Conspirators, With The Full Clearing Of Some Of The Society Falsely
Accused In This Arraignment.
About(387) this time was discovered unto the Council the place where
Father Garnett was, insomuch as they gave present order for his
apprehension, as I will declare in the next chapter; but it could not be
so soon effected as it was hoped and desired, so that in the meantime,
although they were most desirous to defer the execution of the
conspirators as long as might be, coveting to have found matter in Father
Garnett whereby he might have been joined to them as a party at least, if
not a principal contriver and author of their plot, yet finding his
apprehension not to be speedy, and having no proofs and therefore weak
hopes of proving him guilty, they could not well defer the trial of the
conspirators so long time. Therefore upon the —(388) of January, they were
all carried from the Tower to Westminster Hall by water, being nine in
number: _vidlt._, Sir Everard Digby, Knight, Mr. Robert Winter, Esquire,
Mr. Ambrose Rokewood, Esquire, Mr. John Grant, Esquire, Mr. Thomas Winter,
and Mr. John Winter, brothers unto Robert Winter, Mr. Guido Faulks, Mr.
Robert Keyes, and Thomas Bates, servant to Mr. Robert Catesby, of all
which mention hath been made in the precedent chapters, sufficient both to
declare the quality and conditions of each one of them, unto which I remit
the careful reader, if he be desirous to renew his memory and to join the
consideration of their life with the inspection of their death.
Being brought to Westminster Hall before the Court was ready to sit, they
were staid some half-hour in the Star Chamber, where in that little time
of stay all men did note a great resolution in them, not seeming to fear
or respect either judgment or death itself; nor showing any sign of sorrow
for their attempt, in regard of their intention thereby to have pulled
down heresy and set up the Catholic religion. Their state of mind and
manner of carriage may in part be discerned by that printed pamphlet,
which was presently set forth, entitled _A true report of the
Imprisonment, Arraignment, and Death of the late Traitors_, wherein
although all their particular words and actions were of set purpose left
out, which might sound to their commendation, and many words of contumely
and disgrace heaped upon them and their religion also in the most odious
manner that could be devised; yet even that which is there set down of
them did confirm very many in opinion that they thought themselves clear
from offence to God in the matter, and that they were thereby made the
more willing to suffer for the same cause. For there it is set down “that
they spake little but in commendation of their conceited religion; also,
that they asked no mercy either of God or the King for their offence, but
seemed as though in their conscience they thought the work to be
meritorious; also, that some did seem to enforce a stern look, as if they
would fear death with a frown; also, that they did only pray by the dozens
upon their beads.” Thus they scoff at the iteration of the _Ave Maria_ and
the set number of them which Catholics use in saying their beads. But by
all these it appears they were nothing daunted with that which they
expected, but were well persuaded of their cause, although they knew it
was and would be condemned by the world. All which I do the rather set
down, as well for the verity of the story, as that all men may see how
needful it is even for the best minds to follow counsel, although their
intentions be never so direct; seeing men of so excellent parts ran into
so foul an error, and attempted so dangerous an enterprise against the
whole State, by their own rash and heady courses, against the advice of
their spiritual guides. For if they would have followed the advice of
Father Garnett, they had never fallen into this grievous disorder.
When the Court was set, they were all brought into the hall and placed
upon the scaffold at the bar to answer to their indictments. And, first,
their indictments were read, wherein, as the manner is, their whole
designment was laid open, together with the names and number of the
conspirators, and the beginning and prosecution of the whole Plot, in such
order as hath been before declared out of their confessions, only now they
intermixed many untruths devised of their own head against the Jesuits,
accusing them without any instance of time or place, and without any proof
or witness at all, not only as parties of the conspiracy, but as principal
actors, yea, and authors of the whole Plot. And to this end they did name
those three as principal, whom they had before put in the proclamation,
_vidlt._, Garnett, Tesimond,(389) and Gerard; yet always adding unto them
“and other Jesuits,” whereby it is apparent they meant by degrees to bring
in the whole Company, having no proof against any, more than evil will
suggested. For this was before they came to know that Father Garnett and
Father Tesimond were acquainted with it in that secret manner that they
could not reveal it,(390) at which time both they dissuaded it, and by all
lawful means did labour to hinder it. But here both they and Father Gerard
by name, and other also without name, were accused of it, who never had
the least knowledge or imagination of such a matter. And yet to make the
matter good against them, here they were accused in this indictment, where
none of them were present to answer for themselves; and were joined with
the conspirators who were sure to be convicted and condemned of the fact,
that the Jesuits might also seem to stand convicted and proved guilty with
them; and this not only as partners, but, as I have said, as principal
counsellors and causers of the whole treason. To which end they brought in
in the indictment certain solemn meetings and consultations between the
aforesaid three Jesuits(391) and the principal of these gentlemen,
especially Catesby, Winter, Percy, Faulks, and Wright; at which time these
Jesuits (said the indictment) did persuade those gentlemen that the King
being an heretic stood excommunicate, and therefore might be deposed, and
finally persuaded them that there was no better way to effect that and
restore Catholic religion than to blow up the Parliament House with
gunpowder. All this was there fathered upon the Jesuits, whereof there was
no one word true, as hath already and shall hereafter more apparently be
showed.
And first, the prisoners unto this indictment did all plead not guilty,
which though it be an ordinary course for all to do, until they have
answered for themselves what they can, and then be cast by the verdict of
the jury, yet in their case it was thought strange; they having all
confessed the fact before in their several examinations. It was asked
therefore afterwards of Mr. Guido Faulks, how he could plead not guilty,
being so apparently taken in the place where the powder was laid up, and
with matches and instruments about him for the purpose he intended, and
seeing that also he never denied the fact nor the intention; but had
confessed himself privy to the whole designment and of the most secret
counsel from the beginning. It was much marvelled, therefore, how he
amongst all the rest could plead not guilty; unto which he answered that
he granted all to be true which they now spake of himself; but that he
pleaded not guilty to the indictment, in regard of the meetings and
consultations there alleged between the Jesuits and them, of which he said
he knew nothing nor ever heard of any such counsel or persuasion from
them. Now unto this his speech, which did so clearly discharge the Jesuits
from all the imposed crime, what answer, think you, was given? Truly a
very poor one. Forsooth, that all that was put in for form of law, because
it must be presupposed.
