In the last chapter we saw how Catesby, by means of his infamous
perversion of Father Garnet's words, induced several of his friends,
among others, and last of all, Sir Everard Digby, to join in his
conspiracy; but even with his extraordinary powers of personal influence
and persuasion, his unscrupulousness, and his intimate friendship with
Sir Everard, it is just possible that he might have failed in enlisting
him as a conspirator, had it not been for a most unfortunate, and
apparently unguarded, remark made by Father Garnet.
Garnet had been at his wits' end to put a stop to the dangerous
inclination to civil rebellion which he had observed among certain of
the English Catholics; and, in his despair, he had written to Father
Claudius Aquaviva, the General of the Society of Jesus:[171]--"If the
affair of the toleration go not well, Catholics[172] will no more be
quiet. What shall we do? Jesuits cannot hinder it. Let the Pope forbid
all Catholics to stir."
[171] _Narrative of the G. P._, Gerard, pp. 72-3.
[172] "Wherein he meant belike Mr Catesby and some such whom he most
feared," says Father Gerard; _ib._
The date of this letter was August 29, 1604,[173] that is to say, more
than a year before Sir Everard Digby had ever heard of the Plot. Now,
will it be believed that when he was asked by Sir Everard Digby what the
meaning of "the Pope's Brief was"[174] [which "Brief" it may have been
matters little to my purpose; Lingard[175] thought it referred to that
of July 19, 1603], Father Garnet was weak enough--can I use a milder
term?--to reply "that they were not (meaning Priests) to undertake or
procure stirrs: _but yet they would not hinder any, neither was it the
Pope's mind they should, that should be undertaken for Catholick good_."
And this after all his anxiety that the Pope should be induced to
"forbid all Catholics to stir!" I say "after," for if the conversation
had taken place very much earlier, what reason would Sir Everard have
had for saying:--"This answer, with Mr Catesby's proceedings with him
and me gave me absolute belief that the matter in general was approved,
though every particular was not known." If the point be pressed that it
_may_ have been earlier, I would reply, be it so; for in the very
initiatory stages of the Plot, Father Garnet learned that some scheme
was in hand, although he knew nothing of its details, and even then he
was most anxious to prevent any "stirr." Let me quote Father
Pollen.[176] "About midsummer 1604, some steps in the Plot having been
already taken, Catesby intimated that they had something in hand, but
entered into no particulars. Father Garnet dissuaded him. Catesby
answered, 'Why were we commanded before to keep out one that was not a
Catholic, and now may not exclude him?' And this he thought an
'invincible argument,' and 'was so resolved in conscience that it was
lawful to take arms for religion, that no man could dissuade it, but by
the Pope's prohibition. Whereupon I [_i.e._, Garnet] urged that the Pope
himself had given other orders, &c.'" Yet Garnet told Sir Everard Digby
that priests "would not hinder any" "stirs" "that should be undertaken
for the Catholick good," "neither was it the Pope's mind that they
should."
[173] _Father Garnet and the G. P._, p. 4.
[174] _Papers and Letters of Sir Everard Digby._ Paper 9.
[175] Hist. Eng., Vol. viii Note H. H. H. 9.
[176] Father Garnet and the G. P., p. 4.
A friend of my own, who is a great admirer of Father Garnet, as well as
a deeply read student of his times, disagrees with me in my view of
Father Garnet's speech to Sir Everard about the "stirrs." He
writes:--"It seems to me you make too much of _one word_, and not enough
of the _known tenour_ of his instructions." Well, in the first place,
this one word is the chief thing that I have to deal with, in respect to
Father Garnet. I am not writing a life of Garnet, but of Sir Everard
Digby; and as Sir Everard stated that on that one word, to a great
extent, depended his belief that the plot was approved of by the
Jesuits, and consequently his consent to join in that plot, it is
scarcely possible for me to "make too much of it." Moreover, I expressly
pointed out that it was contrary to "the known tenour of his
instructions," and I emphasised the fact that it was a direct
contradiction to those instructions, as well as to his wishes, and that
it was given in a moment of good-natured weakness; but I venture to
suggest that that weakness, instead of being contrary to what we know of
his character, was in remarkable accordance with it.
