CHAPTER XV.

On Monday, the 27th of January 1606, Sir Everard Digby, Robert and

Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, John Grant, Ambrose Rookwood, Robert Keyes,

and Thomas Bates, were taken from their cells in the Tower, led to a

barge, and conveyed up the river to Westminster to be put on their trial

in the celebrated hall, which stands on the site of the banquetting room

of William Rufus. They were to stand before their accusers on soil

already famous, and destined to become yet more famous for important

trials. Here, three hundred years earlier, Sir William Wallace had been

condemned to death. Here, only about eighty years before their own time

came, both Anne Boleyn and Sir Thomas More had been tried and sentenced.

In this splendid building, Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, and King

Charles the First were destined to be condemned to the block. In the

following century, sentence of death was here to be passed upon the

rebel lords of 1745; here too, still later, Warren Hastings and Lord

Melville were to be impeached.

Sir Everard Digby and his fellow-prisoners reached Westminster about

half-an-hour before the time fixed for the trial, and they were taken to

the Star Chamber to await the arrival of their judges. The following is

a contemporary account of their appearance and behaviour while there.

[380] "It was strange to note their carriage, even in their very

countenances: some hanging down the head, as if their hearts were full

of doggedness, and others forcing a stern look, as if they would fear"

["that is _frighten_. _Footnote._"] "death with a frown, never seeming

to pray, except it were by the dozen upon their beads, and taking

tobacco, as if hanging were no trouble to them; saying nothing but in

commendation of their conceited religion, craving mercy of neither God

nor the king for their offences, and making their consciences, as it

were, as wide as the world; and to the very gates of hell, to be the

cause of their hellish courses, to make a work meritorious."

[380] Somers' Tracts, Vol. xi. p. 113.

This writer clearly did not go to the trial prepared to be pleased with

the prisoners. If they looked down, they were "dogged" and ought to have

been looking up; if they looked up, they were "forcing a stern look,"

and ought to have been looking down: if they were not praying, they

should have been praying, and if they were praying, yea, even praying

"by the dozen," they should have not have been praying; if they smoked,

it was because they did not mind being hanged; if they talked of nothing

but religion, it was because they did not desire God's mercy, and one

thing was certain--that their prayers and their religion and all things

about them, to their very consciences, were "hellish."

Sir John Harrington was another unadmiring spectator. [381] "I have seen

some of the chief" [conspirators], he says, "and think they bear an evil

mark in their foreheads, for more terrible countenances never were

looked upon."

[381] _Nugae Antiquae_, Vol. i. p. 373.

Another writer takes a different view, at any rate in the case of Sir

Everard Digby. As that prisoner was being brought up for trial, says

Father Gerard,[382] "(not in the best case to make show of himself as

you may imagine), yet some of the chiefest in the Court seeing him out

of a window brought in that manner, lamented him much, and said he was

the goodliest man in the whole Court."

[382] _Narrative of the G. P._, p. 88.

On entering Westminster Hall, the prisoners were made to ascend a

scaffold placed in front of the judges. The Queen and the Prince were

seated in a concealed chamber from which they could see, but could not

be seen; and it was reported that the King also was somewhere

present.[383] The crowd was enormous. Although a special part of the

hall had been assigned to members of parliament who might wish to

attend the trial, they were so[384] "pestered with others not of the

House," that one member complained, and a committee was afterwards

appointed to enquire into the matter.

[383] Letter from Sir E. Hoby to Sir T. Edmondes.

[384] Journals of the House of Commons, Jan. 28 1605-6. _Criminal

Trials._ Jardine, p. 115, footnote.

Sir Everard Digby was arraigned under a separate indictment from that of

the other prisoners, and he was tried by himself after them; but he

stood by them throughout the trial. The first indictment was very long.

After a much spun-out preamble, it stated that the prisoners

"traiterously[385] among themselves did conclude and agree, with

Gunpowder, as it were with one blast, suddenly, traiterously, and

barbarously to blow up and tear in pieces our said Sovereign Lord the

King, the Excellent, Virtuous, and gracious Queen Anne his dearest Wife,

the most Noble Prince Henry their Eldest Son, the future Hope and Joy of

England, and the Lords Spiritual and Temporal; the Reverend Judges of

the Realm, the Knights, Citizens, and Burgesses of Parliament, and

divers other faithful Subjects and Servants of the King in the said

Parliament," &c, "and all of them, without any respect of Majesty,

Dignity, Degree, Sex, Age, or Place, most barbarously, and more than

beastly, traiterously and suddenly, to destroy and swallow up."

