CHAPTER V.
THE CLOSE OF THE REBELLION.
Unable longer to endure the agony occasioned by his scorched visage,Catesby called for a bucket of water, and plunged his head into it.Somewhat relieved by the immersion, he turned to inquire after hisfellow-sufferers. Rookwood having been carried into the open air, had bythis time regained his consciousness; Percy was shockingly injured, hishair and eyebrows burnt, his skin blackened and swollen with unseemlyblisters, and the sight of one eye entirely destroyed; while John Grant,though a degree less hurt than his companions, presented a grim andghastly appearance. In fact, the four sufferers looked as if they hadjust escaped from some unearthly place of torment, and were doomedhenceforth to bear the brand of Divine wrath on their countenances.Seeing the effect produced on the others, Catesby rallied all his force,and treating the accident as a matter of no moment, and which ought notto disturb the equanimity of brave men, called for wine, and quaffed afull goblet. Injured as he was, and smarting with pain, Percy followedhis example, but both John Grant and Rookwood refused the cup.
"Hark 'e, gentlemen," cried Catesby, fiercely, "you may drink or not, asyou see fit. But I will not have you assume a deportment calculated todepress our followers. Stephen Littleton and Robert Winter have baselydeserted us. If you have any intention of following them, go at once. Weare better without you than with you."
"I have no thought of deserting you, Catesby," rejoined Rookwood,mournfully; "and when the time arrives for action, you will find I shallnot be idle. But I am now assured that we have sold ourselves toperdition."
"Pshaw!" cried Catesby, with a laugh that communicated an almostfiendish expression to his grim features; "because a little powder hasaccidentally exploded and blackened our faces, are we to see in theoccurrence the retributive justice of Heaven? Are we to be cast down bysuch a trifle? Be a man, and rouse yourself. Recollect that the eyes ofall England are upon us; and if we must fall, let us perish in a mannerthat becomes us. No real mischief has been done. My hand is as able towield a blade, and my sight to direct a shot, as heretofore. If Heavenhad meant to destroy us, the bag of powder which has been taken up inthe yard, and which was sufficient not only to annihilate us, but to laythis house in ruins, would have been suffered to explode."
"Would it _had_ exploded!" exclaimed John Wright. "All would then havebeen over."
"Are you, too, fainthearted, John?" cried Catesby. "Well, well, leave meone and all of you. I will fight it out alone."
"You wrong me by the suspicion, Catesby," returned John Wright. "I am astrue to the cause as yourself. But I perceive that our last hour is athand, and I would it were past."
"The indulgence of such a wish at such a moment is a weakness," rejoinedCatesby. "I care not when death comes, provided it comes gloriously; andsuch should be your feeling. On the manner in which we meet our fatewill depend the effect which our insurrection will produce throughoutthe country. We must set a brave example to our brethren. Heaven bepraised; we shall not perish on the scaffold!"
"Be not too sure of that," said Grant, gloomily. "It may yet be ourfate."
"It shall never be mine," cried Catesby.
"Nor mine," added Percy. "I am so far from regarding the recent disasteras a punishment, though I am the severest sufferer by it, that I thinkwe ought to return thanks to Heaven for our preservation."
"In whatever light the accident is viewed," observed John Wright, "wecannot too soon address ourselves to Heaven. We know not how long it maybe in our power to do so."
"Again desponding," cried Catesby. "But no matter. You will recover yourspirits anon."
John Wright shook his head, and Catesby, pulling his hat over his browsto hide his features, walked forth into the court-yard. He found, as heexpected, that general consternation prevailed amongst the band. The menwere gathered together in little knots, and, though they became silentas he approached, he perceived they were discussing the necessity of asurrender. Nothing daunted by these unfavourable, appearances, Catesbyharangued them in such bold terms that he soon inspired them with someof his own confidence, and completely resteadied their waveringfeelings.
Elated with his success, he caused a cup of strong ale to be given toeach man, and proposed as a pledge, the restoration of the RomishChurch. He then returned to the house; and summoning the otherconspirators to attend him in a chamber on the ground-floor, they allprayed long and fervently, and concluded by administering the sacramentto each other.
It was now thought necessary to have the damage done by the explosionrepaired, and a few hours were employed in the operation. Evening wasfast approaching, and Catesby, who was anxiously expecting the return ofSir Everard Digby, stationed himself on the turreted walls of themansion to look out for him. But he came not; and, fearing somemischance must have befallen him, Catesby descended. Desirous ofconcealing his misgivings from his companions, he put on a cheerfulmanner as he joined them.
