CHAPTER VIII.
HENDLIP.
Garnet proceeded at a rapid pace for some miles before he acquainted hiscompanions whither he was going. He then informed Nicholas Owen, whorode by his side, that he should make the best of his way to HendlipHouse, the seat of Mr. Thomas Abingdon, near Droitwich, inWorcestershire, where he knew that Father Oldcorne and Anne Vaux hadretired, and where he was certain to meet with a friendly reception andprotection. Owen, who was completely in his master's confidence, agreedthat no safer asylum could be found, and they pursued their journey withso much ardour, that early on the following night they arrived within ashort distance of the mansion. Owen was sent forward to reconnoitre, andreturned in about half an hour with Mr. Abingdon, who embraced Garnet,and told him he was truly happy in being able to offer him a retreat.
"And I think it will prove a secure one," he added. "There are so manyhiding-places in the old house, that if it is beset for a year you willscarcely be discovered. Have you heard of the fate of yourconfederates?"
"Alas! no, my son," replied Garnet; "and I tremble to ask it."
"It had better be told at once," rejoined Abingdon. "Catesby, Percy, andthe two Wrights, have been slain in the defence of Holbeach; whileRookwood, Grant, and Thomas Winter, all of whom were severely wounded inthe siege, have been made prisoners, and are now on their way to theTower."
"A fearful catalogue of ills!" exclaimed Garnet.
"It is not yet complete," pursued Abingdon. "Sir Everard Digby has beendefeated, and made prisoner in an attempt to bring additional force tohis friends, and Keyes has been arrested in Warwickshire."
"These are woful tidings truly, my son," returned Garnet. "But Heaven'swill be done!"
He then dismissed his two attendants, to whom he gave a sum of money,together with the steeds, and attended by Nicholas Owen, repaired to thehouse with Mr. Abingdon, who admitted them through a secret door.
Hendlip House, which, unfortunately for the lovers of picturesque andstoried habitations, was pulled down a few years ago, having beenlatterly used as a ladies' boarding-school, was a large and irregularstructure, with walls of immense thickness, tall stacks of chimneys,turrets, oriel windows, and numberless projections, contrived to maskthe labyrinths and secret chambers within. Erected by John Abingdon,father of the proprietor at the period of this history, and cofferer toQueen Elizabeth in the early part of the reign of that princess, it wasfilled with secret staircases, masked entrances, trap-doors, vaults,subterranean passages, secret recesses, and every other description ofhiding-place. An immense gallery surrounded three sides of theentrance-hall, containing on each side a large chimney-piece, surmountedby a shield displaying the arms of the family--_argent_, a bend,_gules_, three eaglets displayed, _or_. Behind each of thesechimney-pieces was a small cell, or "priest's-hole," as it was termed,contrived in the thickness of the wall. Throughout the mansion, thechambers were so sombre, and the passages so numerous and intricate,that, in the words of one who described it from personal observation,the whole place presented "a picture of gloom, insecurity, andsuspicion." Standing on an elevated situation, it commanded the countryon all sides, and could not be approached during the day-time withoutalarm being given to its inmates.
Thomas Abingdon, the owner of the mansion at the period in question, andthe eldest son of its founder, was born at Thorpe, near Chertsey, inSurrey, in 1560. He was educated at Oxford, and finished his studies atthe Universities of Paris and Rheims. A man of considerable taste andlearning, but of a plotting disposition, he became a willing tool of theJesuits, and immediately on his return to England, connected himselfwith the different conspiracies set on foot for the liberation of theimprisoned Queen of Scots. For these offences he was imprisoned in theTower for the term of six years, and only escaped death from the fact ofhis being the Queen's godson, coupled with the estimation in which shehad held his father. On his liberation, he remained perfectly tranquiltill the accession of James, when he became a secret plotter againstthat monarch. His concealment of the two priests, about to be related,occasioned his being again sent to the Tower, and if it had not been forthe intercession of Lord Mounteagle, whose sister he had espoused, hewould have been executed. He was pardoned on condition of never stirringbeyond the precincts of Worcestershire, and he employed his retirementin compiling an account of the antiquities of that county, which he leftbehind him in manuscript, and of which Doctor Nash, its more recenthistorian, has largely availed himself.