But must untruths be presupposed in the place of justice, where right and
truth stand to be tried from faults and falsehood, as gold and brass
distinguished by the touchstone? And if some consultations must for form
sake be set down before the acts themselves be said to be concluded of or
commenced, yet must the innocent needs be thrust into the number and made
the principals in the parley? Let us suppose the indictment had been drawn
by some lawyers that had been no good friends to the Chief Justice and
Attorney and Solicitor there present, and that their three names had been
put into the indictment instead of the three Jesuits there named, and the
whole matter laid upon their counsel and persuasion; would this have
seemed to them to be just dealing and fit for the place of justice, only
for that such consultations must be presupposed? Well, the time must come
(and God knoweth how soon) when they and all that were the compilers of
that indictment shall stand at the bar in a higher court, where their
indictment will also be read, being already written by themselves in these
their actions, “Eadem enim mensura, quâ mensi fuerint, remetietur
eis.”(392)
(M13) But to proceed in the narration. When the indictment was read, and
they all pleaded not guilty, then according to the custom in such cases,
the King’s Serjeant-at-Law (whose name was Sir Edward Philips) endeavoured
to lay open the indictment that the cause of those that stood indicted
might seem the more odious unto the jury and all the standers-by. After
him Sir Edward Coke, the King’s Attorney-General, began his speech,
wherein first he laboured to excuse the long stay that had been made of
that trial and arraignment of the conspirators, which he supposed many did
marvel to see so long deferred, supposing the grievousness of their fact
and the apparent evidence that was to be brought against them. For excuse
whereof he alleged divers reasons which some of the standers-by thought
very insufficient; as, namely, that Mr. Robert Winter and Mr. Stephen
Littleton were not long before taken. But what if it had been some months
after before they had been apprehended (as it might well have been if by
accident they had not been discovered), should then the execution have
been deferred until their taking? Also he alleged, that if they had made
more haste, they might have hanged Johnson instead of Faulks. But that had
been a small matter, they being sure of the same man, and he of his
punishment, which would have been neither greater nor less to him if he
had received it by a wrong name. If Johnson and Faulks had been two
several men, and then one hanged for the other, such a mistaking of the
men or matter had been indeed an error, and to be prevented with some
longer stay. But Mr. Attorney did not allege that which was the chief
cause of this stay of execution, to wit, an earnest desire to have brought
the Jesuits upon the stage if they could have been proved guilty, as they
did their names into the indictment without any proof at all; yea,
contrary to the published examinations and the now public witness of the
conspirators themselves, as there it appeared. Secondly, Mr. Attorney did
seek to excuse himself to foreign Princes in that he was forced to produce
their names in that odious action, which he said he would not otherwise
have done, but that he was enforced thereunto by the confessions of the
conspirators, which he was to urge against them, and said he, the names of
foreign Princes were so woven into the matter by their confessions, that
they could not conveniently be left out. In all which I must allow of Mr.
Attorney his modesty and care not to offend so great persons, who, though
they were named, yet in no sort accused by any of the conspirators.
(M14) But here in defence of the innocent, we have cause to demand of Mr.
Attorney why he was not also careful to forbear the offence of a much
higher Majesty, that is, of God Himself, by accusing His servants
wrongfully, without any cause at all given by them, or occasion offered by
the confession of the conspirators, in which they were not so much as
named? Yet Mr. Attorney would needs enforce those meetings and
consultations to be true which the indictment had mentioned, and which,
you heard before, the conspirators disclaimed, and in respect thereof did
all plead not guilty: although for their own part, they denied not the
fact, nor the consultations which they had amongst themselves before they
concluded of the matter. Mr. Attorney, notwithstanding, would needs insist
in the same disproved falsehood, and added thereunto another most
egregious untruth, never so much as thought of by the party accused, as he
hath often and most seriously protested to his private and confident
friends, and once in my own hearing. The tale is this: that Father Gerard
did give the oath of secrecy and perseverance in this treason unto the
conspirators, and then heard their confessions and ministered the Blessed
Sacrament unto them. Than which a more false and pernicious slander could
not be raised or reported of any man living, nor more contrary to his very
natural disposition and known manner of proceeding, as all men will answer
for him that are much conversant with him.
But I would ask Mr. Attorney upon what ground he did raise and report this
false surmise? Did any one man ever accuse him of it, or could it be
justly gathered by any little word or tittle of their confessions? They
are printed and published, and I have them now by me whilst I write this.
I have often read them over, and my eyes are not of so quick a sight as to
discern the least cause of surmise leading to any such matter. But perhaps
Mr. Attorney had it by revelation. Certainly he neither had nor brought
any proof at all of so foul an accusation, which had been requisite to a
man of his place. And it had been well he would have considered for his
own credit that which all men know, that if there had been any such thing
confessed by the conspirators, without which he could never know it,
infallibly it would have been set down in their confessions; which I prove
apparently by this reason: Mr. Attorney here affirmeth that he was forced
to speak of other Princes, because their names were so intermixed or woven
(as he termeth it) into their confessions, that he could not declare the
one without the other. If then that which he saith he was so unwilling to
speak of was publicly set down in their printed confessions, because they
were annexed by the examinates to the discourse of their said confessions,
how much more would this against a Jesuit have been left in (which here
they charged him withal)(393) if any such thing had been true, or
confessed for such by the conspirators? I hope Mr. Attorney will not say
that he suppressed the matter for good-will unto him, and was more loth to
have his name spoken of in so odious a cause than the names of those
Princes which he would so fain have concealed, but that he could not
unweave their confessions so much, into which they were inserted.
But if you will indeed know the true reason why this absurd fiction was
not set down in their printed confessions, and yet was here averred by Mr.
