Sir Everard appears to have received several kind communications, whilst
in the Tower, from Father Gerard, if we may judge from some of his
remarks concerning "my brother" in his letters to Lady Digby.
For instance, we find him writing[371]:--"Let my Brother see this, or
know its Contents, tell him I love his sweet comforts as my greatest
Jewel in this Place"; in another,[372] "I give my Brother many thanks
for his sweet comforts, and assure him that now I desire death; for the
more I think on God's mercy the more I hope in my own case: though
others have censured our Intentions otherwise than I understood them to
be, and though the Act be thought so wicked by those of Judgment, yet I
hope that my understanding it otherwise, with my Sorrow for my Error,
will find acceptance at God's hands." In another he sends a warning to
him,[373] "Howsoever my Brother is informed, I am sure they fear him for
knowledge of the Plot, for at every examination I am told that he did
give the Sacrament to five at one time." And once again,[374] he
says:--"Tell my Brother I do honour him as befits me, but I did not
think I could have increased so much, loving him more as his charitable
Lessons _would_ make me."
[371] _Sir E.D.'s Letters_, No. 1.
[372] _Ib._, No. 4.
[373] _Ib._, No. 5.
[374] _Sir E. D.'s Letters_, No. 6.
But if Father Gerard had sent very consoling messages to Sir Everard in
his imprisonment; on one occasion--it was within a few days of the
trial--he wrote him a formal letter, which he sent to Lord Salisbury and
the Duke of Lenox, asking them to give it to Sir Everard and hear what
he might say in answer to it. To Salisbury himself he wrote another
letter, in the course of which he said[375]:--"Sir Everard Digby can
testify for me, how ignorant I was of any such matter" [as the Gunpowder
Plot], "but two days before that unnatural parricide should have been
practised. I have, for full trial thereof, enclosed a letter unto him,
which I humbly beseech may be delivered, &c."
[375] S. P. Dom. James I., Vol. xviii. n. 35. But I avail myself of
the endering in "Life of Fr. J. Gerard," pp. ccxxxi-ccxxxvii.
At the same time he wrote to the Duke of Lenox, "My humble petition
therefore is, that a witness be asked his knowledge who is well able to
clear me if he will, and I hope he will not be so unjust in this time of
his own danger as to conceal so needful a proof being so demanded of
him. Sir Everard Digby doth well know how far I was from knowledge of
any such matter but two days before the treason was known to all men. I
have therefore written a letter unto him, to require his testimony of
that which passed between him and me at that time. Wherein, if I may
have your lordship's furtherance to have just trial made of the truth
whilst yet he liveth, I shall ever esteem myself most deeply bound, &c,
&c."
This letter to Sir Everard, which, of course, would be read first by
Salisbury and Lenox, began:--"Sir Everard Digby,--I presume so much of
your sincerity both to God and man, that I cannot fear you will be loath
to utter your knowledge for the clearing of one that is innocent from a
most unjust accusation importing both loss of life to him that is
accused, and of good name also, which he much more esteemeth."
Then he says that upon some false information, given, he supposes, "by
some base fellows, desirous to save their lives by the loss of their
honesty,"--this looks as if he suspected some of the conspirators in the
Gunpowder Plot, imprisoned in the Tower--a "proclamation has been issued
against myself and my superior"--this would be Father Garnet--"and one
other of the Society," probably Father Oldcorne, "as against three
notorious practisers, with divers of the principal conspirators in this
late most odious treason of destroying the King's Majesty and all in the
Parliament House with powder. And myself am put in the first place, as
the first or chiefest offender therein."
He calls God to witness that he knew nothing of the plot until it became
known publicly; but, he says, "to give more full proof of my innocency
to those who also may doubt my words, I take witness to yourself whether
you, upon your certain knowledge cannot clear me." At first he would not
appeal to Sir Everard because, as he says, "I would not take knowledge
of any personal acquaintance with you, especially at your own house, not
knowing how far you were to be vouched for your life, and therefore
would not add unto your danger,"--_i.e._, by showing that he knew and
had harboured a priest. "But now that it appears by your confession and
trial in the country that you stand at the King's mercy for greater
matters than your acquaintance with a Priest, I hope you will not be
loath, I should publish that which cannot hurt you, and may help myself
in a matter of such importance. And as I know you could never like to
stoop to so base and unworthy a humour as to flatter or dissemble with
any man, so much less can I fear that now (being in the case you are in)
you can ever think it fit to dissemble with God, or not to utter your
every knowledge, being required as from him, and in behalf of truth.