"I am surprised ere this that we have not been attacked," remarkedPercy. "Our enemies may be waiting for the darkness, to take us bysurprise. But they will be disappointed."
"I can only account for the delay by supposing they have encountered SirEverard Digby, and the force he is bringing to us," remarked ChristopherWright.
"It may be so," returned Catesby, "and if so, we shall soon learn theresult."
In spite of all Catesby's efforts he failed to engage his companions inconversation, and feeling it would best suit his present frame of mind,and contribute most to their safety, to keep in constant motion, heproceeded to the court-yard, saw that all the defences were secure, thatthe drawbridge was raised, the sentinels at their posts, and everythingprepared for the anticipated attack. Every half hour he thus made hisrounds, and when towards midnight he was going forth, Percy said to him,
"Do you not mean to take any rest, Catesby?"
"Not till I am in my grave," was the moody reply.
Catesby's untiring energy was in fact a marvel to all his followers. Hisiron frame seemed wholly unsusceptible of fatigue; and even when hereturned to the house, he continued to pace to and fro in the passage inpreference to lying down.
"Rest tranquilly," he said to Christopher Wright, who offered to takehis place. "I will rouse you on the slightest approach of danger."
But though he preserved this stoical exterior, Catesby's breast was tornby the keenest pangs. He could not hide from himself that, to serve hisown ambitious purposes, he had involved many loyal and worthy (till hehad deluded them) persons in a treasonable project, which must nowterminate in their destruction; and their blood, he feared, would restupon his head. But what weighed heaviest of all upon his soul was theprobable fate of Viviana.
"If I were assured she would escape," he thought, "I should care littlefor all the rest, even for Fawkes. They say it is never too late torepent. But my repentance shall lie between my Maker and myself. Manshall never know it."
The night was dark, and the gloom was rendered more profound by a densefog. Fearing an attack might now be attempted, Catesby renewed hisvigilance. Marching round the edge of the moat, he listened to everysound that might betray the approach of a foe. For some time, nothingoccurred to excite his suspicions, until about an hour after midnight,as he was standing at the back of the house, he fancied he detected astealthy tread on the other side of the fosse, and soon became convincedthat a party of men were there. Determined to ascertain their movementsbefore giving the alarm, he held his breath, and drawing a petronel,remained perfectly motionless. Presently, though he could discern noobject, he distinctly heard a plank pushed across the moat, and coulddistinguish in the whispered accents of one of the party the voice ofTopcliffe. A thrill of savage joy agitated his bosom, and he internallycongratulated himself that revenge was in his power.
A footstep, though so noiseless as to be inaudible to any ear less acutethan his own, was now heard crossing the plank, and feeling certain itwas Topcliffe, Catesby allowed him to land, and then suddenly advancing,kicked the plank, on which were two ot
her persons, into the water, andunmasking a dark lantern, threw its light upon the face of a man nearhim, who proved, as he suspected, to be Topcliffe.
Aware of the advantage of making a prisoner of importance, Catesbycontrolled the impulse that prompted him to sacrifice Topcliffe to hisvengeance, and firing his petronel in the air as a signal, he drew hissword, and sprang upon him. Topcliffe attempted to defend himself, buthe was no match for the skill and impetuosity of Catesby, and wasinstantly overpowered and thrown to the ground. By this time, Percy andseveral of the band had come up, and delivering Topcliffe to the chargeof two of the stoutest of them, Catesby turned his attention to theother assailants. One of them got across the moat; but the other,encumbered by his arms, was floundering about, when Catesby pointing apetronel at his head, he was fain to surrender, and was dragged out.
A volley of musketry was now fired by the rebels in the supposeddirection of their opponents, but it could not be ascertained whatexecution was done. After waiting for some time, in expectation of afurther attack, Catesby placed a guard upon the spot, and proceeded toexamine Topcliffe. He had been thrown into a cellar beneath the kitchen,and the two men were on guard over him. He refused to answer any ofCatesby's questions, though enforced by threats of instant death. Onsearching him some letters were found upon him, and thrusting them intohis doublet, Catesby left him, with the strictest injunctions to the menas to his safe custody.
