It is to be lamented that Catesby, not content with giving an account of
the failure of the plot to Sir Everard Digby, added to it a lie. In his
examination,[271] Digby stated that Catesby "told him that now was the
time for men to stirre in the Catholick cause, for though the sayd Ro.
Katesbie had bin disappointed of his first intention, yet there was such
a pudder bredd in the State by _y{e} death of the King and the Earle of
Salisburie_, as if true Catholiques would now stirre, he doubted not but
they might procure to themselves good conditions. Wherefore by all the
bondes of frendshippe to him self and all which that cause might require
at this examt{s}. handes, he urged this exam{t}. to proceede in that
businesse as him self and all that companie would do, and as he had
great assurance all other Catholiques in those parts would do the like:
telling me that there were two gentlemen in the companie, naming the
Littletons, that would bring 1000 men the next day."
[271] S.P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. No. 94.
The King and Lord Salisbury both killed, and a promise of a thousand men
from one family alone!
This was something to start with, even though the parliament had not
been destroyed; and in the general "pudder" that had been "bredd," the
Catholics might possibly succeed in obtaining good terms, if not the
reins of government. So was Sir Everard persuaded by Catesby, who was
not only a traitor to his country, but a deceiver of his friends.
The conspirators assumed that their names would be soon, if not already,
known to the Government, as Fawkes would almost certainly be tortured
until he revealed them; and, brave as he was, there was no saying
whether he would be able to withstand the temptations of putting an end
to his agonies on the rack by giving the names of his employers and
accomplices.
Besides all this, Catesby pretended that their case was by no means
hopeless. No Catholics were more discontented with the Government than
those in Wales and the English counties which bordered on it; few,
again, as a body, were more powerful. Let the party at Dunchurch,
therefore, start at once, said Catesby, with their servants and
retainers, ride through Warwickshire and Worcestershire into Wales,
rallying the Catholic gentry with their followers to their standard as
they went along; and, so soon as they should be in considerable numbers,
let them proclaim a general insurrection of the Catholics of England.
Were it once to be known that a Catholic army was established in the
West, others would certainly be raised in different parts of the
country.
One man of power and influence he felt sure he could count upon: this
was Talbot[272] of Grafton--a place not far from Coughton. Talbot was a
zealous Catholic; he was heir presumptive to the Earldom of Shrewsbury;
and his wife was a daughter of the Sir William Petre who had been
Secretary of State to Queen Mary. He would be the more likely to join
them, as he had suffered imprisonment and penalties for his religion
under Elizabeth. Another reason for hoping for his adherence was the
fact that his son-in-law, Robert Winter, was already one of the sworn
conspirators, and had slept at his house only two nights earlier. Percy
also came in and said that he was certain "all forces in those parts
about Mr Talbot would assist" them. This assurance evidently weighed
considerably with Sir Everard; for he afterwards wrote[273]:--"We all
thought if we could procure Mr Talbot to rise that ... that was not
little, because we had in our Company his Son-in-Law, who gave us some
hope of, and did not much doubt of it."
[272] S.P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. No. 94.
[273] _Papers or Letters of Sir E. Digby_, n. 9.
Of one thing there could be no sort of question; if action was to be
taken at all, it must be taken at once, and without the delay of a
moment: time was everything; the rapid journey of the conspirators from
London was already much in their favour, and this advantage would be
thrown away if there were to be any dallying or indecision. Grafton,
Talbot's place, was about five and twenty miles from where they were
then standing, and it would be of the utmost importance to reach it, or
send an envoy there, early the next morning.
Before condemning Digby for proceeding further, now that the main plot
had failed, we must remember that he had sworn to be faithful to the
conspiracy, and that, in their present straits, it might have been as
much as his life was worth to refuse to go on with Catesby and his
fellows. We have seen how narrowly Tresham escaped Catesby's dagger.
There were others, however, not bound by any oath or promise, whose
immediate support was required. The so-called hunting-party assembled at
the inn must needs be enlisted in the service. Scraps of the terrible
news had already been passed from one to the other; for many, if not
most of them, were well acquainted with the fugitives from London, and
were eagerly questioning them concerning particulars. Digby and Catesby
found the party in a state of great excitement when they went to summon
them formally to join in the insurrection.