Attorney, you must understand that the author of that first relation and
discourse of all this treason and of the course and proceeding thereof
(wherein the treason itself of gunpowder, the discovery thereof, the
rebellion of the conspirators, their apprehension, and their confessions,
were all published with all known, due, and true circumstances) was so
careful of his authority and the credit of his narration, that he would
not blemish the same with reporting any known untruth. And indeed the
author was said to be of no less authority than the King himself; as it is
easy to be gathered out of another book set forth soon after by the Earl
of Salisbury, entitled _An Answer to certain Scandalous Papers_, in which,
he saith, speaking of that discourse, “that every line discovered where
Apelles’ hand hath been.” Now, on the other side, Mr. Attorney being not
so sure a friend to truth, nor so careful of his own credit in that point,
did not stick to allege this dream or device of his own for a true
narrative, than which there never was a more foul untruth devised, the
party accused being no more privy unto the giving or taking of any such
oath, nor to any such plot or purpose in any one of the conspirators than
the Attorney himself was, or whosoever doth think himself the furthest
from it. And so it may appear that others of greater authority and
judgment than Mr. Attorney were persuaded of him. For although when the
matter first broke out the Council perhaps might have some suspicion that
he was privy unto the Plot, in respect he was supposed to be acquainted
with some of the gentlemen that were in the conspiracy, and thereupon his
name put in the proclamation, yet after the conspirators were taken, and
had been examined, and no proof at all found against him, or mention made
of him in any of their confessions, it seems that the wisest, and those
that had most to deal in the matter, did hold him free; and therefore
neither the Earl of Salisbury nor of Northampton did produce any such
accusation against him, although in their several speeches they had often
occasion to mention that matter of the oath taken by the conspirators
(which oath, as Mr. Winter directly saith in his confession,(394) was
taken by themselves being alone and private in a chamber):(395) for these
be the words of Mr. Winter’s confession related in the foresaid discourse
of the whole treason set forth by His Majesty himself, as before hath been
declared. “First,” saith Mr. Thomas Winter, “Mr. Percy said unto Mr.
Catesby and myself, ‘Shall we always, gentlemen, talk and never do
anything?’ Then Mr. Catesby took him aside and had speech about somewhat
to be done; so as first we might all take an oath of secrecy, which we
resolved within two or three days to do. So as there we met, Mr. Catesby,
Mr. Percy, Mr. John Wright, Mr. Guy Faulks, and myself; and having upon a
Primer given each other the oath of secrecy in a chamber where no other
body was, we went after into the next room and heard Mass and received the
Blessed Sacrament upon the same. Then did Mr. Catesby disclose to Mr.
Percy, and I together with Jack Wright tell to Mr. Faulks, the business
for which we took this oath, which they both approved; and then was Mr.
Percy sent to take the house, where the mine was to be begun,” &c.
Here it is most apparent, that in this great business they consulted only
with themselves; they took the oath by themselves; they imparted the
matter amongst themselves; and assented unto it of themselves; and did
admit neither counsel, nor persuasion, nor presence of any other in
talking of the same. As for their hearing Mass and receiving the Blessed
Sacrament, who seeth not but that might be done, and the Priest not privy
to the matter? Whereof they made no scruple at all, as appears by their
present receiving, but esteemed the case and cause meritorious and not
belonging to confession. And yet who that Priest was, I have heard Father
Gerard protest upon his soul and salvation that he doth not know. This
confession of Mr. Thomas Winter is likewise approved in the confession of
Mr. Faulks related also in the same discourse of this late intended
treason, and contradicted by none. But we must pardon Mr. Attorney this
overlashing in this his discourse, which seemed rather to be intended
against the Jesuits, than to prove the prisoners guilty that were there
present before him; for it appeared by his words in divers places, that
the chief mark he shot at was, like another Aman, to root out the whole
Order of them, not out of England only, but out of the world, if he could;
for to that end he compared them with the Order of the Templars, which was
suppressed by the See Apostolic. To that end it pleased him, out of his
too great liberty of speech, to accuse them of teaching damned heresies,
and besides, that they approve for lawful and meritorious the killing of
Kings. In which last point, to show his good-will as well to the Head as
to the members, he joined them with the Pope himself, affirming that Pope
Sixtus Vtus did not only allow of the fact of that Dominican who killed
the King of France, but did highly commend the same in a public oration in
his Consistory. No marvel therefore if Mr. Attorney did pass the bounds of
justice in his reports of those three Jesuits, and had no regard of truth
in that fiction of his own fathered upon Father Gerard in particular, sith
he showed so great a malice against the whole Order in general, and was so
bold as to accuse the Pope himself in that public place, contrary to the
rule of modesty in his speech, which himself had before acknowledged to be
needful; and contrary to the counsel that is given in such cases, that at
least his memory should be good, if his words were not true. But for the
further convincing of that fiction, and full clearing of Father Gerard, I
will afterwards briefly set down what course he held, to show his
innocency both from that and all other participation in this treason.
Now to proceed to Mr. Attorney his speech. He endeavoured to lay open the
foulness of the treason intended, with all the parts and circumstances
thereof; and showed how great harm and ruin might have come to the
commonwealth by their rash and unnatural attempt. Yet for the persons of
those that were the conspirators, whereof some were slain and most of them
were present, he said, “though some reported them to be persons of mean
account, yet,” said he, “not to wrong them, they are gentlemen of good
houses and of excellent parts, howsoever most perniciously seduced,
corrupted, and Jesuited” (this was his phrase), “of very competent
fortunes and estates;” besides he named three that were of very noble
houses. But the most of his speech was directly or indirectly still bent
against the Jesuits, as the men most maligned by him, and that, in respect
of their religion and the industry they use to promote the same, for other
matter he had not there, which he could with any justice or truth allege
against them.
When it came to the prisoners’ turn to answer for themselves, although
they had pleaded not guilty, as I said before, that was partly in respect
of those conferences between the Jesuits and them, which were not true and
therefore by them denied; partly also for that although they acknowledged
the fact, yet they accounted themselves not guilty of any crime in the
sight of God, (M15) Whom they sought to serve and please in the action,
and would not for any other respect have attempted it. To this effect
answered Mr. Robert Winter and his brother Thomas, the elder of which,
though he were known to be a man both wise and stout, yet he said but
little in that place, as it is thought, for that he saw it was in vain to
justify the action, and yet he would not condemn it, but showed a willing
mind to suffer for the fact which he confessed. In like manner the younger
brother, Thomas, though he were a man of very good discourse and had
delivered his mind at large before the Council about the whole matter, and
that in so good order and with such resolution that he was much commended
and pitied by them all, so far that the Earl of Salisbury said if his case
were any other but for this Powder Treason, he would have saved his life;
yet now in this place he said little or nothing for himself, rather
showing a contented, ready mind to suffer: only he asked mercy of the King
for his brother, who was, as he said, drawn into the action by himself. It
is not amiss to see what is said of them both by that pamphlet which was
then by some base person published of their arraignment and execution; for
that being written in as disgraceful manner of them as could be devised,
it is the surer witness of anything that may be well interpreted of their
mind. Of the elder he hath this, that he said little, but had a guilty
conscience, that he swallowed and concealed his grief and made little show
of sorrow for that time. Of the younger, he saith that he thought himself
already half a saint for his whole villainy, that he said little that
either made show of sorrow or sought mercy, but only made a request to the
King for his brother, &c. By which relation set down to their disgrace, it
may appear what opinion they had of the attempt itself and of their
present state of mind in regard of their intention in the former.