Therefore I desire you will bear witness of the truth which followeth
(if it be true that I affirm of my demand to you, growing upon my
ignorance in the matter then in hand) as you expect truth and mercy at
God's hand hereafter. First, I desire you to bear witness, whether,
coming to your house upon All Souls' Day last--" and then he questions
him upon the details, described in a former chapter, of what took place
at Gothurst upon All Souls' Day, which are mainly taken from this
letter.
He ends by saying, "And thus clear I was from the knowledge of that Plot
against the Parliament House, whereof, notwithstanding, I am accused and
proclaimed to be a practiser with the principal conspirators. But I
refer me to God and your conscience, who are able to clear me, and I
challenge the conscience of any one that certainly expecteth death, and
desireth to die in the fear of God and with hope of His salvation, to
accuse me of it if he can. God, of His mercy, grant unto us all grace to
see and do His will, and to live and die His servants, for they only are
and shall be happy for ever.--Your companion in tribulation though not
in the cause, JOHN GERARD."
Considering the bosom friendship that existed between Gerard and Digby,
and the high opinion of the honourable character expressed, in his
writings, by the former of the latter, these tremendous exhortations to
speak the truth in his favour look a little superfluous. They may have
been intended rather for the eyes of Salisbury and Lennox than for those
of Digby; for anything which could show an excessive familiarity between
Digby and Gerard might have been suspicious evidence against the
latter.
There is a postscript, again, which seems written as a suggestion for
what Digby should say. "I hope you will also witness with me that you
have ever seen me much averted from such violent courses, and hopeful
rather of help by favour than force. And, indeed, if I had not now been
satisfied by your assurance that there was nothing in hand, it should
presently have appeared how much I had misliked any forcible attempts,
the counsel of Christ and the commandment of our superiors requiring the
contrary, and that in patience we should possess our souls."
To give him his due, Sir Everard Digby spoke boldly in Father Gerard's
favour at his trial. Five-and-twenty years later, Father Gerard wrote,
in a letter to Dr Smith, Bishop of Chalcedon,[376] "Sir Everard Digby,
who of all the others, for many reasons, was most suspected of having
possibly revealed the secret to me, protested in open Court and declared
that he had often been instigated to say I knew something of the Plot,
but that he had always answered in the negative, alleging the reason why
he had never disclosed it to me, because, he said, he feared lest I
should dissuade him from it. Therefore the greater part of the Privy
Councillors considered my innocence established, &c."
[376] _Life of Father J. Gerard_, p. ccxxxviii.
Six months later, Father Fitzherbert, Rector of the English College of
Rome, wrote concerning Father Gerard to the same bishop[377] "he was
fully cleared of it" [the Gunpowder Plot] "by the public and solemn
testimony of the delinquents themselves, namely, of Sir Everard Digby
(with whom he was known to be most familiar and confident), who publicly
protested at his arraignment that he did never acquaint him with their
design, being assured that he would not like of it, but dissuade him
from it; and of this I can show good testimony by letters from London
written hither at the time."
[377] Bartoli's _Inghilterra_, pp. 510, 512.
Probably owing, in the main, to Sir Everard's declarations of his
innocence, Father Gerard was allowed to escape from England, and he
survived the Gunpowder Plot thirty-one years. It must not be supposed,
however, that he had never suffered for the faith in this country; for
he had been terribly tortured, some years before the Gunpowder Plot, in
the Tower, from which he escaped.
Topcliffe's description[378] of "Jhon Gerrarde y{e} Jhezew{t} preest that
escaip out of the Tower" may be worthy of a passing notice. "Of a good
stature sum what highe{r} than S{r} Tho. Layton and upright in his paysse
and countenance sum what stayring in his look or Eyes Currilde heire by
Nature and blackyshe and not apt to have much heire on his bearde. I
thincke his noose sum what wide and turninge Upp Blubarde Lipps turninge
outwards Especially the over Lipps most Uppwards toward the Noose
Kewryoos in speetche If he do now contynewe his custome And in his
speetche he flourrethe and smyles much and a falteringe or Lispinge or
dooblinge of his Tonge in his speeche."
[378] S. P. Dom. Elizabeth, Vol. 165 n. 21.
On the very day that Father Gerard's letter for Sir Everard Digby seems
to have been delivered to Lord Salisbury, January 23rd, Sir Everard
himself wrote a long letter to his two little sons, the eldest of which
was not yet three years old. The writing of it must have caused him much
pain; probably, also, many tears. The most remarkable thing about it is
that he does not enter upon the question of the cause of his death. As
his sons would certainly hear of the manner and reason of it, it might
have been well to have spoken plainly on the subject. Nevertheless,
there is something dignified in his assumption of the position of a
parent, in giving good advice to his children, without recounting those
personal faults and follies, which he might, perhaps, consider it no
part of the duty of a father to confess to his sons.