[385] _Gunpowder Treason_, Bp. Barlow, p. (3)

The prisoners under this indictment pleaded "_Not Guilty_; and put

themselves upon God and the Country."

Sir Edward Philips, Sergeant at Law, then got upon his legs. The matter

before the Court, he said, was one of Treason;[386] "but of such

horrour, and monstrous nature, that before now,

The Tongue of Man never delivered,

The Ear of Man never heard,

The Heart of Man never conceited,

Nor the Malice of Hellish or Earthly Devil never practised."

[386] _Gunpowder Treason_, Bp. Barlow, p. (9).

And, if it were "abominable to murder the least," and if "to touch God's

annointed," were to oppose God himself, "Then how much more than too

monstrous" was it "to murder and subvert

Such a King,

Such a Queen,

Such a Prince,

Such a Progeny,

Such a State,

Such a Government,

So compleat and absolute;

That God approves:

The World admires:

All true English Hearts honour and reverence:

The Pope and his Disciples onely envies and maligns."

The Sergeant, after dwelling briefly on the chief points of the

indictment, and describing the objects of the conspiracy and the plan of

the conspirators, sat down to make way for the principal counsel for the

prosecution, His Majesty's Attorney-General, Sir Edward Coke.

Coke, the enemy of Bacon, was now about fifty-five, and he had filled

the post of Attorney-General for nine years. Sir Everard Digby and his

fellow-prisoners knew that they had little mercy to expect at his hands.

The asperity which he had shown in prosecuting Essex, five years

earlier, and the personal animosity which he had exhibited, still later,

in his sarcastic speech at the trial of Raleigh, when he had wound up

with the phrase, "Thou hast an English face but a Spanish heart," were

notorious, and he was certain to make such a trial as that of the

conspirators in the Gunpowder Plot the occasion of a great forensic

display. It so happened that his speeches at this trial and that of

Father Garnet, which presently followed it, brought his career as an

advocate to a close; for within a year he was appointed Chief-Justice of

Common Pleas.

Undoubtedly, his speeches at the trial of Sir Everard Digby and his

accomplices added to his fame; but Jardine[387] called one of them "a

long and laboured harangue," and other historians thought him guilty

of[388] "unnecessary cruelty in the torture and gratuitous" insolence

which he exhibited towards the accused. The glaring eyes, which we see

represented in his portrait, would be an unpleasant prospect for Sir

Everard as he listened to his cruel words; but whatever tenderness a

biographer may feel for his subject, and whatever dislike a Catholic may

entertain to the Protestant bigotry of Sir Edward Coke, it ought not to

be forgotten that, according to his lights, he was an honest, if a hard

and an unmerciful man, that some ten years later he himself fell into

disgrace and suffered imprisonment in the Tower, rather than yield on a

point of principle, and that, vindictive as he could be in prosecuting a

prisoner, one of his enemies--Lord Chancellor Egerton--said that his

greatest fault was his "excessive popularity."

[387] P. 141.

[388] See _Ency. Brit._, Eighth Ed., Vol. vii. p. 95.

Although he began his speech by saying that the Gunpowder Plot had been

the greatest treason ever conceived against the greatest king that ever

lived, he had presently a complimentary word or two to say as to the

origins and previous lives of some of the conspirators. With an air of

great truthfulness and fairness he said:--[389] "It is by some given out

that they are such men as admit just exception, either desperate in

estate, or base, or not settled in their wits; such as are _sine

religione, sine sede, sine fide, sine re, et sine spe_--without

religion, without habitation, without credit, without means, without

hope. But (that no man, though never so wicked, may be wronged) true it

is, they were gentlemen of good houses, of excellent parts, howsoever

most perniciously seduced, abused, corrupted, and jesuited, of very

competent fortunes and estates."