He then proceeded to examine the other captive, and found him somewhatmore tractable. This man informed him that Topcliffe had intended tosteal into the house with the design of capturing the conspirators, or,failing in that, of setting fire to the premises. He also ascertainedthat Topcliffe's force consisted only of a dozen men, so that no furtherattack need be apprehended.
Notwithstanding this information, Catesby determined to be on the safeside, and doubling the sentinels, he stationed one of the conspirators,all of whom had sprung to arms at his signal, at each of the exposedpoints. He then withdrew to the mansion, and examined Topcliffe'spapers. The first despatch he opened was from the Earl of Salisbury,bearing date about the early part of Fawkes's confinement in the Tower,in which the Earl expressed his determination of wringing a fullconfession from the prisoner. A bitter smile curled Catesby's lip as heread this, but his brow darkened as he proceeded, and found that amagnificent reward was offered for his own arrest.
"I must have Catesby captured," ran the missive,--"so see you spare nopains to take him. I would rather all escaped than he did. Hisconfession is of the last importance in the matter, and I rely upon yourbringing him to me alive."
"I will at least balk him of that satisfaction," muttered Catesby. "Butwhat is this of Viviana?"
Reading further, he found that the Earl had issued the same ordersrespecting Viviana, and that she would be rigorously dealt with ifcaptured.
"Alas!" groaned Catesby; "I hope she will escape these inhumanbutchers."
The next despatch he opened was from Tresham, and with a savagesatisfaction he found that the traitor was apprehensive ofdouble-dealing on the part of Salisbury and Mounteagle. He stated thathe had been put under arrest, and was detained a prisoner in his ownhouse; and fearing he should be sent to the Tower, besought Topcliffe touse his influence with the Earl of Salisbury not to deal unfairly withhim.
"He is rightly served!" cried Catesby, with a bitter smile. "Heavengrant they may deal with him as he dealt with us!"
The consideration of these letters furnished Catesby with food for muchbitter reflection. Pacing the room to and fro with uncertain footsteps,he remained more than an hour by himself, and at last yielding to thepromptings of vengeance, repaired to the cellar in which he had placedTopcliffe, with the intention of putting him to death. What was his rageand mortification to find both the guard and the prisoner gone! A doorwas open, and it was evident that the fugitives had stolen to the moat,and, swimming noiselessly across it in the darkness, had securelyeffected their retreat.
Fearful of exciting the alarm of his followers, Catesby controlled hisindignation, and said nothing of the escape of the prisoner to any buthis confederates, who entirely approved of the policy of silence. Theycontinued on the alert during the remainder of the night, and no onethought of seeking repose till it was fully light, and all danger of asurprise at an end.
Day dawned late and dismally. The fog that had hung round the mansionchanged just before daybreak into drizzling rain, and this increased erelong to heavy and drenching showers. Everything looked gloomy anddepressing, and the conspirators were so disheartened, that they avoidedeach other's regards.
Catesby mounted the walls of the mansion to reconnoitre. The prospectwas forlorn and melancholy to the last degree. The neighbouring woodswere obscured by mist; the court-yard and garden flooded with rain; andthe waters of the moat spotted by the heavy shower. Not an object was inview, except a hind driving cattle to a neighbouring farm. Catesbyshouted to him, and the fellow with evident reluctance approaching thebrink of the moat, was asked whether he had seen any troops in theneighbourhood. The man answered in the negative, but said he had heardthat an engagement had taken place in the night, about five miles fromthence, near Hales Owen, between Sir Everard Digby and Sir RichardWalsh, and that Sir Everard's party had been utterly routed, and himselftaken prisoner.
This intelligence was a severe blow to Catesby, as it destroyed the lastfaint hope he had clung to. For some time he continued wrapt in thought,and then descended to the lower part of the house. A large fire had beenkept up during the night in the hall, and the greater part of the bandwere now gathered round it, drying their wet clothes, and conversingtogether. A plentiful breakfast had been served out to them, so thatthey were in tolerably good spirits, and many of them talked loudly ofthe feats they meant to perform in case of an attack.
Catesby heard these boasts, but they fell upon an idle ear. He felt thatall was over; that his last chance was gone; and that the struggle couldnot be much longer protracted. Entering the inner room, he sat down attable with his companions, but he ate nothing, and continued silent andabstracted.
"It is now my turn to reproach you," observed Grant. "You look deeplydepressed."
"Sir Everard Digby is a prisoner," replied Catesby, sternly. "Hiscapture grieves me sorely. He should have died with us."