* * * * *
"JESUS MARIA.[379]
"There be many reasons (my dear children) that might disswade me
from putting Pen to Paper in this Kind, and onely one which urgeth
me to undertake this poor and fruitless pains. Wherefore to tell
you what inciteth me to it, is my want of other means to shew my
Fatherly affection to each of you (which is so far from uttering,
as my mind is willing to accept of poor means, rather than none to
bewray my disposition) if I would have been checked from the
performance of these lines, by number and probabilities of reasons;
I might then have called to mind the unlikelihood, that these would
ever have come to your view; with the malice of the world to me,
which (I do imagine) will not fail to endeavour to possess you with
a loathness to hear of anything that comes from me: as also I
might, and do think, on my own disability in advising, with many
other disswasive reasons, which my former recited single stirrer-up
hath banished. Wherefore to begin with both and each of you, I send
you by these my Fatherly and last blessing; which I have not failed
to ask at God's hands on my knees, that he will grant to descend so
effectually on you (that his holy grace accompanying it) it may
work in you the performance (on your part) of God's sweet and just
commandments and on his part to you, the Guerdon that his mercy
inricheth his servants with all. Let this end (God's service I
mean) be the chief and onely contentious strife between you, which
with all vehemency and desire each of you may strive to attain
soonest. Let this be the mark which your thoughts and actions may
still level at; for here is the chiefest Prise, to recompense the
best deserver. Believe me in this (my Sons) that though my unripe
years afford me not general experience, yet my variety of courses
in the world (and God's grace to illumine me) may sufficiently
warrant the verity of this principle. If you make this your chief
business (as you ought to do, and for which end onely you were sent
into the world) I doubt not but God will send you better means for
your particular directions, than either the brevity of a Letter or
my ability can discharge. So that in this I will say no more, but
pray that you may live as I hope to die, which is in the perfect
obedience of the Catholick and onely saving Church.
"I cannot but a little touch, what I could wish you did, and I hope
will do to all sorts of people; it is a lesson I could never learn
well my self, but perhaps see more what is convenient for others,
than that I were ever able to shew the force of wholesome counsel
and good instructions in my own life.
"Above all things in the world, seek to obey and follow your
Mother's will and pleasure; who as she hath been the best wife to
me that ever man enjoyed, so can she not fail to shew her self
equal to the best Mother, if you deserve not the contrary. If it
please God to send her life (though you have nothing else), I shall
leave you enough: and on the contrary, if I could leave you ten
times more than my self ever had, yet she being taken from you, I
should think you but poor. It is not (my Sons) abundance of riches
that makes a man happy but a virtuous life; and as they are
blessings from God, and cause of happiness to a man that useth them
well, so are they cause of misery to most men even in this world.
"You may read of divers men, who whiles they lived in private
state, deserved the fame of all that knew them; but so soon as
prosperous fortune, and higher degrees, had taken possession of
them, they seemed not to be the same men, but grew into scorn of
all the world. For example _Galba_ whiles he lived in _Spain_ as a
private man, and, as it were, banished his Countrey, by a Charge
that procured in him great pains and care; he was so well liked,
that upon the death of _Nero_ the Emperor, he was Elected in his
room but was no sooner in that Place, than he was plucked out of it
again by violent death, as a man unfit for such a Charge, by reason
of his alteration which that Dignity wrought in him. You may see
also in _Otho_ who succeeded him, that all the while of his
prosperity, he lived a most dissolute life and odious to all men;
but he was no sooner touched with adversity, but he grew to a brave
and worthy resolution, making choice rather (not out of
desperation) of his own death, than that by his life the
Common-weal should be disturbed. And though I cannot but disallow
the manner of his death (by reason he knew not God truly) yet is it
plain, that adversity brought him to that worthy mind, which
contemned life in regard of his Countrey's good; and which was so
contrary to that mind that prosperity had misled in him. If then
adverse Fortune were so powerful more than prosperity on Pagans and
Misbelievers, to procure in them worthy minds; what may we expect
the force of it should be in Christians, whose first Captain (not
out of necessity, but free choice) made manifest to the world, by
his own painful foot steps that there is no other perfect and
certain way to true happiness.
"He hath not onely staid here in demonstration of his verity, but
hath sent to all those (who, the world knows, he highliest
esteemed, and best loved) nothing but variety of misery in this
life, with cruel and forced death; the which thing truest wisdom
esteems as the best tokens of Love from so powerful a Sender, and
as the best and certainest way to bring a man to perfect happiness.