Mr. Rookwood spake more at large, declaring how he had ever been brought
up in the Catholic religion, and taught to fear God from his infancy; that
he was the rather induced to attempt this enterprise, as thinking it the
only likely means to restore the Catholic religion; that his friendship
also and love to Mr. Catesby was such as moved him the sooner to follow
his counsel and example: he requested, withal, favour for his wife and
children. Of him the aforesaid book hath these words, “That he would fain
have made his bringing up and breeding in idolatry to have been some
excuse to his villainy; but a fair tale could not help a foul deed.” So
he.
Of Mr. Grant the book hath this. “Grant, stubborn in his idolatry, nothing
penitent for his villainy, asked little mercy; but, as it were, careless
of grace, received the doom of his desert.” In which words one may
sufficiently see the state of the man’s mind to be answerable to the
description in the —(396) chapter, though in other language here
expressed, where the Catholic religion is, as you see, esteemed and called
idolatry.
The youngest brother of the three Winters did speak little, but only that
he did not begin nor assist to the Plot of Powder, but was after drawn in
by the example and persuasion of his brother.
Mr. Faulks did show a mind answerable to his former proceedings, and gave
that reason for his pleading not guilty which I set down before in this
chapter: for his own part freely and willingly acknowledging the fact, for
which he was ready to suffer.
Mr. Keyes did speak but few words, but such as did make show of great
spirit. He affirmed that the persecution was such before they undertook
this business, and himself had his goods seized with such violence, that
to live in such misery seemed worse than death, and therefore to free both
himself and others, he was glad of this occasion.
Bates, being the last of the eight which were all included in one
indictment, and being but a serving-man, showed more servile fear both now
and at his death than any of them all, answerable perhaps to the motives
that made him first to undertake it, which being most like to be the love
to his master, or some such human respect, so now he showed most sense in
foregoing that which it seems before he had most respected.
Last of all was read a particular indictment of Sir Everard Digby, of
which he stood indicted and convicted already in the country in the county
of Northampton, where the matter was imparted unto him by Mr. Robert
Catesby, and where he gave his consent with promise to provide 1,500_l._
in money, with horses and other furniture fit for assistance and
prosecution of the enterprise, as he himself had formerly confessed and
now again acknowledged at the bar. Therefore when his indictment was read
to this effect, and he required to speak what he would in his own defence,
he answered that he could not deny the fact nor would defend it, but that
he must needs defend his intention, which was to please God and profit
others by the action; that his motives were neither for ambition and
desire of worldly preferment, nor discontentment of his worldly estate,
which it was well known he had no cause to mislike, nor yet was he moved
thereunto by malice or ill-will against any particular person; but that
his motives were these. First, that which moved him to listen and to trust
and to conceal the matter being opened unto him, was his love to Mr.
Catesby, for whose love and friendship he would have adventured his
estates and fortunes. But another greater reason which moved him indeed to
enter into the action was the relief of Catholics, for whom he saw no
other remedy, seeing that the King, he said, had broken his word and
promise of giving relief unto them, at least by toleration; which promise,
said he, they received from him by divers messages; and whereof now there
was no hope at all, but rather that they did all expect and see a
preparation to make other laws in that Parliament more strict than the
former, and that they had to that end packed all the Puritans together,
which was the cause that moved them the rather to attempt that matter
against the Parliament House. But the chiefest motive he said was the
cause of religion, which alone, said he, seeing it lay at the stake, in
that behalf he neglected his estate, his life, his name, his memory, yea,
and his posterity and all the world and whatsoever the world could afford
him. These were his words as near as they could be taken, which were noted
by very many, and he exceedingly pitied even by many of those that were
enemies to his religion, in which he showed so great a resolution and
zeal, with so great estimation thereof and contempt of himself in regard
thereof, which many of the hearers did so generally commend and so
publicly affirm that they could never forget it, he being known to have
enjoyed and that he might still have enjoyed as much worldly contentment
as any man of his estate in England. After this he made some petitions
unto the King and Council, that whereas his fault against the State had
passed no further than himself, he neither having drawn others into the
action nor performed anything to the hurt of others, therefore he desired
in like manner that his punishment might be extended no further but to
himself, and so that his wife and children might neither of them sustain
loss, but the one enjoy her jointure, the other his lands, so far as they
were entailed upon them in law before this matter was thought of. Also
that his debts might be discharged out of his estate; and for himself he
craved no other favour but that, if it pleased the King, he might be
beheaded instead of hanging. Lastly, whereas he had noted in the
indictment and in Mr. Attorney his speech, divers of the Fathers of the
Society to be accused as principal counsellors and persuaders unto this
enterprise, he there protested that in his conscience he thought them all
clear. And in particular for Father Gerard he could best testify, being
best acquainted with him, and therefore was bound in conscience to set
down his knowledge that “he was wholly innocent and did never so much as
know of the matter, yea (said he), I never durst tell him of it, for fear
he would have drawn me out of it.” This was his testimony and protestation
in that public place, being ready to receive the sentence of death; which
he was likewise beginning to iterate again at the time of his death, but
that he was interrupted. Now concerning this matter, if it were not for
staying the reader too long from the story itself, I could here set down
certain letters sent unto the Council by Father Gerard at this very time,
which would make it apparent that he never knew of the conspiracy until
all England knew it. But for that this chapter will grow too long, I will
only set down the course he took to clear himself and the contents of the
letters in few words, though I have now the copies by me procured of
purpose to have been set down in this place.