I will admit that I long hesitated to use the word "weakness" in
connection with Father Garnet; but he himself practically owned that he
was not always free from it.
"I acknowledge," he wrote,[177] before his death, "that I was bound to
reveal all knowledge that I had of this or any other treason out of the
sacrament of confession. And whereas, partly upon hope of prevention,
partly for that I would not betray my friend, I did not reveal the
general knowledge of Mr Catesby's intention, which I had by him, I do
acknowledge myself highly guilty to have offended God, the King's
Majesty and Estate, and humbly ask of all forgiveness, exhorting all
Catholics that they no way follow my example." To Father Greenway,
again, he wrote:--[178] "Indeed, I might have revealed a general
knowledge I had of Mr Catesby out of confession, but hoping of the
Pope's prevention, and being loth to hurt my friend, I acknowledge to
have so far forth offended God and the king."
[177] S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xx. n. 12.
[178] Hatfield MS., 115 fol. 154.
With all humility, I beg to submit that a feeble, unguarded, nervous and
indulgent speech such as that about the "stirrs," attributed by Sir
Everard Digby to Father Garnet, is not very inconsistent with that good
Father's conduct, as described by himself in the above manuscripts.
The question whether Father Garnet did, or did not, die a martyr,
however interesting, is altogether apart from my subject; a life of Sir
Everard Digby is in no way affected by that controversy; nor am I taking
upon myself the offices of Devil's Advocate in Garnet's case, when I
endeavour to do justice to that of Sir Everard.
I fully admit that _if_ Father Garnet was weak, his weakness was owing
to an excess of kindheartedness and a loyalty to his friends that
bordered on extravagance. I am well aware that it is easy to be "wise
after the event," and that that sort of wisdom is too cheap to justify
confident or summary sentences on those whose surroundings in their own
times were so complicated as to make it impossible to put ourselves
exactly in their places. Again, it may be that Sir Everard misheard or
misunderstood Garnet, that his memory failed him, or even that he lied.
Yet, again, it is possible that Digby's letter may have been incorrectly
transcribed, though I can see no reason for thinking this at all likely
to be the case.
There is, however, another side to the question. The mischief which may
be wrought by a holy, amiable, but weak man, especially one whose dread
of giving pain to others, or putting them into bad faith, or making them
give up all religion by saying more than they can bear, when it is his
duty to speak plainly, fully, and decidedly, is almost unlimited; and if
we are to hesitate to form opinions of the actions and characters of
those who have lived in the past, for the reasons given above, we must
relinquish historical studies once and for ever. Lastly, we ought not to
extol one character at the expense of another. Father Garnet's weak
speech, if weak it was, to some extent excuses, or rather somewhat
lessens, the guilt of Sir Everard Digby. We must try to put ourselves in
Digby's place as well as in Garnet's; nor do I see that Sir Everard's
evidence need be discredited. It was not extorted under examination; on
the contrary, it was deliberately written to his wife, and whatever his
faults may have been, deceit and dishonesty do not appear to have been
among them.
But let me say one word now as to the difficulties in which Father
Garnet was placed. Familiar as we are with the means through which he
came to know of the plot, I will take the liberty of reminding my
readers of them.[179] Suspecting that Catesby was scheming some
mischief, he had taxed him with it, and told him that, being against the
Pope's will, it would not prosper. Catesby had replied that, if the Pope
knew what he intended to do, he would not hinder it. Then Father Garnet
urged him to let the Pope know all about the whole affair. Catesby said
he would not do so for the world, lest it should be discovered; but he
offered to impart his project to Father Garnet. This Father Garnet
refused to hear. Catesby, with all his double-dealing, seems to have
become filled with remorse and anxiety, for he revealed the plot to
Father Greenway in confession, giving him leave to reveal it in his turn
to Father Garnet, in the same manner and under the same seal.
[179] _Father H. Garnet and the Gunpowder Plot_, Pollen, pp. 10, 11.