To the surprise of Sir Everard Digby and the disgust of Catesby, instead
of rallying as one man to the call to arms, almost as one man they
refused, with horror, to have anything whatever to do with an enterprise
which had begun with an attempt at wholesale massacre, and promised to
end in the hanging, drawing, and quartering of all who had a share in
it.
Sir Everard's own uncle, Sir Robert Digby,[274] was the very first to
charge the conspirators with being a band of traitors, and to order his
men and horses to be got ready for immediate departure. With scarcely
any exceptions, the other guests followed his example, not only
condemning the treason, but also reproaching the traitors with having
gravely injured the Catholic cause. To join in a legitimate warfare,
even a civil warfare, was one thing; to acquiesce in an attempted
murder, a murder on a gigantic scale, and to endeavour to profit by the
terror brought about by that attempted murder, was quite another. And
besides all this; if they complained of having been invited to hunt and
hawk at Dunchurch on false pretences, who could blame them? No doubt
they were very angry. Besides, they were but mortal, and to be suddenly
disturbed and required to decide hastily upon a most serious question,
involving immediate action, is more disagreeable during the process of
digestion, just after the principal meal of the day, than at any other
time; and as the country squires, who had come to Dunchurch to enjoy
good sport, scrambled into their uncleaned, and very likely but
half-dried riding-clothes, and went out into the dark, damp night, to
mount their horses for long, dreary journeys over bad roads towards
their homes, they cannot have felt in the best of tempers.
[274] He afterwards "assisted in taking prisoners" of some of the
conspirators. S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi.; G. P. Bk., n. 142.
It may be worth noticing here, that Sir Robert was not the only member
of the Digby family who gave the Government assistance in respect to the
Gunpowder Plot.[275] "Lord Harrington, who had the care of the Princess
Elizabeth, having received some intimation of an attempt to seize her,
immediately sent up John Digby, a younger son of Sir George Digby, to
court, with an account of all he knew; where the young gentleman told
the tale so well as to acquire thereby the King's good graces, who not
long after knighted, employed him in long negotiation in Spain, and Sep.
15th, 1622, created him Earl of Bristol. His son was the famous George
Digby, &c." Accordingly, if the Gunpowder Plot marred the fortunes of
one branch of the Digby family, it made those of another!
[275] _Biographia Britannica_, Vol. iii. p. 184.
Sir Everard was as much astonished as he was dispirited at finding that
the "powder-action," far from being approved of, was repudiated with
horror by the friends whom he had assembled at Dunchurch. He had
expected them to have looked at the matter in a very different light. He
can scarcely have failed now to see that, even if the plot had
succeeded, the Catholics, as a body, would have condemned it, and
refused to profit by it. Still he was weak enough to yield to Catesby's
urgent requests to proceed with the insurrection and to endeavour to
raise forces in Warwickshire, Worcestershire, and Wales.
The band of conspirators, with the very few friends who chose to stay
with them, then held a council of war; they were "prepared to stand in
Armes and raise rebellion,"[276] and they determined to start at once on
their journey, so as to enlist Mr Talbot to their support, as early as
possible on the morrow, and give him the whole day to rally his numerous
retainers round the standard of the little army of traitors and would-be
murderers.
[276] Stow's _Annales_, p. 880.
Although five of the party had just ridden eighty miles at considerable
speed, they swung themselves into the saddle again for a long night's
march. Even if the whole hunting-party had remained there would not have
been a large body of horsemen; in all the number present at Dunchurch
was only eighty;[277] but some of the friends who had refused to have
anything to do with the expedition were influential men, who could soon
have raised substantial troops, even from among their own retainers. The
party that actually started from Dunchurch under the command of the
conspirators, according to Sir Everard Digby,[278] "were not above
fiftie horse."
[277] Examination of J. Fowes, S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xvi. n. 19.
Letter enclosed from the Sheriff and Justices of Warwickshire.
[278] S. P. Dom. James I., G. P. Bk., Part II. n. 135. H.