I made mention before in the —(397) chapter how Father Gerard, before the
proclamation came out, seeing himself to be searched for as guilty of this
conspiracy, did write a long letter of protestation that he was wholly
innocent and had not the least knowledge of the matter. This letter was
seen to divers and even to the King himself, as hath been said, and gave
good satisfaction. But notwithstanding this, some heavy friends of his (to
whom he never gave any cause of offence) procured a proclamation to be set
forth against him and two others of the Society, as hath been said; which
when he perceived, and knowing very well that there was no proof at all
which was or could be brought forth against him, he presently wrote four
letters and sent them to London, three of which were to three of the
chiefest of the Council and one to Sir Everard Digby, then prisoner in the
Tower. The letters to the Council were to the Duke of Lenox, the Earl of
Northampton, and the Earl of Salisbury; in all which he did humbly and
instantly require, that whereas he was accused of so great a crime, in
which he was not partaker in the least degree, nor ever in any sort made
privy unto it, that it would please them for God’s cause and for their
love to equity, to show him so much justice as to afford him such trial as
might be made of his innocency; whereof he proposed in those letters, two
kinds, the one affirmative, the other negative. The one was that the
letter to Sir Everard Digby, which was sent enclosed in theirs and
unsealed might be delivered in their presence, and he examined upon the
points thereof, containing a discourse between him and Father Gerard but
three days before the Plot of Powder was publicly discovered, by which
discourse (if any such discourse were then between them) it was most
apparent that Father Gerard knew nothing in the world of the conspiracy.
And of the verity of that discourse, the Council might by that letter make
full trial, in which the time and place and words that passed between them
were expressly set down, all which, if Sir Everard Digby did not affirm
and agree with his letter, he would grant they had some proof against him.
The trial by negatives which he required was this: that it would please
them to cause all the conspirators at the hour of their death to be
publicly examined, whether ever any of them had imparted the matter unto
him, or would but say upon their conscience that he had the least
knowledge thereof, either by them or any other means. And if they did not
all of them deny it (being urged, as they would answer the Highest Judge,
to speak the sincere truth), he would then yield they had some proof
against him, so that the parties that should so accuse him did it not in
hope of pardon, but did certainly know they should die and did make show
to die in the fear of God and hope of their salvation.
These two ways of trial were proposed and most earnestly requested by
Father Gerard in those his letters, which were as sufficient to try the
truth of the matter (all circumstances considered) as any could be wished.
And these letters were sent in such time to London, as that they certainly
came to the Council’s hands that very day of the arraignment of the
conspirators; so that there was time enough to have had both kinds of
trial made which he required, and in equity and justice might require.
But neither of them were performed. And it is thought generally that they
were forborne, because it was sufficiently known beforehand that thereby
he would be proved clear, whereof the Council were before that persuaded;
but that they were willing to have the proclamation go forward against
him, as against the rest, to hinder him thereby from conversion of souls
and drawing many from them to the Catholic faith, and that of the better
sort, with whom his conversation and practice was for the most part; which
made them so desirous to take him by means of the proclamation, even after
they knew he was not guilty of this treason whereof he was accused.
And see the providence of God. That Sir Everard Digby, knowing nothing at
all of this Father’s demand of trial by his testimony, yet hearing him so
wrongfully accused in the process against them, he did of his own accord
there publicly protest his knowledge of the Father’s innocency, yea, and
of his inclination also against such practices, which was more than the
Father desired in his letters should be demanded. Now, because these
trials were not made which Father Gerard so earnestly requested, he
therefore, before his going out of England, did publish these letters to
some of his friends, that the world might see how clear he was, and what
equal and full trial he offered to show his innocency.
Now, whereas it was reported that Bates had accused Father Gerard, and
that, upon his accusation Father Gerard was put in the proclamation with
the others, that is also apparently disproved by Bates his own letter,
written a day or two before his arraignment, and sent unto a Priest his
last ghostly Father, who did help him with the Sacraments after his
examinations and some weakness showed in them, as may appear also by his
letter, whereof the original is kept under his own hand, and may be seen
to be the same handwriting which is annexed unto his examinations
themselves. The true copy is this:
“Sir, I humbly thank you for your great comfort and pains taken
for me. I praise God I find myself more stronger to resist, and do
hope shall more and more. Sir, when I was at Hobadge House, where
my master was slain, that morning at my going away from him, by
reason of the misfortune that fell amongst us by powder, Mr.
Christopher Wright flung me out of a window an 100_l._, and
desired me, as I was a Catholic, to give unto his wife and his
brother’s wife 80_l._, and take 20_l._ myself. I took out by guess
some 22_l._, as I think, and left it with a friend of mine, and
desired him, if I did miscarry in this action, he should bestow it
amongst my children. Now, I would entreat you to give my fellow
George instructions what to do in it. I refer it to you. Mr.
Wright had of me at times, in money and kine, as much as came to
some 28_l._, but my master told me he would pay me, but he did
not. Now whether my wife may take that money out of that I refer
to you. Also, further, I have dealt with my keeper to deal with
the Clerk of the Council for my pardon, and have promised an
100_l._ if it may be had, which I made account that money should
have served that turn; but I am out of all hope for that, unless
it be God’s will to deliver me. This morning I was sent for down,
and there was a fellow ready with a new suit of fustian, and my
keeper made me to essay it, and neither said it was for me nor
anything, but I know it was provided for me. The meaning I know
not. And before that my Lord of Salisbury asked me what I wanted,
and caused the keeper to buy me a new gown, and bade him use me
extraordinary well. All this makes me full of doubts, for I fear
it is but to serve their own turns of me and then to hang me. Is
it not best for me, if the clothes be offered me, to refuse them?
I pray you resolve me in that, for I have a purpose to tell the
keeper, ‘I have clothes good enough to serve me as long as I live,
I fear, and therefore will none.’ I beseech you to send me word
what your opinion is in these things being offered me. At my last
being before them I told them I thought Mr. Greenway knew of this
business, but I did not charge the others with it, but that I saw
them all together with my master at my Lord Vaux’s, and that after
I saw Mr. Walley and Mr. Greenway at Coughton, and it is true. For
I was sent thither with a letter, and Mr. Greenway rode with me to
Mr. Winter’s to my master, and from thence he rode to Mr.
Abington’s. This I told them and no more. For which I am heartily
sorry for, and I trust God will forgive me, for I did it not out
of malice but in hope to gain my life by it, which I think now did
me no good. Thus desiring your daily prayers I commit you to God.”