[389] _Criminal Trials_, Jardine, p. 127 _seq._

After having said these comparatively gentle words concerning the laity,

he launched forth in declamation against "those of the spirituality,"

not one of whom was actually on his trial. "It is falsely said," he

cried, "that there is never a religious man in this action; for I never

yet knew a treason without a Romish priest; but in this there are very

many Jesuits, who are known to have dealt and passed through the whole

action." He then named four of these, beginning with Father Garnet,

"besides their cursory men," the first of which was Father Gerard. "The

studies and practises of this sect principally consisted in two D's, to

wit, in deposing of kings and disposing of kingdoms." Having thundered

away at Jesuits and priests to his heart's content, he exclaimed that

"the Romish Catholicks" had put themselves under "Gunpowder Law, fit for

Justices of Hell."

"Note," said he, with great vehemence, "that gunpowder was the invention

of a Friar, one of that Romish Rabble."[390] "All friars, religions, and

priests were bad"; but "the principal offenders are the seducing

Jesuits, men that use the reverence of Religion, yea, even the most

Sacred and Blessed name of JESUS as a mantle to cover their impiety,

blasphemy, treason, and rebellion, and all manner of wickedness."

[390] So it is commonly said; but Mr Tomlinson, in his article on

Gunpowder in the _Ency. Brit._, Vol. xi. p. 150, ed. 1856, says that

it was known, in some form at least, in the year 355 B.C.

No speech in those days was considered perfect without a few words of

astrology, so he called the attention of the Court to the remarkable

fact "that it was in the entering of the Sun into the Tropick of

_Capricorn_, when they" [the conspirators] "began their mine; noting

that by mineing they should descend, and by hanging ascend."

In the latter part of his pompous harangue, there was a passage which

must have been very unpleasant hearing to the prisoners, however

interesting to the rest of the audience.[391]

[391] _Gunpowder Treason_, by Thomas, Bp. of Lincoln, pp. (48)-(50).

"The conclusion shall be from the admirable clemency and moderation of

the King, in that howsoever these traitors have exceeded all others

their predecessors in mischief, and _Crescente, malitia crescere debuit,

etc., Poena_; yet neither will the King exceed the usual punishment of

Law, nor invent any new torture or torment for them, but is graciously

pleased to afford them an ordinary course of trial, as an ordinary

punishment, much inferior to their offence." Nor was this reference to a

"new torture" a mere figure of rhetoric on the part of the

Attorney-General; for a few days earlier,[392] in both houses of

Parliament, a proposal had been made to petition the King "to stay

judgment until Parliament should have time to consider some

extraordinary mode of punishment, which might surpass in horror even the

scenes which usually occurred at the execution of traitors." To their

credit be it spoken, this suggestion was negatived by both Lords and

Commons.

[392] Gardiner's Hist. of Eng., Vol. i. p. 286; and see 3 Jac. I.

cap. 1.

"And surely," continued Coke, "worthy of observation is the punishment

by law provided for High Treason, which we call _Crimen laesae

Majestatis_. For first after a traitor hath had his fair trial, and is

convicted and attainted, he shall have his judgment to be drawn to the

place of execution from his prison, as being not worthy any more to

tread upon the face of the earth, whereof he was made. Also for that he

hath been retrograde to Nature, therefore is he drawn backwards at a

horse-tail. And whereas God hath made the head of man the highest and

most supreme part, as being his chief grace and ornament: _Pronaque cum

spectent Animalia caetera terram, Os homini sublime dedit_; he must be

drawn with his head declining downward, and lying so near the ground as

may be, being thought unfit to take benefit of the common air. For which

cause also he shall be strangled, being hanged up by the neck between

heaven and earth, as deemed unworthy of both, or either; as likewise,

that the eyes of men may behold, and their hearts contemn him. Then is

he to be cut down alive, and to have ---- cut off, and burnt before his

face, as being unworthily begotten, and unfit to leave any generation

after him; his bowels and inlayed parts taken out and burnt, who

inwardly conceived and harboured in his heart such horrible Treason.

After, to have his head cut off, which had imagined the mischief. And

lastly, his body to be quartered, and the quarters set up in some high

and eminent place, to the view and detestation of men, and to become a

prey for the Fouls of the Air."

Considering that the prisoners had not yet been found guilty, and that

even had they been, it was no business of his to pass sentence on them,

this pointless and objectless description of their probable fate was as

gratuitous as it was cruel on the part of the Attorney-General.