It was a wretched little cavalcade: if it had anything military about
it, it was more of a recruiting party than an army, and its stealthy
creeping forth from the inn, that November night, in darkness and
dejection, was very different from the triumphant dash of the entire
"hunting-party" upon Combe Abbey, to seize the Princess Elizabeth and
take her from the keeping of Lord Harington, which had been laid down in
the programme. The discovery of the plot, the arrest of Fawkes, and the
seizure of the gunpowder was bad enough; and now, the refusal of the
trusted, influential, and powerful Catholic landowners who had been
assembled at Dunchurch to have hand or part in what they considered a
detestable rebellion, added ten-fold to the disappointment of Sir
Everard and his companions.
The road of the rebels lay through Warwick, and it was remembered that
there, in the stable of a poor horse-breaker of cavalry re-mounts, they
would be able to supply themselves with fresh horses. Even two of the
leading conspirators--I wish I could say that Sir Everard Digby had been
one of them--winced at this act of felony! Rookwood, as he subsequently
admitted in examination,[279] "meant not to adventure himself in
stealing any" horses, as he had already fifteen or sixteen; and Robert
Winter[280] tried to persuade Catesby "to let it alone, alleging that it
would make a great uproar in the country, and that once done," they
"might not rest anywhere, the country would so rise about" them.
[279] Jardine, p. 111, footnote.
[280] S. P., Robert Winter's Confession, 21 Jan, 1605-6.
Catesby's reply was ominous. "Some of us may not look back."
"But others," said Winter, "I hope, may, and therefore, I pray you, let
this alone."
Then Catesby spoke words in ill accordance with those which he had used
to encourage Digby before leaving Dunchurch. "What! hast thou any hope,
Robin? I assure thee there is none that knoweth of this action but shall
perish."
On reaching Warwick, they left the trunk-horses with their
attendants[281] at the entrance to the town, in case their intended raid
should lead to any scrimmage or retaliation; and then they proceeded to
the horse-breakers' stable and stole nine or ten horses. This took about
half-an-hour, and when the robbery had been accomplished, they sent back
for the trunk-horses and proceeded on their night-journey.
[281] See the examination of Richard Hollis, S. P. Gunpowder
Treason, 1605, Part II. No. 138.
It was not far from Warwick to Norbrook, the house of John Grant, one of
the conspirators. Here they made a brief halt, and, on entering the
hall, they found two tables furnished with muskets and armour.[282]
After taking a very short rest--William Handy, one of Sir Everard's
servants, says half-an-hour;[283] but Jardine says an hour or two,[284]
and Richard Hollis, a servant of Sir Everard's, says, "some
howres,"[285]--the cavalcade again started on its dark nocturnal march.
The intention of its leaders was to ride to Huddington, near Droitwich,
the house of Robert Winter; and on the way thither, to send a messenger
a little to the right of their road, with a letter to Father Garnet at
Coughton, explaining the desperate position in which they were placed.
On arriving at Huddington, their host was to be sent to his
father-in-law, Talbot of Grafton, to inform him of all that had
happened, and to urge him to join the insurrection with as many men as
he could muster.
[282] S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, Part II. No. 121.
[283] _Ib._
[284] P. 111.
[285] S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, Part II. No. 138.
Some time after sunrise, which does not take place at that time of the
year till after seven o'clock, they drew near Alcester, and despatched
their messenger to Coughton. The man chosen was Catesby's servant,
Thomas Bates, the only menial who was a sworn conspirator. Besides the
letter to Father Garnet, he was entrusted with one for Lady Digby,
written by her husband.
The most trying part of Sir Everard Digby's long and gloomy ride must
have been to pass within a couple of miles of his wife and children, as
he went through Alcester in the early morning, without going to see
them. Well-horsed, as he was, it might almost appear that he could have
made time to visit them for at least a few minutes, and then ridden on
to Huddington, where the expedition was to make a long halt. Did he
hesitate to go to Coughton through fear of Catesby, or was he afraid to
trust himself in the presence of his wife?
When Bates arrived at Coughton, he was taken at once to Father Garnet,
who was in the hall,[286] and he handed the letter to the priest, who
opened it and read it in silence.
[286] For accounts of Bates's visit to Coughton, see Bates's
Examination, Jan. 13, 1605-6; Hall's Confession, Mar. 6, 1605-6; and
Jardine's G. P., pp. 167-8.