This is the true copy of his letter, by which it appears that a man so
weak and so ignorant, as here he showeth himself to be, might easily be
wrought upon, especially by those means that here he expresseth were used
to him; and that such an one to save his life would strain his conscience
far, as indeed he did when he saith that he saw those three at my Lord
Vaux’s; for in truth he did not, nor saw Father Gerard of a year or two
before; but if he had seen him in that place at that time, yet that had
been no accusation of this treason (as is sufficiently proved in the
—(398) chapter where the same matter is handled); and as himself directly
saith in this letter, that he did not accuse him at all, nor Father
Walley, nor the other neither of knowledge; but only that he thought he
knew of the business: whereby it appears that it is not true, which was
afterwards affirmed in Father Garnett’s arraignment that Bates had told
Mr. Greenway of the matter in confession. And this Bates being the only
one of the conspirators of whom it was reported that he had accused Father
Gerard, which here in plain words you see himself doth say he did not, it
remains apparent that never any did accuse him. And this letter under
Bates his own hand being haply brought to Father Gerard a little before
his departure out of England,(399) he did annex the true copy of the same
unto the letters before mentioned, which he had sent unto the Council, and
sent them unto a friend to be published by him after his departure; and of
them all there be divers copies taken, of which myself have one, in which
there is this clause amongst others for his clearing, which methinks doth
offer enough, if reason may be accepted and the promise there alleged
performed. After he had offered and humbly desired of the Council two
sufficient kinds of trial of his cause before specified, seeing that
neither of them were performed, in his letter wherewith he published those
offers made, he citeth a sentence out of my Lord of Salisbury his book
then newly come forth, wherein the Earl declared his mind to be no ways
bent to seek the blood of any but such as had themselves laboured to seek
the blood of others, saying that he only desired, “Necis artifices arte
perire suâ.”(400) This sentence (worthy indeed the pen and practice of a
Councillor in so eminent authority(401)) Father Gerard desired should be
made the rule or square whereby the line of his accusation might be
straitened; and offered that if it could be duly proved, that ever, either
in this most unnatural treason or in any other action, he had wrought or
sought the death of any man, let him then be punished with as cruel a
death as wit of man could devise, and find no eye nor heart to pity him.
This was his offer, and then he addeth further: “But if,” saith he,
“neither this can be proved nor any proofs of my innocency (whereof there
be divers produced for me and none against me) may be in my case admitted,
but that I must remain, &c., yet I would not the world should think it
doth or can bereave me of that quiet and contentment of mind, which I have
in the confident expectation of God’s protection and favour;” and so he
goeth forward, laying down sufficient reasons for both to the full
satisfaction of the reader, both of his innocency touching this accusation
and of his willing acceptance of God’s blessed will and disposition.
Now to return unto Sir Everard Digby. After he had ended his speech with
the foresaid protestation,(402) that he thought assuredly all the Fathers
were innocent of this treason, and that he knew for certain that Father
Gerard had not so much as any knowledge at all thereof, then the Earl of
Northampton made a speech, which he chiefly directed to Sir Everard Digby
in answer of that point, especially where Sir Everard urged the King’s
promise for toleration. And, first, the Earl said that, if he could lament
any man upon earth in that case, he could pity him in respect of his worth
many ways, and the good opinion he had formerly conceived of him. He
witnessed also that Queen Elizabeth esteemed him much, and, to his own
knowledge, had spoken of Sir Everard with great grace. Then, after a
sufficient discourse, proving by sound reasons the foulness of this
treason, his Lordship came to that promise of the King, which there he
utterly denied, and proved it by Watson his confession before his death,
who had been a chief man to divulge the same before. And that Watson
affirmed likewise, he had given out such hopes before contrary to his
knowledge, only to move Catholics to a willing acceptance of the King. All
which, though we admit as true, being affirmed by the Earl as spoken to
himself, yet Catholics are not thereby persuaded that Watson received no
such hopes from His Majesty when he kneeled before him in Scotland. For
they think it much more likely that Watson, being in this peril of death
and in the power of the Council, would misreport his former persuasion of
mind and the cause thereof, thereby to please the more, and by pleasing to
obtain favour, which divers of his other words at that time, related also
in this speech, did plainly show he did both desire and hope for. Whereas,
when he returned out of Scotland he had no such cause to dissemble, and to
relate such assured promises to so many Catholics, as it is known he did,
if himself had been out of hope thereof; yea, and that he did not therein
dissemble his sequent actions did apparently prove. For he was the first
man that laboured to persuade Catholics to take arms against His Majesty,
as hath been declared before (though, thanks be to God, he could prevail
but with a very few therein), which, happening within the first year, it
appears he ran that contrary course so soon as he had the contrary
opinion; which, if he had brought with him out of Scotland (as he affirmed
to the Earl of Northampton in the time of his imprisonment), then had it
been more easy for him to have persuaded Catholics there was no hope to be
had, and so to have kept him out, than after he had assured them the
contrary, and the King was settled in his throne, then to persuade them
thereunto, which then was much more difficult and unlikely. And,
therefore, nothing likely he would first have been so forward to plant
that tree, which so soon after himself did first endeavour to cut down,
and that with hazard and loss of his life, unless he had first expected
other fruit than afterwards he found. But Watson’s reports were not the
greatest grounds that Catholics did build their hopes upon. Divers men,
his betters much, did affirm the same, whose words were more esteemed than
either Watson’s or Percy’s in that cause. It was not the least part of
needful policy that such a conceit should run for current in the minds of
Catholics generally, and such hopes to be thought likely at that time by
whomsoever they were given out, which I will not here dispute; for that
persuasion, no doubt, did strengthen much the Catholics’ mind, which was
found so ready to receive their King with all peace and comfort. And I
make no question but if it pleased His Majesty to perform as much as then
was hoped, it would prove no less profitable in all respects unto the
stability of peace and happiness than pleasing to the receivers, in regard
of their ease and mitigation of their afflictions.