With a habitation so contrived, Mr. Abingdon might fairly promise hisguests a safe asylum. Conducting them along a secret passage to achamber of which he alone possessed the key, he left Garnet within it,and taking Owen with him to another place of concealment, returnedshortly afterwards with Anne Vaux and Father Oldcorne. The two prieststenderly embraced each other, and Oldcorne poured forth his tears on hissuperior's shoulder. Garnet next turned to Anne Vaux, between whom andhimself, as has been before mentioned, an affectionate intimacysubsisted, and found her quite overcome by her feelings. Supper was nowserved to Garnet by a confidential servant, and after a few hours spentin conversation with his friends, during which they discussed thedisastrous issue of the affair, and the probable fate of theconspirators, they quitted him, and he retired to rest--but not beforehe had returned thanks to Heaven for enabling him once more to lay downhis head in safety.
On the following morning, he was visited by Mrs. Abingdon, a lady ofconsiderable personal attractions, and Anne Vaux; and when he hadrecovered from the fatigue of his journey, and the anxieties he hadrecently undergone, he experienced great delight in their society. Thechamber he occupied was lighted by a small loop-hole, which enabled himto breathe the fresh air, and gaze upon the surrounding country.
In this way, nearly two months passed on, during which, though rigorousinquiries were made throughout the country, no clue was found by thesearchers to lead them to Hendlip; and the concealed parties began toindulge hopes that they should escape detection altogether. Being inconstant correspondence with her brother, Lord Mounteagle, though shedid not trust him with the important secret of the concealment of thepriests, Mrs. Abingdon ascertained all that was done in reference to theconspirators, whose trials were now approaching, and communicated theintelligence to Garnet.
On the morning of the 20th of January, and when long quietude had bredcomplete fancied security in Garnet, Anne Vaux and Mrs. Abingdonsuddenly entered his chamber, and with countenances of the utmost alarm,informed him that Mr. Abingdon's confidential servant had just returnedfrom Worcester, where his master then was, and had brought word thatTopcliffe, armed with a search-warrant from the Earl of Salisbury, hadjust passed through that city on his way to Holt Castle, the residenceof Sir Henry Bromley.
"It appears," said Mrs. Abingdon, "that Humphrey Littleton, who has beenapprehended and condemned to death at Worcester for harbouring hisbrother and Robert Winter, has sought to procure a remission of hissentence by betraying your retreat. In consequence of this, Topcliffehas been sent down from London, with a warrant addressed to Sir HenryBromley, to aid him in searching Hendlip. My husband has givenparticular orders that you are to be removed to the most securehiding-place without delay; and he deeply regrets that he himself cannotreturn till evening, for fear of exciting suspicion."
"Take me where you please, daughter," replied Garnet, who was throwninto great perturbation by the intelligence. "I thought myself preparedfor any emergency. But I was wofully deceived."
"Be not alarmed, father," said Anne Vaux, in an encouraging tone. "Letthem search as long as they will, they will never discover yourretreat."
"I have a strong presentiment to the contrary," replied Garnet.
At this moment, Oldcorne made his appearance, and on learning thealarming news, was as much dismayed as his superior.
After a short consultation, and while the priests were putting asideevery article necessary to be removed, Mrs. Abingdon proceeded to thegallery, and contrived on some plausible pretext to send away the wholeof the domestics
from this part of the house. This done, she hastilyreturned, and conducted the two priests to one of the large fire-places.