I will give Father Garnet's own description[287] of this letter, which
"was subscribed by Sir E. Digby and Catesbye." "The effect of this
letter was to excuse their rashness, and required my assistance in
Wales, and persuade me to make a party, saying that if I had
scrupulosity or desire to free myself or my Order from blame and let
them now perish, I should follow after myselfe and all Catholics."
[287] S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xviii. n. 87; Exam. of H. Garnet,
Feb. 13, 1605-6. See Records S. J., Vol. iv. p. 146.
While Father Garnet was reading the letter, Father Greenway came in and
asked what was the matter. Thereupon Father Garnet read the letter in
the hearing of Bates, and said to Greenway, "They would have blown up
the Parliament House, and were discovered and we all utterly undone."
Father Greenway replied that in that case "there was no tarrying for
himself and Garnet." Then Bates begged Father Greenway to go with him
to Catesby, his master, if he really wished to help him. Father Greenway
answered that he "would not forbear to go unto him though it were to
suffer a thousand deaths, but that it would overthrow the state of the
whole society of the Jesuits' order."
When Father Garnet had read the letter to Father Greenway, the latter
exclaimed, "All Catholics are undone."
Father Garnet, in an intercepted letter, gives a pathetic account of the
effect of her husband's letter upon Lady Digby.[288] "My Lady Digby
came. What did she? Alas! what, but cry."
[288] "Father Garnet and the Gunpowder Plot," Pollen, p. 23.
He tells us, too, the answer which he gave to the messenger, Bates.
"That I marvelled they would enter into such wicked actions and not be
ruled by the advice of friends and order of His Holiness generally given
to all, and that I could not meddle but wished them to give over, and if
I could do anything in such a matter (as I neither could nor would) it
were in vain now to attempt it."
Then the two fathers drew aside and talked together for half-an-hour,
while Bates walked up and down the hall. After this, Father Greenway
went to prepare himself for his journey, and presently came out with
Bates, mounted a horse, and rode with him to Huddington in order to see
his penitent, Catesby.
Father Greenway's riding companion was not only one of the
conspirators, but had helped[289] "in making provision of their powder."
He confessed in prison the whole matter of his having been sent by
Catesby, his master, with a letter to Father Garnet at Coughton, and
that Father Greenway had accompanied him from that house to Huddington
in order to visit Catesby.
[289] _Narrative of the Gunpowder Plot_, Gerard, p. 84.
We must return to Sir Everard, as he rode from Alcester to Huddington.
One of his servants, named Hardy, came up to him, during this part of
his journey, and asked him[290] what was to become "of him and the rest
of his poore servants," who, as he pitifully protested, had not been
"privy to this bloudy faction." Such a question, although it did not
savour of mutiny, showed an inclination to defection, and must have
added considerably to his master's discouragement. The answer which he
gave to it was as follows:--"I believe you were not;" _i.e._, privy to
the plot; "but now there is no remedy." The servant then let out that it
was not solely on his own account that he had asked the question; for he
went on to implore his master to yield himself to the king's mercy;
whereupon Sir Everard said sharply that he would permit no servant to
utter such words in his presence.
[290] S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, Part II. No. 121.
Catesby and his band of warriors, brigands, horse-stealers, professors
of physical force, or whatever else the reader may please to call them,
reached Huddington about two o'clock on the Wednesday afternoon.[291]
The first thing they did was to place sentinels round the house,[292]
which was rendered suitable for defence by its moat.[293] Then they
proceeded to take their first long rest, that is to say, until early on
the following morning, a sorely needed period of refreshment and repose,
especially for those who had ridden the whole way from London. Where so
large a party can have been entertained and lodged at Huddington, it is
difficult to understand, as the house, which is now used as a farm, rich
as it is in carved oak, is not, and probably never was, a large one.
[291] The G. P., Jardine, p. 111.
[292] S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, Part II. n. 121.
[293] "The mansion-house, which is moated round, but now in a very
ruinous condition, having been much neglected ever since the
gunpowder treason in 1606, in which plot the Winters were deeply
concerned." _Nash's Worcestershire_, Vol. i. p. 592.