Unto the speech of Sir Everard Digby the Earl of Salisbury did likewise
answer in defence of the King’s word, esteeming that Sir Everard did seem
to tax His Majesty with breach of promise, which many think was not the
intention of the prisoner, but only to show that, such general hopes being
conceived upon some likely ground as they presumed, and now seeing all
hopes to fail, they were the more easily induced to run this other course
for the redress of their own miseries. And so, against the likelihood of
these hopes, the Earl’s speech did prove fully that the King had always
professed the contrary religion most earnestly, and that His Majesty was
so far from giving hope of toleration that he would not endure the least
motion thereof to be proposed. And yet the Earl in the same speech
declared how His Majesty had dealt favourably with divers principal
Catholic gentlemen who were sent for to the Court in the time of Watson
his treason before mentioned; at which time finding them free from having
their hands in any treason (said the Earl) they were dismissed with
encouragement to persist in their dutiful carriage, and that the payments
for not going to Church should be forgiven them in respect of their so
much loyalty showed at the King’s entry, and for that they had afterwards
kept themselves so free.(403) In this speech the Earl of Salisbury did
show great zeal to defend His Majesty from the least touch of breach of
his promise, and therein to disprove that which he thought would be
conceived of Sir Everard Digby’s words. And though otherwise he
acknowledged Sir Everard to be his alliance by marriage, yet it is thought
that in regard chiefly of this his speech, he had not his petition granted
of being beheaded, but was with all the rest adjudged presently to be
hanged, drawn, and quartered, according to the ordinary form of judgment
in case of high treason. So then, having received the sentence of death,
they were all returned to their prisons until Thursday and Friday
following, which were the days of their execution; only Mr. John Winter
(being the youngest of the three brothers) was not then put to death, but
carried after into the country and suffered at Worcester, as shall
afterward be declared.
(M16) On Thursday, therefore, being the 30th of January, four of the eight
were drawn upon sledges and hurdles from the Tower to St. Paul’s
Churchyard, where they were to suffer, _vidlt._, Sir Everard Digby, Mr.
Robert Winter, Mr. John Graunt, and —— Bates. And being arrived there,
first Sir Everard Digby was taken off the hurdle and led up to the
scaffold, of whom the pamphlet before alleged set forth of their judgment
and death as much to disgrace them as might be, yet hath these words,
“First went up Digby, a man of a goodly personage and a manly aspect. He
enforced himself to speak as stoutly as he could; his speech was not long
and to little good purpose, only that his belied conscience (being but
indeed a blinded conceit) had led him into this offence, which, in respect
of his religion (_alias_ indeed idolatry), he held no offence, but, in
respect of the law, he held an offence, for which he asked forgiveness;
and so, with vain and superstitious crossing of himself, betook him to his
Latin prayers, mumbling to himself, refusing to have any prayers of any
but of the Romish Catholics, went up the ladder.” Thus he. By which
relation, though set down with much ill-will against him and his religion,
yet it is easy to see thereby what state of mind he died in. The truth is
he gave great satisfaction to all the standers-by.(404) When he was first
brought up to the scaffold, after he had commended himself to God, being
wished, as the custom is, to acknowledge his treason for which he died, he
did accordingly acknowledge the fact intended according to his judgment,
but withal he declared that his motives were no evil will to any, nor any
love to himself for worldly respects, but the ending of persecution of
Catholics, the good of souls, and the cause of religion. In which regard
he could not condemn himself of any offence to God, though he granted he
had offended the laws of the realm, for which he asked their pardon, and
was willing to suffer death, and thought nothing too much to suffer for
those respects which had moved him to that enterprise. The preachers
standing by, as the fashion is, did move him to pray with them. He
absolutely refused, and desired the assistance and prayers of all good
Catholics, himself fell to his prayers with such devotion as much moved
all the beholders. And when he had done, he stood up and saluted all the
noblemen and gentlemen that stood upon the scaffold, every one according
to his estate, to the noblemen with a lower _congé_, to others with more
show of equality, but to all in so friendly and so cheerful a manner, as
they afterwards said, he seemed so free from fear of death as that he
showed no feeling at all of any passion therein, but took his leave of
them as he was wont to do when he went from the Court or out of the city
to his own house in the country; yet withal he showed so great devotion of
mind, so much fervour and humility in his prayers, and so great confidence
in God, as that very many said(405) they made no doubt but his soul was
happy, and wished themselves might die in the like state of mind. He was
no sooner turned off the ladder but very speedily cut down, and that with
such haste as that he fell upon his face, and so somewhat bruised his
forehead, yet, though he could not be dead, he made no resistance at the
block whilst he was in quartering; and after his bowels and heart were
cast into the fire, and his head cut off, the hangman holding it up as is
usual to do, it was noted that there was no alteration at all in his
countenance, but had the same man-like and comely aspect he had before his
death.
(M17) After him went up Mr. Robert Winter, of whom the foresaid pamphlet
hath this, “After him went Winter up to the scaffold, where he used few
words to any good effect; without asking mercy either of God or the King
for his offence, went up the ladder, and making a few prayers to himself,
staid not long for his execution.” By which words it may appear that Mr.
Winter died much in the like mind and manner as the other gentleman before
him. He was esteemed in his life to be one of the wisest and most resolute
and sufficient gentlemen in Worcestershire, where he dwelt, as formerly
hath been declared.
After him went up Mr. Graunt, who showed extraordinary zeal, as it may
appear by the foresaid book, which saith “that he, being abominably
blinded with his idolatry, though he confessed his offence to be heinous,
yet would fain have excused it by his conscience and religion. He having
used a few idle words to ill effect, was, as his fellows before him, led
the way to the halter, and so, after his crossing of himself, to the last
part of his tragedy.” Whereby it appears he alleged the same reasons and
died with the same resolution the former had done.
Last of them was Bates, of whom the book saith “that he seemed sorry for
his offence, and asked forgiveness of God and the King and of the whole
kingdom, prayed to God for the preservation of them all; and, as he said,
only for his love to his master (Mr. Robert Catesby) drawn to forget his
duty to God, his King, and country.” These words which Bates spake at his
death, and the mind he showed, declare sufficiently what hath been said of
him before; and his motives being but human respects (as here he
acknowledgeth), no marvel though he had showed less store of grace and
assistance thereof both before and at his death. But seeing he showed to
die penitent for his fact, it is to be hoped he found mercy at God’s
hands. Thus ended the execution of this day. And many of the beholders
returned full of pity and compassion towards so worthy-minded men as the
first three were, especially Sir Everard Digby, whose fortitude of mind
they did so much admire, and had so great opinion of his devotion that for
all that day and some time after they could talk almost of nothing else.
The next day, being Friday, were drawn from the Tower to the Old Palace in
Westminster over against the Parliament House, Mr. Thomas Winter, the
second brother of the Winters, Mr. Ambrose Rookwood, Mr. Robert Keyes, and
Mr. Guy Faulks. By the way, as they were drawn upon the Strand, Mr.