A raised stone about two feet high occupied the inside of the chimney,and upon it stood an immense pair of iron dogs. Obeying Mrs. Abingdon'sdirections, Garnet got upon the stone, and setting his foot on the largeiron knob on the left, found a few projections in the masonry on theside, up which he mounted, and opening a small door, made of planks ofwood, covered with bricks, and coloured black, so as not to bedistinguishable from the walls of the chimney, crept into a recesscontrived in the thickness of the wall. This cell was about two feetwide, and four high, and was connected with another chimney at the back,by means of three or four small holes. Around its sides ran a narrowstone shelf, just wide enough to afford an uncomfortable seat. Garnetwas followed by Oldcorne, who brought with him a quantity of books,vestments, and sacred vessels used in the performance of the rites ofthe Church of Rome. These articles, which afterwards occasioned themmuch inconvenience, they did not dare to leave behind.
Having seen them safely bestowed, Mrs. Abingdon and her companion wentin search of provisions, and brought them a piece of cold meat and apasty, together with some bread, dried fruit, conserves, and a flask ofwine. They did not dare to bring more, for fear of exciting thesuspicion of the household. Their next care was to conduct Owen, andOldcorne's servant, Chambers, to a similar retreat in one of the otherchimneys, and to provide them with a scanty supply of provisions and aflask of wine. All this was accomplished without being noticed by any ofthe domestics.
As may be imagined, a most anxious day was passed by all parties.Towards evening, Sir Henry Bromley, the sheriff of the county,accompanied by Topcliffe, and attended by a troop of soldiers, appearedat the gates of the mansion, and demanded admittance. Just at thismoment, Mr. Abingdon rode up, and affecting to know nothing of thematter, saluted Sir Henry Bromley, with whom he was on terms ofintimacy, and inquired his business.
"You are charged with harbouring two Jesuit priests, Fathers Garnet andOldcorne, supposed to be connected with the late atrocious conspiracyagainst the King, Mr. Abingdon," interposed Topcliffe; "and I brought awarrant from the Earl of Salisbury, which I have delivered to Sir HenryBromley, commanding him to search your house for them."
"I was loth to accept the office, Mr. Abingdon," said Sir Henry Bromley,who was a handsome, middle-aged man; "but my duty to my sovereign allowsme no alternative. I trust, though a Catholic, that you share my owndetestation of this diabolical plot, and would not shelter any of itscontrivers, or abettors."
"You judge me rightly, Sir Henry," replied Abingdon, who, meanwhile, hadreceived a private signal from his confidential servant that all wassafe, "I would not. I am just returned from Worcester, where I have beenfor the last two days. Enter my house, I pray you, and search everycorner of it; and if you find a Jesuit priest concealed within it, youshall hang me at my own gate."
"You must be misinformed, sir," observed Sir Henry, who was completelyimposed upon by Abingdon's unconcerned demeanour; "they cannot be here."
"Trust me, they are," returned the other, "and I should like to take himat his word."
Giving directions to the band to environ the house, and guard all itsapproaches, so as to prevent any one from escaping from it, Topcliffetook half-a-dozen men with him, and instructed them how to act. Theyfirst repaired to the great dining-chamber, where, in accordance withthe instructions received from the Earl of Salisbury, Topcliffeproceeded to the further end of the room, and directed his men to breakdown the wainscot. With some difficulty, the order was obeyed, and theentrance to a vault discovered, into which Topcliffe descended but hefound nothing to repay his trouble.
Returning to the dining-chamber, he questioned Mr. Abingdon, whosecretly enjoyed his disappointment, as to the use of the vault, but thelatter professed entire ignorance of its existence. The searchers nextproceeded to the cellar, and bored the floors with a broach to aconsiderable depth, to try whether there were any vaults beneath them,but they made no discovery. Meanwhile Topcliffe hurried upstairs, andexamined the size of the rooms, to see whether they corresponded withthose below; and wherever any difference was observable, he caused thepanels to be pulled down, and holes broken in the walls. In this way,several secret passages were discovered, one of which led to the chamberlately occupied by Garnet.