During the first few hours of their stay, however, the leading
conspirators were awaiting the return of the envoy from Grafton with too
much anxiety to be able to sleep or take their ease. Almost everything
hung upon the reply of Talbot. The assistance of the large number of men
and horses which it was in his power to supply was of the utmost
importance at that very critical moment, and on his influence and
example might depend the attitude of all the Catholic gentry in
Worcestershire, as well as in several of the counties adjoining it.
Just as it was beginning to grow dark, two horsemen rode up to the door
of Huddington, and the ambassadors, Robert Winter and Stephen Littleton,
entered the house. Sir Everard Digby and Catesby eagerly went up to them
and asked the result of their embassy; but, before they had had time to
reply, it was evident from the expression of their faces that they
brought bad news. On reaching Grafton, said Winter, they found that the
report of the Gunpowder Plot and its failure had arrived there before
them. Their approach had been observed, perhaps watched for, and, as
they rode up to the curious "L"-shaped house, with its gothic chapel at
one end of it, Sir John Talbot himself stood at its arched doorway,[294]
with a frown upon his countenance.[295] As soon as they were within
earshot, he forbade them to enter his house. He then told them that he
had already heard of the plot, which he condemned in the strongest
terms, together with all that had been, or were, connected with it,
whether personal friends of his own or otherwise. He was a very zealous
Catholic, and he regarded the whole conspiracy as one of the worst evils
that could possibly have befallen the Catholics of England, since it
would bring scandal upon their very name, and increase the persecutions
which they suffered.
[294] "Like the gateway of the schools of Oxford, but of much more
antient date." _Nash's Worcestershire_, Vol. i. p. 258.
[295] Possibly he may have remembered that a former owner of
Grafton, Sir Humphrey Stafford, had been executed at Tyburn for
treason, rather more than a century earlier.
When Robert Winter not only defended the plot but urged Sir John to
join the band of Catholics who intended to make a struggle for their
freedom, his father-in-law threatened that, although he was a Catholic,
a neighbour, and his son-in-law, he would have him arrested if he did
not make off as quickly as his horse's legs could carry him.[296]
[296] The greater part of Grafton was burned down about 1710.
_Nash_, Vol. i. p. 158.
As soon as Robert Winter had finished his story, the conspirators were
plunged into the deepest dejection. Not one of them would be more
depressed by the bad news than Sir Everard Digby. The rest were all more
or less of a wild adventurous spirit, and probably had realised sooner
than he to what a desperate issue the conspiracy had already arrived;
but Sir Everard had been deceived by Catesby into believing the king and
Salisbury to be dead, and until now he had clung to the hope that the
best Catholics in England, when they heard of what had been attempted,
would unite with himself and his companions in a holy war. Sir John
Talbot was the type of Catholic by whose side he had hoped to fight for
the faith, a man full of zeal and unflinching energy for the Catholic
cause, as well as an honourable English gentleman. It was chiefly on the
guarantee of his adherence and assistance, too, that Sir Everard had
consented to Catesby's entreaties to ride away from Dunchurch with the
rest of the conspirators, and attempt to raise the Catholics against
the Government; and now Sir John Talbot repudiated Sir Everard, his
friends, and his actions.
A more gloomy party than that at Huddington can rarely have been
assembled at an English country house. The hostess, Robert Winter's
wife, was indeed to be pitied. In her presence there was[297] "no talk
of rebellion," as she afterwards declared; but she must have known what
was going forward, and have learned something of the disastrous failure
of the appeal to her father, whose censure of her husband must have
caused her the greatest pain. A few weeks later she was made to endure
the distress of an examination before officials on the subject.[298]
[297] Cal. Sta. Pa. Dom., 1603-10, p. 245.
[298] S. P. Gunpowder Plot Book, n. 43.
In the course of the day, Father Greenway came to Huddington with
Catesby's servant, Thomas Bates. Sir Everard does not appear to have
seen him, for he wrote[299]:--"They said Mr Greenway came to Huddington
when we were there and had speech of Mr" [probably Catesby], "but I told
them it was more than I took note of, and that I did not know him very
well."
[299] _Sir E. D.'s Letters_, paper 3.