It is difficult for Protestants to realise the secresy of the
confessional. Not only can the confessor say nothing of what he has
heard in it to anyone else, but he may not even speak of it to the
penitent himself, unless the penitent specially requests him to do so,
except in confession; nor can he in any way act towards him, or
concerning him, on the strength of it. On the other hand, the penitent,
although sometimes bound in honour and honesty not to reveal what the
priest may say to him confidentially, as man to man, is theologically
free to repeat anything that the priest may have said to him in the
confessional to the whole world if he so wills; he can also, if he
pleases, set the priest at liberty to speak either to himself about it,
outside the confessional, or to any other particular person or persons
whom he may choose to name, or to everybody, if he likes; but, unless
so liberated, if the confessor hears that his penitent is publicly or
privately giving a wrong version of the advice given him in confession,
he cannot set himself right by giving the true one.
Father Greenway, horrified at the disclosure, availed himself of
Catesby's permission to confide it to Father Garnet in confession. The
latter[180] "was amazed," and "said it was a most horrible thing, the
like of which was never heard of, for many reasons unlawful, &c.," and
he proceeded to reprimand Father Greenway very severely for even giving
ear to the matter.[181] By this, Endaemon the Jesuit, who tells the
story, probably means "for discussing" the matter, and not refusing to
listen to any defence of it. A priest can hardly be blamed for "hearing"
anything in confession; yet this is what Endaemon says. Therefore it
would appear that, whether Father Garnet acted imprudently or not,
Father Greenway certainly did so--at any rate, in Father Garnet's
opinion.[182]
[180] _Father Garnet and the Gunpowder Plot_, pp. 11, 12.
[181] See Endaemon Johannes, S.J., _Apologia pro Henrico Garneto_, p.
259.
[182] The following is the description of Father Greenway given in
the Proclamation for his apprehension. "Of a reasonable stature,
black hair, a brown beard cut close on the cheeks and left broad on
the chin, somewhat long-visaged, lean in the face but of a good red
complexion, his nose somewhat long and sharp at the end, his hands
slender and long fingers, his legs of a good proportion, his feet
somewhat long and slender."--S. P. James I., Vol. xviii. n. 21.
The position in which Catesby was placed with regard to the sacraments
of confession and communion is delicate ground for a layman to approach;
especially as nobody knows exactly what took place with regard to
either. I am told, however, by those who ought to know, that this much
may be said from my own point of view, without danger of theological
error. Father Greenway, after telling Catesby in confession about the
nature of the enormity he was meditating, must have refused him
absolution and the sacraments if he persevered.[183] After so striking a
sentence, what possible room is there for thinking that Catesby could
have gone on without even a _serious practical doubt_ as to the
lawfulness of his object? Yet to have persevered with such a doubt would
have put him at once into a state of _mala fides_. And if he became in a
state of _mala fides_, as he was in the habit of going to the sacraments
every week, he must have done one or other of two things. He must either
have made sacrilegious communions, or he must have given up going to
Holy Communion in order to commit the crime of proceeding with the
Gunpowder Plot.
[183] Although it may seem an insult to most of my readers, there
are some who are so ignorant of Catholic matters, that it may be
safer to explain that in saying Father Greenway must have refused
absolution, I mean absolution for _past_ sins. Absolution cannot be
given for future sins, as some Protestants have supposed, and a
"dispensation to commit a sin" is an impossibility. Certain
Protestant writers have implied that both were given by the Jesuits
to Catesby and his fellow-conspirators.
There is another point in connection with Catesby's confession which is
worthy of notice. When he first told the other conspirators that he had
obtained the consent of a Jesuit to a case similar to the Gunpowder
Plot, he could at least honestly say that no priest had at that time
directly _condemned_ the Gunpowder Plot itself as such; but, when Father
Greenway had distinctly done so, he still seems to have left them under
the impression that the Jesuit Fathers approved of the conspiracy "in
general, though they knew not the particulars." To do this was to _act_
a lie! But it seems to have been after he had heard Greenway condemn the
Plot in confession that he said something of the same kind to Sir
Everard Digby for the first time, and in that case he _told_ a lie! In
short, if--mind, I say if--after hearing Greenway's denunciation of the
Plot, which, according to Father Pollen,[184] was in July, he gave Sir
Everard Digby to understand, on first telling him of the plot, in the
following September, that the scheme in general had the approval of the
Jesuits, though they knew not the particulars, when he was well aware
that he himself _had_ told them the main particulars, and was certain
that they did _not_ approve of it, he obtained Sir Everard's adherence
to the plot by a direct fraud, and acted the part of an unscrupulous
scoundrel.
