winter, and the rest--are now confessed by the caitiff inthe Tower to have an hand in the plot."
"Aubrey?" The word was only just breathed from Edith's lips.
"I went thither at once, and spake with Aubrey,
whom I found to haveheard nought, and to be very sore troubled touching Mr Winter, whosefriendship I can see hath been right dear unto him. I besought him tolie very close,--not to come forth at all, and if he would communicatewith us these next few days, to send a messenger to me at Mr Leigh's,and not here, for it seemed to me there was need of caution. After atime, if all blow over, there may be less need. Will you tell my LadyLettice, or no?"
"Dear Hans, thou art ever thoughtful and good. Thou hast done verywell. But I think my mother must be told. Better softly now, thanroughly after--as it may be if it be let alone."
Lady Louvaine sat silent for a few minutes after that gentlecommunication had been made. Then she said--
"`The floods lift up themselves, and rage mightily: but yet the Lord,who dwelleth on high, is mightier.' 'Tis strange that it should be somuch harder to trust Him with the body than with the soul! O father,keep my boy from evil!--what is evil, Thou knowest: `undertake for us!'"
On the 23rd of November, one of the prisoners in the Tower escaped thesentence of the law, by an inevitable summons to the higher tribunal ofGod Almighty. Francis Tresham died in his prison cell, retracting withhis last breath, and "upon his salvation," the previous confession bywhich he had implicated Garnet in the Spanish negotiations. It has beensuggested that he was poisoned by Government because he knew too much;but there is no foundation for the charge except the possibility thathis death might have been convenient to the Government, and the factthat they allowed his wife and servant to be with him in his lastillness goes far to disprove this improbable accusation.
The authorities were now engaged in lively pursuit of the new trackwhich Fawkes had indicated to them. A house in Enfield Chase whereGarnet was or might be found, was too appetising a dainty to be lightlyresigned. On the 23rd, they obtained a full confession from ThomasWinter, and the actual name of White Webbs. From this moment WhiteWebbs became their Ultima Thule of hope and expectation.
A poor and mean revenge was taken on the dead Catesby and Percy. Theirbodies were exhumed, and beheaded, and their heads set on the pinnaclesof the Houses of Parliament. The spectators noticed with superstitiousterror that blood flowed from Percy's wound. The authorities seem tohave regarded Percy as the head and front of the conspiracy; they termhim "the arch-traitor." But by the testimony of both Fawkes and Winter,Catesby was the original deviser of the Gunpowder Plot.
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Note 1. Excerpts from Burghley Papers, Additional Manuscript 6178,folios 58, 184.--Lady Northumberland was Dorothy Devereux, daughter ofWalter Earl of Essex and Lettice Knolles, and sister of the famousRobert Earl of Essex, in whose rebellion so many Romanists took part.Poor Lord Northumberland, if innocent, paid dearly for his relationshipto his "wretched cousin," being fined 30,000 pounds, which in 1613 wascommuted to 11,000 pounds. He borrowed 12,000 pounds from Peter Vanloreto discharge the fine, and repaid half of it within a year.
Note 2. The most comical item of this assumption of virtue is thereason, as given by himself, for Mr Rookwood's riding on in advance atthis juncture. "Seeing that he was so well horsed as he was--he havingfifteen or sixteen good bourses--he meant not to adventure himself instealing of any!"
Note 3. "At Holbeach, I demanded of Mr Percy and the rest, _being mostof them asleep_, what they meant to do." (Letter of John Winter,Gunpowder Plot Book, article 110.)
Note 5. For this shot one of the Sheriff's men, named John Streete,received 2 shillings per day up to 1627.