"I speak not this to conclude, that no man is happy but those which
run this strict and best course. But to tell you (my Children) that
if the world seek and prevail to cut you off from enjoying my
Estate and Patrimony in this world, yet you should not think your
selves more unhappy therein: for God, it may be, doth see, that
there is some other course more fit for you; or that this would
give great hazard to your Soul's health, which he taketh away, by
removing the occasion.
"But, howsoever you find your selves in fortunes of this world,
use them to God's best pleasure, and think yourselves but Bailiffs
of such things for an uncertain time. If they be few or poor, your
fear of making a good accompt may be the lesser; and know, that God
can send more and richer, if it be requisite for his glory and your
good; if they be many or great, so much the more care you ought to
take in governing your selves, lest God, as holding you unworthy
such a charge, by taking them from you, or you from them, do also
punish you with eternal misery for abusing his benefits. You shall
the better learn to make true use and reckoning of these vanities,
if with due obedience you do hearken to your mother's wholesome
counsel; and what want you shall find in my instructions, you may
see better declared to you by looking on her life, which though I
cannot give assurance for any thing to be done in future times yet
can I not but very stedfastly believe, that the same Lord will give
perseverance in virtue, where he hath laid so strong a foundation
for his spiritual building, and where there is such an humble and
resigned will to the pleasure of her Lord and Maker.
"The next part of my charge shall be, in your mutual carriage the
one to the other; in which, all reasons to move you to perfect
accord, and entire love, do present themselves unto you, as the
obligation of Christianity, the tie of natural and nearest
consanguinity, and the equality, or very small difference of Age.
There is in none of these any thing wanting, that may be an
impediment to truest Friendship, nor anything to be added to them
(for procuring your mutual and heartiest love) but your own consent
and particular desert each to other. Since then there is all cause
in each of you for this love, do not deprive yourselves of that
earthly happiness, which God, Nature, and Time offereth unto you;
but if you think that the benefit which accord and friendship
bringeth, be not sufficient to enkindle this love (which God forbid
you should) yet let the consideration of the misery which the
contrary worketh in all degrees, stay your mind from dislike.
"As no man in any Age, but may see great happiness to have been
attained by good agreement of Friends, Kinsmen, and Brethren; so
wanteth there not too many examples of such, as by hate and
dis-cord have frustrated strong hopes sowed in peace, and brought
to nothing great Fortunes; besides the incurring God's displeasure,
which still comes accompanied with perpetual misery. If you look
into Divine Writ, you shall find, that this was the cause of
'_Abel_' and '_Cain's_' misery, which the least hard hap that came
to either of them, was to be murdered by his Brother.
"If you look into Humane Stories, you need search no further to
behold a most pitiful object than the two sons of 'Phillip,' king
of 'Macedon,' whose dislike each to other was so deeply rooted,
that at length it burst forth to open complaints, the one of the
other to good old 'Phillip' who seeing it, could not be put off
from a publick hearing, called both his sons (Demetrius and
Perseus) and in both their hearing made a most effectual speech of
concord unto them; but finding that it would not take effect, gave
them free leave to wound his heart with their unnatural
accusations, the one against the other; which staid not there, by
the unjust hastning of their Father's sudden death, but caused the
murther of one of them, with the utter overthrow of that
commonwealth, and the misery of the survivor. These things (I hope)
will not be so necessary for your use, as they are hurtless to
know, and effectual where need requires.
"Besides these examples, and fore-recited obligations, let me joyn
a Father's charge which ought not to be lightly esteemed in so just
a cause. Let me tell you my son _Kenelm_, that you ought to be both
a Father and a Brother to your unprovided for Brother, and think,
that what I am hindred from performing to him by short life, and
voluntary tie of my Land to you; so much account your self bound to
do him, both in Brotherly affection to him, and in natural duty to
me. And you, my son _John_, know I send you as Fatherly a Blessing,
as if I had also given you a great Patrimony; and that if my life
had permitted, I would have done my endeavour that way. If you find
anything in that kind to come from your Brother, take it the more
thankfully; but if that you do not, let it not lessen your love to
him, who ought not to be loved by you for his Fortune or Bounty,
but for himself. I am sorry that I am cut off by time from saying
so much as I did intend at the first; but since I may not, I will
commend in my Prayers your instruction and guidance to the Giver of
all goodness, who ever bless and keep you.--Your affectionate
Father,
"EVE DIGBY--
"From my Prison this of Jan. 1605."
[379] Papers or Letters of Sir Everard Digby. Appendix to the
Gunpowder Treason, by Thomas, Bp. of Lincoln, p. 181.