Catesby, however, received Father Greenway with delight. On first seeing
him, he exclaimed that "Here at least was a gentleman who would live and
die with them."[300] But Greenway seems to have paid them a very short
visit; and he was evidently commissioned by Catesby to go to a
neighbouring landlord and enlist him to the cause; for he rode away the
same afternoon to Henlip, or Hindlip,[301] a house about four miles off,
belonging to Thomas Abington, or Habingdon, a man famed for his
hospitality to priests flying from persecution. On arriving at Hindlip,
Father Greenway told Abington that he had[302] "brought them the worst
newes that ever they hade, and sayd they were all undone"; that "ther
were certayne gentlemen that meant to have blown upp the Parliament
house, and that ther plot was discovered a day or two before, and now
ther were gathered together some forty horse at Mr Wynter's house,
meaning Catesbye, Percye, Digby, and others, and tould them," _i.e._,
Abington and his household, "their throates would be cutt unlesse they
presently wente to joyne with them." Abington replied, "Alas, I am
sorye;" but he said that he[303] "would never ioyne with them in that
matter, and chardged all his house to that purpose not to goe unto
them."
[300] Exam. of Bates, 13 Jan. 1606; G. P. Book, Gardiner's _Hist.
Eng._, Declaration of Morgan, 10 Jan.; G. P. Book; Vol. i. p. 260.
[301] A very curious house, said to have been built by John
Habington, cofferer to Queen Elizabeth. _Nash's Worcestershire_,
Vol. i. p. 585. This house has been pulled down, and a large modern
mansion has been built in its place by the Allsopp family, the head
of which, Lord Hindlip, takes his title from it.
[302] G. P. Book, Vol ii. n. 197. Exam. of Oldcorne, Mar. 6, 1605,
[6].
[303] Nevertheless, Abington was condemned to death, because Father
Garnet was found in his house, a few weeks later. He was eventually
reprieved; but his lands and goods were forfeited. See _Narrative of
the G. P._, Gerard, p. 268. He was "confined to Worcestershire on
account of the Gunpowder Treason Plot," and became "The first
Collector of Antiquities for that County. Died Oct. 1647, aged 87."
_Nash's Worcestershire_, Vol i. Illustrations to p. 588. His wife,
sister to Lord Mounteagle, "is supposed to have wrote the letter
which discovered the Gunpowder Treason Plot;" _ib._
Father Oldcorne, another Jesuit, was present at Hindlip[304] when this
interview took place, and he also assured Father Greenway that[305] he
would have nothing to do with the conspiracy or the insurrection. As we
shall have little, if anything, more to do with Father Greenway, it may
be worth observing here that he escaped from England[306] in "a small
boat laden with dead pigs, of which cargo he passed as the owner," and
that he lived thirty years afterwards. A ridiculous story was reported
from Naples, in 1610, by Sir Edwin Rich, that Father Greenway (alias
Beaumont) was plotting to send King James some poisoned clothes, which
would be death to the wearer.[307]
[304] Father Garnet was finally arrested at Hindlip, with several
others. In their hiding-place their "maintenance had been by a quill
or reed, through a whole in the chimney that backed another chimney
into the gentlewoman's chamber, and by that passage cawdles, broths,
and warm drinks had been conveyed in unto them." Ashmole MSS., Vol.
804, fol. 93, quoted by Nash, Vol. i. p. 586.
[305] Narrative of the G. P., Gerard, p. 268.
[306] _Troubles of our Catholic Forefathers_, by Father John Morris,
S. J., First Series, pp. 143-4.
[307] S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. lvii. n. 92.
While at Huddington, Sir Everard and most of the other conspirators
probably went to confession to Father Hart, the priest who had said mass
for them at Dunchurch; for he was afterwards "charged with having heard
the confessions and absolved the conspirators, two days after the
discovery of the Plot,"[308] and this is confirmed by Sir Everard's
servant, Handy, who said[309] "that on Thursday morning about three of
the clock all the said companie as servaunts as others heard masse,
receaved the sacrament and were confessed, w{ch}. masse was said by a
priest named Harte, a little man, whitely complexion and a little
beard." If the conspirators really made full confessions with true
sorrow for their terrible sins, on this occasion, nothing could have
been better or more opportune. If not,--well, the less said the better!