With the prisoners, other than Sir Everard Digby, I have nothing to do,

and it will suffice to say, that, at the conclusion of the

Attorney-General's speech, the depositions of their examinations in the

Tower--"the voluntary confessions of all the said several traitors in

writings subscribed with their own proper hands"--were then read aloud.

These are very interesting, and have already been partially used in

framing the story in the preceding pages. They are humble and penitent

in tone, and as a specimen of this apparent penitence I will quote the

opening of one of the longest, namely that by Thomas Winter.[393]

[393] S. P. Dom. James I., G. P. Book, Part II. n. 114.

"My most honorable Lordes.--Not out of hope to obtayne pardon, for

speakinge of my temporall past, I may say the fault is greater than can

be forgiven, nor affectinge hereby the title of a good subject, for I

must redeeme my countrey from as great a danger as I have hazarded the

bringinge her into, before I can purchase any such opinion; only at your

Ho. Commans I will breifely sett downe my owne accusation, and how farr

I have proceeded in this busyness w{ch} I shall the faythfuller doe since

I see such courses are not pleasinge to Allmighty God, and that all or

the most material parts have been allready confessed."

At the conclusion of the public reading of these confessions, the Lord

Chief Justice made some remarks to the jury, and then directed them to

consider of their verdict; upon "which they retired into a separate

place."[394]

[394] _Criminal Trials_, Jardine, Vol. ii. pp. 138 and 169.

Sir Everard Digby was then arraigned by himself upon a separate

indictment issued by Sir Christopher Yelverton and other special

commissioners of Oyer & Terminer, on the 16th of January, at

Wellingborough, in Northamptonshire, and delivered to the same

commission in Middlesex that had tried the other prisoners. It charged

him with High Treason in conspiring the death of the king, with

conferring with Catesby in Northamptonshire concerning the Gunpowder

Plot, assenting to the design, and taking the oath of secrecy.

As soon as the indictment was read, Sir Everard began to make a speech;

but was interrupted by being told that he must first plead, either

guilty or not guilty, and that then he would be allowed to say what he

liked.

He at once confessed that he was guilty of the treason; and then he

spoke of the motives which had led him to it.[395] The first of these

was neither ambition, nor discontent, nor ill-will towards any member of

Parliament, but his intense friendship and affection for Robert Catesby,

whose influence over him was so great that he could not help risking his

own property and his life at his bidding. The second motive was the

cause of religion, on behalf of which he was glad to endanger "his

estate, his life, his name, his memory, his posterity, and all worldly

and earthly felicity whatsoever." His third motive was prompted by the

broken promises to Catholics, and had as its object the prevention of

the harder laws which they feared and professed to have solid reasons

for fearing, from the new Parliament; as "that Recusant's Wives, and

women, should be liable to the Mulct as well as their husbands and men."

And further, that "it was supposed, that it should be made a _Praemunire_

onely to be a Catholick."

[395] _Gunpowder Treason_, by Thomas, Bp. of Lincoln, p. (55) _seq._

Having stated the motives of his crime, he proceeded to make his

petitions--[396] "That sithens his offence was confined and contained

within himself, that the punishment also of the same might extend only

to himself, and not be transferred either to his Wife, Children,

Sisters, or others: and therefore for his Wife he humbly craved, that

she might enjoy her Joynture, his Son the benefit of an Entail made long

before any thought of this action; his Sisters, their just and due

portions which were in his hands; his Creditors, their rightful Debts;

which that he might more justly set down under his hand, he requested,

that before his death, his Man (who was better acquainted both with the

men and the particulars than himself) might be licensed to come unto

him. Then prayed he pardon of the King and Ll. for his guilt, and

lastly, he entreated to be beheaded, desiring all men to forgive him,

and that his death might satisfie them for his trespass."

[396] _Gunpowder Treason_, by Thomas, Bp. of Lincoln, p. (56).

The daylight was waning quickly in the great hall of Westminster, on

that short January day, when Sir Edward Coke, the Attorney-General, rose

from his seat, at the conclusion of Sir Everard Digby's dignified but

distressed speech. He had already shown refinement of cruelty in

treating the prisoners to a detailed description of the horrors of the

death that was awaiting them, and he was now again ready to inflict as

much pain as possible.