[184] _Father Garnet and the Gunpowder Plot_, p. 13.
Some devout people have endeavoured to find excuses for Catesby--not for
his action with regard to the plot, of course, but for the condition of
mind into which he fell preparatory to it--on the ground that he was a
good Catholic. What is a good Catholic? I suppose a man who keeps God's
commandments and obeys his Church. One commandment is, "Thou shalt do
no murder"; and one of the Pope's orders, in Catesby's time, was that
the Catholics in England were not to rise against the Government. But
then it is said that Catesby went to Holy Communion every week. Be it
so! Another historical character, one Judas Iscariot, committed a still
worse crime immediately after receiving his First Communion.
Robert Catesby was one of those most dangerous men to his own cause, a
Catholic on Protestant principles. He acted in direct opposition to the
commands of the Divine Founder of his Church, as well as to the precepts
of the representative of that Divine Founder upon earth. He preferred
his own private opinion to that of either. He considered his own
Decalogue and Beatitudes juster and more sublime than the Almighty's,
his own intentions for the welfare of the Church wiser than the Holy
Father's, his own moral theology more orthodox than that of the Jesuits;
and then this Protestant in practice--for Protestantism is not
exclusively restricted to protests against such matters as the supremacy
of the Pope or transubstantiation--took it upon himself to pose as a
prominent champion of the Catholic Church.
I am not denying that Catesby fancied he was doing right; but whether
that fancy was arrived at by right means or wrong is another question.
He seems to have argued to himself that Pope, Priests, and Jesuits were
not equal to the occasion; that there were times, of which his own was
one, at which papal, spiritual, and even biblical teaching must for the
moment be set on one side whilst the secular arm struck a violent blow
for the relief of God's suffering people; that, _ante factum_, the
ecclesiastical powers could not consent to such a measure, but that,
_post factum_, they would not only tolerate it, but approve of and
rejoice at it. It came, therefore, to this, that on a most important
point of morals--faith and morals, be it remembered, are the two chief
provinces over which the Catholic Church claims power--a private
individual, and not the Church, was to decide what was best; in short,
Catesby was to protest against the teaching of the Church. Luther
protested in matters of faith; Catesby protested in matters of morals.
Both men seem to have believed that the time would come when the Church
would see that what they did was for its welfare.
It has been said that in Father Garnet we have one of the most
remarkable instances in history of the secresy of the confessional. On
this point I venture no opinion; but I am bold enough to say that in
Robert Catesby we have one of the most remarkable instances in history
of the abuse of the confessional. Perhaps no man ever did more to foster
that superstitious horror of "auricular confession" which has so long
prevailed, and still prevails in this country.
In passing, I may meet a possible inquiry as to how it came about that
so much should be known concerning what Catesby had told Greenway in
confession, and what Greenway had told Garnet under the same sacred
seal. The explanation is simple. Catesby had not only given Father
Greenway permission to inform Father Garnet of the plot, under seal of
confession, but had[185] "arranged that neither should be bound by that
seal when lawfully examined by their superiors." Another question
naturally presents itself, much more connected with the man whose life I
am writing, which I confess I do not find it so easy to answer. It is
the following:--When Father Garnet noticed the sudden and suspicious
confidences which had arisen between Catesby and Sir Everard Digby,[186]
after their ride from Harrowden to Gothurst, did he, though tongue-tied
as to what he knew of Catesby's designs under seal of confession, know
enough _out_ of the confessional to warn Sir Everard against consenting
to, or joining in, any illicit schemes which Catesby might propose to
him and had he an extra-confessional _causa loquendi_?
[185] _Father Garnet and the G. P._, Pollen, p. 11.