The same witness stated that on that Thursday morning, at about six
o'clock, Sir Everard, who had had four fresh horses sent to him from
Coughton,[310] and the rest of the party were again in the saddle, and
the whole band started in a northerly direction for Whewell Grange, a
house belonging to Lord Windsor, having added to the procession "a cart
laden w{th}. trunckes, pikes, and other munition," from Huddington. On
their way towards Whewell Grange "four of the principall gent."[311]
rode in front of the procession, and four behind it "to kepe the company
from starting away," _i.e._, deserting.
[308] _Records S. J._, Series I., p. 173.
[309] S. P. Gunpowder Treason, Part II. No. 121.
[310] S. P. Dom. James I., G. P. Bk., Part II. No. 135, D.
[311] _Ib._
They reached Lord Windsor's house,[312] about noon, and all dismounted,
"saving some fewe whoe sate on their horses to watch whoe should come
unto the howse." They then made their second raid. It was not for
horses, as at Warwick; this time they sought for arms and armour, of
which there was a large store at Whewell Grange. They appear to have met
with no resistance, from which we may infer that, to use a modern and
vulgar phrase, "the family were from home." When they had all armed
themselves, they put the remainder into a cart, while they filled
another with a quantity of powder. These two carts then formed part of
the procession. Sir Everard Digby can scarcely have failed to feel shame
at the plunder of Whewell Grange. What had Lord Windsor done that his
house should be pillaged? He had served his country as a sailor, and he
eventually became a Rear Admiral of the Fleet. Why should his things be
taken feloniously from his home during his absence? His father had died
only seven months earlier, and the funeral hatchment was most likely
hanging over the doorway when these thieves entered. While the robbers
were ransacking the house--I fear that Sir Everard Digby was among
them--some of the neighbouring peasants and villagers came up, out of
curiosity, to see what was going on. As he came out of the
house, Catesby saw from twenty to thirty of them standing
about.[313]
[312] Whewell, or Hewell Grange, had belonged to the Abbey of
Bordesley, and had been given, soon after the dissolution of the
monasteries, to Sir Andrew Windsor by Hen. VIII. in exchange for the
manor of Stanwell in Middlesex. A new house was built at Whewell
about 1712. "Here is a pleasant park having hills gently swelling,
and a lake of clear water measuring above 30 acres." _Nash's
Worcestershire_, Vol ii. p. 423.
[313] Thomas Maunder's Examination, Nov. 1605, and Ellis's
Examination, Nov. 21, 1605. S. P. Dom. James I., Gunpowder Plot Bk.,
n. 62 and 108.
"Will you come with us?" said he.
"Maybe we would, if we knew what you mean to do," was the reply.
"We are for God and the country!" said Catesby.
Then one of the men, who was leaning with his back against a wall,
struck the ground with his stick and cried, "We are for the King James,
as well as for God and the country, and we will not go against his
will."
And now, with their arms, armour, gunpowder, and horses, which had been
for the most part begged, borrowed, or stolen, the little party of
filibusters started again, in a northerly direction, towards Holbeche
House, Stephen Littleton's place in Staffordshire. Although more
soldierlike in appearance, owing to their armour--their want now was not
of armour, but of men to wear it--they felt much less martial at heart
than on leaving Dunchurch two days earlier. They were greatly
discouraged at finding that no volunteers rallied to their ranks; that,
when they rode up to the houses of any of the Catholic gentry, they were
invariably driven with reproaches and ignominy from their doors as the
greatest enemies of the Catholic cause, which they were told they had
brought into disrepute by their misguided and iniquitous zeal.
[314] "Notwithstanding of their fair shews and pretence of their
Catholick cause," says Bishop Barlow, "no creature, man or woman,
through all that countrey would once so much as give them willingly a
cup of drink, or any sort of comfort or support, but with execrations
detested them." This not only chilled the hearts of the leaders, but
also alarmed their followers, who saw them leaving one large Catholic
house after another crestfallen in expression and without a single
recruit in their train. To add to their depression, the roads were bad,
and in many places deep with mud, and the weather was stormy and very
wet.[315] Instead of increasing, as Sir Everard and his friends had
hoped and expected, their numbers steadily diminished, and they were
soon reduced to thirty-six or less.[316] Their men still further lagged
behind and disappeared, and the leaders of the expedition threatened
those who remained that the next man who attempted to desert should be
instantly shot. When they rested, Sir Everard and his companions took it
in turn to watch their men with a loaded pistol, determined to make an
example of the first deserter they could get a shot at. When they rode
on, they endeavoured to be equally vigilant; but with such a straggling,
wearied, undisciplined cavalcade, in a wooded country like
Worcestershire, on a dark and misty November afternoon, it was
impossible to prevent men from sneaking away unperceived, and the
desertions hourly continued.