All echoed the wish.
Catesby arose and closed the door.
"The attack will not be many hours delayed," he said; "and unless thereshould be some miraculous interposition in our behalf, it must end inour defeat. Do not let us survive it," he continued earnestly. "Let usswear to stand by each other as long as we can, and to die together."
"Agreed!" cried the others.
"And now," continued Catesby, "I must compel myself to take somenourishment, for I have much to do."
Having swallowed a few mouthfuls of bread, and drained a goblet of wine,he again visited every part of the habitation, examined the arms of themen, encouraged them by his looks and words, and became satisfied,unless some unlooked-for circumstance occurred to damp their ardour,they would offer a determined and vigorous resistance.
"If I could only come off victorious in this last conflict, I should diecontent," thought Catesby. "And I do not despair of it."
The rain continued till eleven o'clock, when it ceased, and the mistthat had attended it partially cleared off. About noon, Catesby, who wason the look-out from the walls of the mansion, descried a large troop ofhorsemen issuing from the wood. He immediately gave the alarm. The bellwas rung, and all sprang to arms.
By this time the troop had advanced within a hundred yards of thehouse, and Catesby, who had rushed into the court-yard, mounted a turretnear the gate to watch their movements, and issue his commands. Theroyalists were headed by Sir Richard Walsh, who was attended on theright by Sir John Foliot, and on the left by Topcliffe. Immediatelybehind them were Ketelbye, Salwaye, Conyers, and others who hadaccompanied the _posse comitatus_ the day before. A trumpet was thensounded, and a proclamation made in a loud
voice by a trooper,commanding the rebels in the King's name to surrender, and to deliver uptheir leaders. The man had scarcely concluded his speech when he was forever silenced by a shot from Catesby.
A loud and vindictive shout was raised by the royalists, and the assaultinstantly commenced. Sir Richard Walsh directed the attack against thepoint opposite the drawbridge, while Sir John Foliot, Topcliffe, and theothers dispersed themselves, and completely surrounded the mansion.Several planks were thrust across the moat, and in spite of the effortsof the rebels many of the assailants effected a passage.
Catesby drove back the party under Sir Richard Walsh, and with his ownhand hewed asunder their plank. In doing this, he so much exposedhimself that, but for the injunctions of the Sheriff, who commanded hisfollowers not to fire upon him, he must have been slain.
The other rebel-leaders displayed equal courage, and equal indifferenceto danger, and though, as has just been stated, a considerable number ofthe royalists had got across the moat, and entered the garden, they hadobtained no material advantage. Sir John Foliot and Topcliffe commandedthis party, and encouraged them to press on. But such a continued andwell-directed firing was kept up upon them from the walls and windows ofthe mansion, that they soon began to show symptoms of wavering.
At this juncture, and while Topcliffe was trying to keep his mentogether, a concealed door in the wall was opened, and Catesby issuedfrom it at the head of a dozen men. He instantly attacked Topcliffe andhis band, put several to the sword, and drove those who resisted intothe moat. Foliot and Topcliffe with difficulty escaped across the plank,which was seized and pulled over to his own side by Catesby.
But the hope which this success inspired was instantly crushed. Loudshouts were raised from the opposite wing of the mansion, and Catesby tohis great dismay perceived from the volumes of smoke ascending from itthat it was on fire. Uttering an exclamation of rage and despair, hecommanded those with him not to quit their present position, and set offin the direction of the fire.
He found that an outbuilding had been set in flames by a lighted brandthrown across the moat by a trooper. The author of the action was namedJohn Streete, and was afterwards rendered notorious by another feat tobe presently related. Efforts were made to extinguish the conflagration,but such was the confusion prevailing that it was found whollyimpossible to do so, and it was feared that the destruction of the wholemansion would ensue.
Disaster after disaster followed. Another party had crossed the moat,and burst into the court-yard. In the desperate conflict that ensued,Rookwood was shot through the arm, and severely wounded by a pike, andwas borne into the house by one of his followers, whom he entreated tokill him outright, but his request was refused.
Meantime, the drawbridge was lowered, and with loud and exulting shoutsthe great body of the royalists crossed it. Catesby now perceived thatthe day was irretrievably lost. Calling to Christopher Wright, who wasstanding near him, to follow him, and rushing towards the court-yard, hereached it just as the royalists gained an entrance.