Encouraged by this discovery, the searchers continued their operationsto a late hour, when they desisted for the night. On the following daythey resumed their task, and Sir Henry Bromley took a general survey ofthe house, both externally and internally, noting the appearancesoutside, and seeing that they corresponded with the rooms within. Thethree extraordinary chimney-pieces in the gallery attracted Topcliffe'sattention; but the contrivances within were so well managed, that theyescaped his notice. He even got into the chimneys, and examined thewalls on either side, but could detect nothing. And, lastly, he orderedlarge fires to be lighted within them, but the experiment provingfruitless, he turned his attention elsewhere.
Mr. Abingdon had attended him during this part of the search, and,though he preserved an unmoved exterior, he was full of apprehension,and was greatly relieved when it was abandoned. In the course of thesame day, two other hiding-places were found in the thickness of thewalls, but nothing was discovered within them. In order to prevent anycommunication with the concealed persons, Topcliffe stationed a sentinelat the door of Mr. Abingdon's chamber, and another at that of Anne Vaux.
On the third day the search was continued more rigorously than ever.Wainscots were taken down; walls broken open; the boards of the floorremoved; and other secret passages, vaults, and hiding-placesdiscovered. Some priests' vestments and articles used in the Romishservice were found in one of these places, and shown to Mr. Abingdon. Heat first denied all knowledge of them; but when Topcliffe broughtforward the title-deeds of his property, which had been found in thesame place, he was obliged to confess he had put them there himself.Still, though these discoveries had been made, the searchers were as farfrom their aim as ever; and Sir Henry Bromley, who began to despair ofsuccess, would have departed on the fifth day, if Topcliffe had notprevented him.
"I am certain they are here," said the latter, "and have hit upon a planwhich cannot fail to bring them forth."
The prisoners meanwhile suffered grievously from their confinement, andhearing the searchers knocking against the walls, and even within thechimney, felt certain they should be discovered. Not being able to standupright, or to stretch themselves within the cell, the sitting posturethey were compelled to adopt became, after a time, intolerably irksome.Broths, milk, wine, and other nutritious fluids, were conveyed to themby means of a reed from the adjoining chimney; but after the fifth daythis supply was stopped, as Mrs. Abingdon and Anne Vaux were compelledby Topcliffe to remove to a different part of the house.
They now began to experience all the horrors of starvation, and debatedwhether they should die where they were, or yield themselves up to theirenemies. Wretched as their condition was, however, it was not so bad asthat of their domestics, Owen and Chambers, whose wants had not been socarefully attended to, and who were now reduced to the most deplorablestate. Nor were their friends less uneasy. Aware that the captives, whomthere was no means of relieving, for the searchers were constantly onthe watch, could not hold out much longer, Mrs. Abingdon consulted withher husband whether it would not be better to reveal theirhiding-places; but this he would not permit.
By this time, every secret chamber, vault, and passage in the place,except the actual retreats of the conspirators, had been discovered byTopcliffe, and though nothing material was found, he felt assured, fromthe uneasiness displayed by Mr. Abingdon and his wife, and above all byAnne Vaux, that it could not be long before his perseverance wasrewarded. Though he narrowly watched the two ladies, from the first, hecould never detect them in the act of conveying food to the captives;but feeling convinced that they did so, he determined to remove them toa different part of the house, and their unwil
lingness to obey the orderconfirmed his suspicions.
"We are sure of our prey now," he observed to Sir Henry Bromley. "Theymust be half-starved by this time, and will speedily surrenderthemselves."
"Pray Heaven they do so!" returned the other. "I am wearied to deathwith my long stay here."
"Have a few hours' patience," rejoined Topcliffe, "and you will findthat your time has not been thrown away."
And he was right. Soon after midnight, a trooper, who was watching inthe gallery, beheld two spectral-looking figures approach him, andappalled by their ghastly appearance, uttered a loud cry. This broughtTopcliffe, who was in the hall below, to his aid, and instantlyperceiving what was the matter, he ran towards the supposed phantoms,and seized them. The poor wretches, who were no other than Owen andChambers, and were well-nigh famished, offered no resistance, but wouldneither confess where they had been hidden, nor who they were. As thetrooper had not seen them come forth, though he affirmed with atremendous oath that they had issued from the floor, the walls wereagain sounded, but with no result.