As to Sir Everard's friendship with Catesby, he said, it was "mere

folly, and wicked Conspiracy"; his religion was "Error and Heresie"; his

promises--it does not appear that he had made any--were "idle and vain

presumptions"; "as also his fears, false alarms, Concerning Wives that

were Recusants." "If a man married one," great reason there is, "that he

or they should pay for it"; but if a wife "were no Recusant at the time

of Marriage"--as had been the case with Lady Digby, although he did not

mention her by name--"and yet afterwards he suffer her to be corrupted

and seduced, by admitting Priests and Romanists into his house"--Roger

Lee and Father Gerard, for instance, Sir Everard might understand him to

imply--"good reason that he, be he Papist or Protestant, should pay for

his negligence and misgovernment."

Next he dealt with Sir Everard's petitions on behalf of his wife,

children, sisters, &c., and on this point he became eloquent.[397] "Oh

how he doth now put on the bowels of Nature and Compassion in the perils

of his private and domesticated estate! But before, when the publick

state of his Countrey, when the King, the Queen, the tender Princes, the

Nobles, the whole Kingdom, were designed to a perpetual destruction,

Where was then this piety, this Religious affection?" "All Nature, all

Humanity, all respect of Laws both Divine and Humane, were quite

abandoned; then there was no conscience made to extirpate the whole

Nation, and all for a pretended zeal to the Catholick Religion, and the

justification of so detestable and damnable a Fact."

[397] _Gunpowder Treason_, by Thomas, Bp. of Lincoln, p. (57).

Here Sir Everard Digby interrupted the great lawyer with the remark that

he had not justified the fact, but had confessed that he deserved the

vilest death; and that all he had done was to seek mercy, "and some

moderation of justice."

As to moderation of justice, replied the Attorney-General, how could a

man expect or ask for it who had acted in direct opposition to all mercy

and all justice? And had he not already had most ample and most

undeserved moderation shown to him? Verily he ought "to admire the great

moderation and mercy of the King, in that, for so exorbitant a crime, no

new torture answerable thereunto was devised to be inflicted upon him."

Was it not sufficient consolation to him to reflect upon his good

fortune in this respect? Sir Everard had talked about his wife and

children. Well! did he forget how he had said "that for the Catholick

Cause he was content to neglect the ruine of himself, his Wife, his

Estate, and all"? Oh! he should be made content enough on this point.

Here was an appropriate text for him:--"Let his Wife be a widow, and his

Children vagabonds, let his posterity be destroyed, and in the next

generation let his name be quite put out." Then Sir Edward Coke spoke

directly to Sir Everard, and said:--"For the paying of your Creditors,

it is equal and just, but yet fit the King be first satisfied and paid,

to whom you owe so much, as that all you have is too little: yet these

things must be left to the pleasure of his Majesty, and the course of

Justice and Law." Fortunately for Sir Everard, "in respect for the time

(for it grew now dark)" the Attorney General spoke "very briefly."

One of the nine Commissioners, appointed to try the prisoners, now

addressed Sir Everard. His words came with more force, perhaps it might

be said with more cruel force, because he was himself a Catholic. This

was Henry Howard, Earl of Northampton, younger brother of the Duke of

Norfolk, and second son of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, who had been

beheaded on Tower Hill, nearly sixty years earlier, in the reign of

Henry VIII. This Commissioner had espoused the cause of Mary, Queen of

Scots,[398] and he was rather ostentatiously put forward at this trial,

and afterwards at that of Father Garnet, to prove his loyalty and to

counteract the jealousy and suspicion which had been caused by the

appointment of a man of his religion[399] to the Wardenship of the

Cinque Ports. Banks wrote of him,[400] "other authors represent him as

the most contemptible and despicable of man-kind; a wretch, that it

causes astonishment to reflect, that he was the son of the generous, the

noble, and accomplished Earl of Surrey.[401] He was a learned man, but

a pedant, dark and mysterious, and consequently far from possessing

masterly abilities. He was the grossest of flatterers, &c."

[398] Froude's Hist. of Eng., Vol. xi. p. 74.

[399] _Criminal Trials_, Jardine, Vol. xi. p. 172, footnote.

[400] I quote from Burke's _Dormant and Extinct Peerages_, p. 285.

[401] Henry, Earl of Surrey, was the first English writer of blank

verse and sonnets. _Beeton's Encyclopaedia_.