Rookwood had provided that he should be admonished when he came over
against the lodging where his wife lay; and being come unto the place, he
opened his eyes (which before he kept shut to attend better to his
prayers), and seeing her stand in a window to see him pass by, he raised
himself as well as he could up from the hurdle, and said aloud unto her:
“Pray for me, pray for me.” She answered him also aloud: “I will; and be
of good courage and offer thyself wholly to God. I, for my part, do as
freely restore thee to God as He gave thee unto me.”
(M18) Being all come to the place of execution, first Mr. Thomas Winter
was led to the scaffold, as the principal in the business, who was from
the first acquainted therewith, and a chief actor therein. Of him the book
saith that “he seemed after a sort as it were sorry for his offence, and
yet crossed himself,” saith he, “as though those were sufficient wards
against the devil; that he protested to die a true Catholic, and so went
up the ladder.” Truth is, Mr. Thomas Winter spake not much at his
execution, seeming more willing to prepare himself for death; whereat some
of the standers-by marvelling, who knew him to be a wise and well-spoken
man, seemed desirous to have him speak at large. But he answered he had
spoken at large unto the Council concerning all their intentions and the
causes that moved them to that enterprise, and he hoped he had given
satisfaction in the whole; that this was no time to discourse; he was come
to die, wherein he desired the prayers and assistance of all good
Catholics. Only this he said in particular, that whereas divers of the
Fathers of the Society were accused of counselling and furthering them in
this treason, he could clear them all, and particularly Father Tesimond,
from all fault and participation therein. And indeed Mr. Thomas Winter
might best clear that good Father, with whom he was best acquainted, and
knew very well how far he was from counselling or plotting that business.
For himself, having first told the Father of it (as I have heard), long
after the thing was ready, and that in such secret as he might not utter
it, but with his leave, unto his Superior only, the Father, both then and
after, did so earnestly persuade him, and by him the rest, to leave off
that course (as his duty was), that Mr. Winter might well find himself
bound in conscience to clear this Father from his wrongful accusation of
being a counseller and furtherer of the Plot.(406)
(M19) Next him came Mr. Rookwood, who made a speech of some longer time,
acknowledged and asked forgiveness for his offence to His Majesty and the
State. He prayed earnestly for the King and Queen and all their children,
and wished them long life and a happy reign, and last of all (which, the
foresaid book saith, was to mar all the pottage with one filthy weed) he
prayed God to make the King a Catholic. And so, desiring favour for his
wife and children, protesting, saith the book, to die in his idolatry, a
Romish Catholic, he went up the ladder, and hanging until he was almost
dead, was drawn to the block, where he gave his last gasp. The devotion
and resolute mind of this gentleman was very well known to many, and he
was very much pitied, as he had been much beloved.
After him came Mr. Keyes, of whom the book saith thus: “That he, like a
desperate villain, used little speech, showed small or no sign of
repentance, went up the ladder stoutly, where, not staying the hangman’s
turn, turned himself off, and with the swing broke the halter, but after
his fall was quickly drawn to the block and there divided into four
parts.” But he did not, as here it is said, leap down of himself, but when
he thought himself ready he showed his ready mind to go off the ladder
without force, lest the hangman should take him on a sudden, when his mind
was not actually upon it, and so be cause of some little reluctation.
Last of all Mr. Faulks was led to the scaffold, of whom the book hath
this: “That his body being weak with torture and sickness he was scarce
able to go up the ladder; also that he made no long speech, but after a
sort seeming to be sorry for his offence, asked a kind of forgiveness of
the King and the State for his bloody intent, and, with his crosses and
idle ceremonies, made his end upon the gallows and the block.” Thus saith
the author of that pamphlet, and where he said that Mr. Faulks seemed to
be sorry after a sort, and asked a kind of forgiveness, he maketh it
apparent that he did as his fellows had done, acknowledge their intended
action to be displeasing to the King and State, whose favour they desired,
and therefore in that respect asked them forgiveness; but that they did
not hold it for an offence to God in respect of their intention to please
Him and serve Him in the whole, as thinking when they began the action and
professing when they ended their life that there was no other likely means
to restore religion in England. And would to God herein they had been as
well advised as they were absolute to believe and follow their own advice.
Then had they neither hurt themselves nor others by this rash and heady
enterprise, most unfit for subjects to undertake against their Prince and
country, especially all attempts being so forbidden by His Holiness as
they were, and so often and earnestly dissuaded by the Fathers of the
Society, as hath been declared. And yet it is strange to see how
impudently that heretical pamphlet which I have cited before so often of
their arraignment and death (set forth by one T.W., I know not who), doth
rail first at the Pope himself and then against all Jesuits and Priests,
as against the authors and plotters of this business. For he saith: “Thus
I have ended my discourse of the arraignment and execution of these eight
traitors.” Then a little after he prosecuteth in this manner: “Was there
ever seen such a hellish Plot since the betraying of the Lord of Heaven?
If the Pope were not a very devil, and these Jesuits, or rather Jebusites
and satanical seminaries, very spirits of wickedness, that whisper in the
ears of Evahs to bring a world of Adams to destruction, how could nature
be senseless or reason so graceless,” &c. So he proceedeth, inveighing
against His Holiness and religion, and all that he imagined did favour or
further the same religion in any great measure.
But silence is the best answer to such witless and wilful assertions,
uttered against the truth so many ways manifestly proved. But this fellow,
and such as he is, will rather “impugnare agnitam veritatem”(407) than
omit any opportunity to revile against the Pope and those that most do
stand for his authority; which is no news for poor Catholics in England to
hear of daily to their grief, long before this act was commenced or
thought of by these few laymen, who had not the counsel or help of any one
Priest amongst them. Yea, for these many years the most part of their
sermons is in this relative kind, devising names of reproach against His
Holiness, so far forth that many youths, when they are first brought to be
Catholics, will hardly be brought to think that he is a natural man, and
not some devil or monster, as they have heard him often described. And
this custom of the heretics is so common, and yet so grievous for zealous
Catholics to endure, that it is rather to be pitied than marvelled that
these few gentlemen, being men of great spirit, did want patience to
endure any longer when they saw all other hopes of help to fail them. We
hope all others will be warned hereafter, and temper their zeal by the
counsel of their guides, which, if these had done, according to the
earnest wishes and serious labours of Father Garnett, then had not he
sustained so many troubles (as I am now to declare) for their trespass,
which he by all lawful means sought to hinder.