In numbers both parties were pretty, well matched, but the rebels werenow thoroughly disheartened, and seeing how matters must end, many ofthem threw down their arms, and begged for mercy. A destructive fire,however, was still kept up on the royalists by a few of the rebelsstationed on the walls of the mansion, under the command of John Wright.
Putting himself at the head of a few faithful followers, Catesby foughtwith all the fury of despair. Christopher Wright was shot by his side.Grant instantly sprang forward, but was cut down by a trooper. Catesbywas too busily occupied to attend to the fate of his companions, butseeing Thomas Winter near him, called to him to come on.
"I can fight no longer," said Thomas Winter. "My right arm is disabledby a bolt from a cross-bow."
"Then die," cried Catesby.
"He _shall_ die--on the scaffold," rejoined Topcliffe, who had heard theexclamation. And rushing up to Thomas Winter, he seized him, andconveyed him to the rear of his party.
Catesby continued to fight with such determined bravery that Sir RichardWalsh, seeing it would be vain to take him alive, withdrew hisrestrictions from his men, and ordered them to slay him.
By this time most of the rebels had thrown down their arms. Those on thewalls had been dislodged, and John Wright, refusing to yield, wasslaughtered. Catesby, however, having been joined by Percy and half adozen men, made a last desperate charge upon his opponents.
In doing this, his sword shivered, and he would have fallen back, butfound himself surrounded. Percy was close behind him, and keepingtogether, they fought back to back. Even in this disabled state, theymade a long and desperate resistance.
"Remember your oath, Percy," cried Catesby. "You have sworn not to betaken to the scaffold."
_The Death of Catesby_]
"Fear nothing," replied Percy. "I will never quit this spot alive."
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when he fell to the groundmortally wounded, and the same shot that had pierced his breast hadlikewise stricken Catesby. It was fired by the trooper, John Streete,who has just been mentioned.
Collecting all his force, Catesby struck a few terrible blows at hisopponents, and, dashing through them, made for the house. Just as hereached the door, which was standing open, his strength failed, and hefell to the ground. In this condition, he dragged himself into thevestibule, where there was a large wooden statue of the Virgin, andclasping his arms around it pressed his lips to the feet of the image.He was followed by Streete, with his drawn sword in one hand and apetronel in the other, prepared to finish his work. But ere he couldreach him, Catesby had expired.
"So," exclaimed Topcliffe, who came up the next moment, with Sir RichardWalsh, "we have been robbed of our prey. The Earl of Salisbury willnever forgive me for this disappointment."
"I am glad I have done it, though," observed Streete. "To kill two suchtraitors with one shot is something to talk of."
"You will be well rewarded for it, no doubt," remarked Topcliffe,sarcastically.
"I care not whether I am or not," rejoined Streete. "I have done myduty, and besides I have avenged my comrade, Richard Trueman, who wasshot by this traitor when he read the proclamation."
"I will take care that your brave action is duly represented to hisMajesty," observed Sir Richard Walsh.
And he failed not to keep his promise. Streete received a pension of twoshillings a day for the rest of his life--no inconsiderable sum in thosedays.
The conflict was now at an end, for though some few of the moredesperate of the rebels continued to struggle after their leaders hadfallen, they were soon disarmed. Sir Richard Walsh and Topcliffe went insearch of the other conspirators, and finding Rookwood and Grant, whothough severely wounded were not dead, lying in the hall, immediatelysecured them. Rookwood on their approach made an effort to plunge hisdagger into his breast, but his hand was stayed by Sir Richard Walsh.
"We shall not go away quite empty-handed," cried Topcliffe. "But theseare sorry substitutes for Catesby.
"Has Catesby escaped?" demanded Grant, faintly.
"Ay, to the other world," replied Topcliffe.
"He has kept his word," groaned Grant.
"He may have escaped some part of his punishment," said Topcliffe,bitterly; "but the worst remains. His quarters will be exposed on everygate in London, and his head on the bridge. As to you, traitors, youknow your doom."
"And are prepared for it," rejoined Grant.
A guard being left over the prisoners, Sir Richard Walsh and Topcliffethen went to see that the other captives were properly secured. Some fewhaving made their escape into the adjoining fields, they were pursuedand recaptured.
The whole of the prisoners were then conveyed to Stourbridge, where theywere lodged in the gaol, after which Sir Richard Walsh despatched amessenger to the Earl of Salisbury and the Lords of the Councilacquainting them with what he had done.