[314] _Gunpowder Treason_, p. 67.
[315] Jardine, 112.
[316] Gardiner's Hist. Eng., Vol. i. p. 261.
Sir Everard's spirits drooped more and more. "Not one man came to take
our part, though we expected so many,"[317] he says. As to the common
people in the villages and the small towns through which the irregular
train passed, they merely stood and gazed at them without showing the
least inclination to join them.
[317] Digby's Examination. S.P.O. James I. Dom., 2 Dec. 1605.
In the course of the day (Thursday, Nov. 7th), Sir Everard and his
allies had a fresh cause of anxiety. On looking back, one of them
descried a small body of horsemen in the distance. Filled with hope,
thinking that it consisted of Catholics from the neighbourhood coming to
join them, they halted, to enable the riders to come up, but, to their
disappointment, the other party pulled up also. This was suspicious, and
still more so when the mysterious group moved slowly after them on their
starting again. Evidently the horsemen in their rear were watching their
movements with no friendly intentions. To the conspirators, their
distant but ever following figures must have produced sensations not
unlike those caused to worn-out travellers by the appearance of vultures
in the desert. So long as it was light, they kept catching occasional
glimpses of them, and, worst of all, the band of "shadowers" was
increasing in numbers and venturing nearer and nearer. The conspirators
and their followers were not in actual flight; indeed, they professed to
be recruiting for their "army"; but they were none the less steadily, if
slowly, pursued by a body of horsemen exceeding their own in numbers,
though not so well armed.
It would be difficult to imagine anything more wretched than the little
band of conspirators as they wended their way through the Warwickshire,
Worcestershire, and Staffordshire lanes and villages. Fagged and haggard
were the men, on jaded and weary steeds, and their helmets, pikes, and
pistols gave them an almost comical appearance of martial masquerade.
The cart-loads of unused armour and weapons were terribly suggestive of
failure, and the conspirators' appeals to the able-bodied men, who stood
gazing at them from the doors of wayside inns and from village
cross-roads, were met either with insult, laughter, or stolid
indifference.
To a man like Sir Everard Digby, who had been accustomed to meet with
respect, honour, and deference wherever he went, all this must have been
exceptionally galling, and it would be made the more bitter by his
observing that several of his companions were passing through a part of
the country where they were well known and once honoured. He had
expected to be received with cheers and enthusiasm at every Catholic
house on his route for his attempt to better the condition of his
co-religionists, and to see squires, yeomen, and peasants either
hurrying to horse and to arms, or imploring for a headpiece and a sword
or halberd from the store in the waggons of the little train; and what
did he find?--the door of every Catholic house shut against him, or only
opened for an out-pouring of reproaches and repudiations; the Catholics,
from the highest to the lowest, shaking their heads at him and bidding
him begone; and his carts of arms, armour, and gunpowder eyed with
anger, scorn, and derision. Instead of regarding him as the best friend
of their cause, the Catholic squires treated him as if he were its worst
enemy; and, as they turned their backs upon himself and his friends and
his followers, they gave him to understand that they considered the
"powder-action," which he protested was intended for the relief of the
professors of the ancient faith, one of the most madly-conceived,
iniquitous, and prejudicial projects ever undertaken by people bearing
the name of Christians.
When we think of Sir Everard Digby accoutred and armed as if he were the
leader of an army numbered by thousands, but actually surrounded by
little more than a couple of dozen bedraggled and disheartened horsemen,
all heavily, indeed over-armed, yet weary and unmilitary-looking to the
last degree, himself haggard and anxious in countenance, yet vainly
endeavouring to keep up a martial, knightly, and prosperous bearing,
under conditions that rendered any such attempt ridiculous, we are
inevitably reminded of that famous character of fiction, Don Quixote de
la Mancha.