[186] _Ib._, pp. 21, 22.
Let us suppose that he asked himself this question. Even if he answered
it in the affirmative, he might have refrained from acting, through fear
that, in his vehemence in warning Sir Everard, there might be a danger
of his breaking the seal of the confessional; or that in vaguely putting
Sir Everard on his guard, he might raise the suspicion that knowledge
obtained in the confessional was the occasion, or the impelling cause of
that warning. Or he might reflect that, if cross-questioned by Sir
Everard, it would be difficult to remember, at a moment's notice,
exactly how much of his knowledge of Catesby's schemes was sealed by
confession, and how much unsealed.
Yet when he looked at his young host, and at his charming and excellent
wife, still a mere girl, but with two little children beside her, in
their beautiful and happy home, the model of what a Christian home ought
to be, and a centre of Catholic society; and when he considered that
hitherto Sir Everard Digby had been as upright in character as in
stature, and as distinguished in virtue as in appearance, might he not
have told himself that any effort was worth making to try to save him
from a terrible crime and its terrible consequences?
He was the only man who could do so! He alone had "a general knowledge
of Mr Catesby's intention,"[187] untrammelled by the secresy of either
oath or confessional, and he[188] "noticed the new intimacy that had
sprung up between Catesby and Digby," and surmised truly enough that
Digby had been "drawn in." Yet it is evident from Sir Everard's letters
from the Tower, that Father Garnet never lifted a finger nor uttered a
word to hinder his host from joining, or proceeding in, the conspiracy
which was to work his ruin. This is the more remarkable because Father
Garnet might have been expected not only to wish to save Sir Everard
from the guilt and the dangers of the Plot, but also to prevent a
conspiracy which he so much dreaded from being strengthened by the
support of a man of considerable wealth. The most probable origin of his
inaction in this matter was the same weakness of character which had
exhibited itself in his speech to Sir Everard about the Pope and the
"stirrs," and in his failure to reveal his "general knowledge, had of Mr
Catesby out of confession," whereby he said he offended God and the
King. His silence and inaction were certainly not owing to any temporary
revival of confidence in his mind. On the contrary, he wrote:--[189] "I
remained in the greatest perplexity that ever I was in my life, and
could not sleep a' nights." He added, "I did offer up all my devotions
and masses that God of his mercy and infinite Providence would dispose
of all for the best, and find means which were pleasing unto Him, to
prevent so great a mischief" [as the Gunpowder Plot]. "I knew that this
would be infinitely displeasing to my Superiors in Rome, in so much as
at my second conference with Mr Greenway, I said, 'Good Lord, if this
matter go forward, the Pope will send me to the galleys, for he will
assuredly think I was privy to it.'"
[187] His own admission. S.P. Dom. James I., Vol. xx. n. 12.
[188] Father Garnet and the G. P., Pollen, pp. 22, 23.
[189] _Ib._, 23.
Far be it from me to presume to judge Father Garnet harshly; his
opportunities may have been much less, his difficulties may have been
much greater, than the evidence before us would seem to show; but, as a
biographer of Sir Everard Digby, I feel bound to express my regret that
it should appear as if Father Garnet might have saved him from the
terrible troubles that followed and failed to do so.
I began this chapter with a reference to those who plead extenuating
circumstances for Catesby. Let me end it by referring to somewhat
similar-minded critics, who, while they condemn the Gunpowder Plot as a
most dastardly outrage, regard it as the hot-blooded attempt of a small
party of Catholics driven to desperation by their sufferings. Of the
sufferings of the English Catholics there can be no sort of doubt or
question; and none the less certain is it that, as a body, they bore
them with patience and without any attempt at rebellion. Was, then, the
small party of Catholics that conspired in the Gunpowder Plot composed
of men so exceptionally exposed to sufferings for their faith as to be,
more than any of their fellow-sufferers, "driven to desperation"? It is
well worth while to inquire. We will consult a Catholic contemporary,
most unlikely to represent their lot as too easy, namely, the oft-quoted
Father Gerard.[190]
[190] _Narrative of the Gunpowder Plot._
Let us begin with Catesby, the originator and leader of the enterprise.