Northampton began his speech as follows:--[402] "You must not hold it

strange, Sir Everard Digby, though at this time being pressed in duty,

Conscience and Truth, I do not suffer you to wander in the Laberinth of

your own idle conceits without opposition, to seduce others, as your

self have been seduced, by false Principles; or to convey your self by

charms of imputation, by clouds of errour, and by shifts of lately

devised 'Equivocation'; out of that streight wherein your late secure

and happy fortune hath been unluckily entangled; but yet justly

surprised, by the rage and revenge of your own rash humors. If in this

crime (more horrible than any man is able to express) I could lament the

estate of any person upon earth, I could pity you, but thank your self

and your bad counsellours, for leading you into a Crime of such a kind;

as no less benummeth in all faithfull, true and honest men, the

tenderness of affection, than it did in you, the sense of all humanity.

That you were once well thought of, and esteemed by the late Queen, I

can witness, having heard her speak of you with that grace which might

have encouraged a true gentleman to have run a better course: Nay, I

will add further, that there was a time, wherein you were as well

affected to the king our master's expectation, though perhaps upon false

rumours and reports, that he would have yielded satisfaction to your

unprobable and vast desires: but the seed that wanted moisture (as our

Saviour Himself reporteth) took no deep root: that zeal which hath no

other end or object than the pleasing of itself, is quickly spent: and

Trajan, that worthy and wise Emperour, had reason to hold himself

discharged of all debts to those, that had offended more by

prevarication, than they could deserve by industry."

[402] _Gunpowder Treason_, p. 59.

The main contention of his long and wordy speech was to refute the

charge of broken promises to his co-religionists brought by Sir Everard

Digby in his description of his motives. It was well-known that the

Catholics considered the king guilty of perfidy on this point, and that

they based their accusation chiefly upon the reports of Father Watson's

celebrated interview with James in Scotland, a matter with which I dealt

in an early chapter. Northampton denied that James had ever encouraged

the Catholics to expect any favour.

He made a strong point of Percy's having asserted that the king had

promised toleration to the Catholics; asking why, if this were really

the case, Percy, at the beginning of the king's reign, thought it worth

while to employ Guy Fawkes and others to plot against the king in Spain?

He wound up by praying for Sir Everard's repentance in this world and

his forgiveness in the next.

Then Lord Salisbury spoke. He began by acknowledging his own connection,

by marriage, with Sir Everard, and then he proceeded, with even greater

zeal than Northampton, to imply that the prisoner's plea of broken

promises to Catholics would be understood to mean bad faith on the part

of the king; and it was thought by some that Sir Everard would have had

his sentence commuted for beheading, had it not been for what Salisbury

now said.[403] After defending the king from all imputation of

faithlessness towards his Catholic subjects, Salisbury referred to Sir

Everard's personal guilt, and dwelt upon Guy Fawkes's evidence that, at

Gothurst, he had expressed a fear lest the gunpowder stored beneath the

houses of Parliament, might, during the wet weather in October, have

"grown dank."

[403] _Narrative of the G. P._, Gerard, p. 216.

When Salisbury had finished, Sergeant Philips got up and "prayed the

judgment of the court upon the verdict of the Jury against the seven

first prisoners, and against Sir Everard Digby upon his own confession."

Each prisoner was then formally asked what he had to say why judgment of

death should not be pronounced against him. Finally Lord Chief Justice

Popham described and defended the laws made by Queen Elizabeth against

priests, recusants, and receivers and harbourers of priests,[404] which

seems to have been a little wide of the subject of the crime of the

prisoners, and then he solemnly pronounced the usual sentence for high

treason upon all the eight men who stood convicted before him.

[404] _Criminal Trials_, Jardine, Vol. ii. p. 181.

Then Sir Everard bowed towards the commissioners who had tried him and

said:--"If I may but hear any of your Lordships say you forgive me, I

shall go more cheerfully to the gallows."

They all immediately replied:--"God forgive you, and we do."

And thus, late in the evening, this memorable trial ended, and the

prisoners were conveyed by torches to their barge; then they were rowed

down the river to the Tower, and led through the dark "Traitor's Gate"

to their cells.

The Life of a Conspirator Being a Biography of Sir Everard Digby by One of His Descendants · 第 15 / 17 章