Food being placed before the captives, they devoured it voraciously; butTopcliffe forbore to question them further that night, feeling confidentthat he could extract the truth from them on the morrow, either bypromises or threats. He was however, mistaken. They continued asobstinate as before, and when confronted with Mr. Abingdon, denied allknowledge of him: neither would they explain how they got into thehouse.
Sir Henry Bromley, however, now considered himself justified in placingMr. Abingdon and his lady under arrest, and Topcliffe redoubled hisexertions to discover the hiding-place of the two priests. He examinedevery part of the gallery most carefully,--took down one of thechimney-pieces, (singularly enough, it was the wrong one,) but was stillunable to discover their retreat.
Meanwhile, the poor wretches inside found it impossible to endure theircondition longer. Anything seemed preferable to the lingering andagonizing death they were now enduring, and they resolved to delay theirsurrender no longer. Had they been able to hold out a few hours more,they would have escaped; for Sir Henry Bromley was so fatigued with thesearch, and so satisfied that nothing further would come of it, that heresolved, notwithstanding Topcliffe's efforts to dissuade him, to departon the morrow. Of this they were ignorant, and having come to thedetermination to surrender, Garnet opened the entrance to the chimney,and hearing voices below, and being too feeble to get out unassisted, hecalled to the speakers for aid. His voice was so hollow, and had such asepulchral sound, that those who heard it stared at each other inastonishment and affright.
"Who calls?" cried one of the troopers, after a pause.
"One of those you seek," replied Garnet. "Come and help us forth."
Upon hearing this, and ascertaining whence the voice came from, one ofthe men ran to fetch Sir Henry Bromley and Topcliffe, both of whomjoyfully obeyed the summons.
"Is it possible they can be in the chimney?" cried Topcliffe. "Why, Imyself have examined it twice."
"We are here, nevertheless," replied Garnet, who heard the remark; "andif you would take us alive, lose no time."
The hint was not lost upon Topcliffe. Casting a triumphant look atBromley, he seized a torch from one of his attendants, and getting intothe chimney, soon perceived the entrance to the recess.
On beholding his prey, he uttered an exclamation of joy, and the twomiserable captives, seeing the savage and exulting grin that lighted uphis features, half repented the step they had taken. It was now,however, too late, and Garnet begged him to help them out.
"That I will readily do, father," replied Topcliffe. "You have given usa world of trouble. But you have made ample amends for it now."
"Had we been so minded, you would never have found us," rejoined Garnet."This cell would have been our sepulchre."
"No doubt," retorted Topcliffe, with a bitter laugh. "But a death on thescaffold is preferable to the horrors of starvation."
Finding it impossible to remove Garnet, whose limbs were so cramped thatthey refused their office, he called to the troopers below to bring aladder, which was placed in the chimney, and then, with someexertion, he succeeded in getting him down. This done, he supported himtowards Sir Henry Bromley, who was standing near a small table in thegallery.
_The Discovery of Garnet and Oldcorne at Hendlip_]
"I told you your time would not be thrown away, Sir Henry," he observed;"here is Father Garnet. It is well you yielded yourself to-night,father," he added, to Garnet, with his customary cynical chuckle; "forSir Henry had resolved to depart to-morrow."
"Indeed!" groaned Garnet. "Help me to a chair."
While this was passing, Oldcorne was brought down by two of thetroopers, and the unfortunate priests were conveyed to an adjoiningchamber, where they were placed in a bed, their stiffened limbs chafed,and cordials administered to them. They were reduced, however, to suchextremity of weakness, that it was not judged prudent to remove themtill the third day, when they, together with their two servants, Owenand Chambers, who were as much enfeebled as themselves, were conveyed toWorcester.