The losses of his father on account of his religion do not concern the
objects of the plot, as they were incurred long before and during a
different reign. Catesby himself had certainly lost money, and a great
deal of money; but how?[191] "He spent much above his rate [income], and
so wasted also good part of his living." He was guilty of "excess of
play and apparel." He also had to pay "L3000 before he got out" of
prison, where he had been put for joining in the ill-fated rising of
Essex. Even after all these losses, he was able to live among men of
wealth, if not in his own country-house at Lapworth, in Warwickshire.
[191] _Narrative of the Gunpowder Plot_, p. 55.
Ambrose Rokeby was[192] "a gentleman of good worth in the county of
Suffolk, and of a very ancient family, and himself the heir of the
eldest house." At the time of the plot he had a great many horses, and
was evidently a rich man. John Grant was[193] "a man of sufficient
estate." Francis Tresham was[194] "a gentleman of Northamptonshire of
great estate, esteemed then worth L3000 a year," a sum, of course,
equivalent to a very large income in these days. Robert Winter was[195]
"a gentleman of good estate in Worcestershire." Thomas Percy,[196]
although not a rich landowner, held the lucrative post of agent and
administrator to his cousin, the Earl of Northumberland. The "means were
not great" of Robert Keyes, John and Christopher Wright, and Thomas
Winter; but most of them seem to have been able to live in good society,
and their want of money was for the most part owing to their being
younger sons, being "very wild,"[197] or living "in good sort and of the
best,"[198] when their circumstances did not justify their doing so. As
for Sir Everard Digby, it is scarcely necessary to repeat that he had
been a rich man to begin with, and had increased his wealth by marrying
an heiress. These, then, are the men who, we are told, were driven to
desperation by their sufferings, and conspired together to commit a most
horrible and murderous crime, while thousands of Catholics who were
literally ruined, by fines for their religion which they were unable to
pay, bore their troubles in silence, and with Christian fortitude and
resignation.
[192] _Ib._, p. 85.
[193] _Ib._, p. 86.
[194] _Ib._, p. 90.
[195] _Ib._, p. 58.
[196] _Ib._, p. 57.
[197] _Narrative of the Gunpowder Plot_, p. 59.
[198] _Ib._, p. 58.
In connection with this matter, there is one more point to be
considered. The sudden and unpremeditated assault of a man in despair is
sometimes to be excused, and often to be regarded with comparative
lenience. What looks like murder at first sight, at second may prove to
be only man-slaughter, under such circumstances. Does any such excuse
exist for the Gunpowder Plot? Was it a violent attempt made on the spur
of the moment, or was it the result of lengthy, deliberate, and anxious
forethought? Was it the work of an hour, a day, a week, or even a month.
On the contrary, so far as can be ascertained, at least a year and a
quarter, and more probably a year and a half, of careful scheming and
calculation were devoted to it.[199]
[199] See Jardine's _G. P._, p. 27; also _Father Garnet and the G.
P._, p. 4.
It has been said, in excuse for the conspirators, that there are reasons
for suspecting the idea of the Gunpowder Plot to have been conceived in
the first instance by Cecil, who had it suggested to Catesby, through a
third person--possibly Mounteagle--with the deliberate intention of
bringing discredit upon the English Catholics, and thereby giving cause
for the enactment of severer measures for their repression. This may
remind some of my readers that, at the height of the agrarian crime in
Ireland, during the last quarter of the nineteenth century, many good
Irish Catholics were persuaded, or persuaded themselves, that the
outrages were invented, instigated, and encouraged, if not actually
perpetrated, at the suggestion of the authorities at Dublin Castle, in
order to throw discredit upon "the poor, oppressed Irish peasantry," and
to give an excuse for "persecuting" them with renewed vigour.
As to the question whether Cecil originated the Gunpowder Plot as a bait
with which to entrap Catholic priests, Jesuits, and laymen, if there be
any grounds for it, it certainly has great historic interests; but
whether Cecil, or the Devil, or both, put the idea into the heads of the
conspirators, little, if at all, affects their guilt.