THE NOTE OF WARNING.
During the last week of October, sixteen hundred and five, near the
day for the convening of Parliament, Lord Monteagle suddenly appeared
in his house at Hoxton, from which he had been absent a month. His
manner was perturbed and preoccupied in the extreme. Usually of a
genial disposition, he surprised the servants who attended him, by an
impatient order that supper be served at once, as he and the gentlemen
accompanying him had already fasted too long.
Soon after seven in the evening he dispatched a footman upon an errand
into the neighboring street. This man shortly returned in haste,
presenting to his lordship a sealed letter, addressed, in a cramped
hand, to "The Right Honorable, the Lord Monteagle."
He received the missive, handling it in a fastidious manner, and
inquired with some show of spirit how it had come through a servant,
instead of being delivered in the usual way.
"'Twas given me," replied the footman, "by a reasonably tall person
who stood upon a corner of the street, and directed with much
semblance of authority that I give it into thy lordship's hand and to
no other."
"'Tis a most unwonted thing," said Monteagle, breaking the seal,
"probably some petition for alms which----"
Then, on glancing over the sheet, he started, and turned to a
gentleman beside him.
"Good Thomas Ward," said he, "'tis written in a most illegible and
wretched hand which I can scarce decipher; neither bears it any date
or superscription. I pray thee take and read aloud, that all may hear
and pass opinion upon so strange a matter."
Ward accepted the paper, and smoothed it out upon his hand. "It seems
the writing of a laborer," said he, "one who doth wield a pick and
spade with more ease than a quill. A most unmannerly jumble of
ill-conditioned words, as thou shalt judge, my lord, upon hearing." So
saying he read aloud as follows, while the others sat and listened:
"My lord out of the love I beare to some of youer friends I
have a cayer of youer preservation therefor I would advyse
yowe as yowe tender youer lyfe to devyse some excuse to shift
of youer attendance at this parleament for God and man bathe
concurred to punishe the wickedness of this tyme and thinke
not slyghtly of this advertisment but retyre youer selfe into
youer country where yowe may expect the event in safty for
though there be no appearence of any stir yet I say they
shall receyve a terrible blowe this parleament, and yet they
shall not see who hurts them. Thys cowncel is not to be
condemed because it may do yowe good and can do yowe no harm,
for the danger is passed as soon as yowe have burnt the
letter, and I hope God will gyve yowe the grace to make good
use of it to whose holy protection I commend yowe."
"A most amazing document," said Ward, as he returned it to Monteagle;
"and what think you of it, my lord? canst detect the meaning of so
strange a warning?"
His lordship contracted his brow and studied the writing with much
attention. "'Tis as you perceive," said he, "a warning unto me that
some unexplained danger lies in the way."
"A boorish jest," cried one at the table; "think not upon it, my
lord."
"Which is proved beyond doubt by the action of the one who brought
it," said another; "he dared not deliver it at the door."
Monteagle folded the letter carefully and thrust it inside his
doublet. There arose in his mind suspicion that in the tenor of the
message lay the verification of the warning to Lord Salisbury, and
that, mayhap, beneath the apparent serenity of the kingdom, smoldered
a volcano which needed but the touch of a directing master hand to
send belching forth its contents of treason and blood. Into his mind
came also the words of the Prime Minister spoken one afternoon several
months before, that should aught be unfolded of plots or treasonable
designs, they should be disclosed to him, and thus the danger to the
State be averted.
He had therefore a feeling of relief when the meal was ended, and his
companions left him to carry out his intention. The raw October night
was filled with storm and blackness, but the spirit of Lord Monteagle
burned within him to lay before Salisbury and, perchance, the King,
the warning which had come to him.
Scarce a quarter of an hour elapsed after rising from the table ere,
covered by a great cloak, booted, and with a stout rapier girt at his
side, he left Hoxton House unnoticed, and turned his steps toward the
dwelling of the Prime Minister. Although the hour was late Cecil had
not retired when he received the announcement that Monteagle sought an
interview. Surprised at so unusual an occurrence the Minister
hastened to greet his visitor, ordering, as was his custom, that a
light repast be set before him.
"And what now, good Monteagle?" asked he, looking at his companion
with a smile, "hast thy digestion played thee false again?"
"Of that thou shalt judge, my lord," replied Monteagle, taking the
letter from his doublet and handing it to the Minister.
Salisbury mastered its contents with an aptness peculiar to himself.
"Faith!" said he, letting his eyes rest searchingly upon the face of
his companion, "and how camest thou by this thing, my good lord?"
Monteagle related briefly the scene at the supper table.
"And didst thou have the letter read aloud, in the presence of thy
gentlemen?" asked the Minister.
"Its contents were unknown to me," replied the other; "the writing was
obscure and I did request Thomas Ward to decipher it."
Salisbury pondered for a moment. The warning of danger threatening
those who would sit at the opening of the coming Parliament perplexed
him, and drawing nearer to a light he studied the letter carefully.
"Thou hast done well," said he, suddenly turning to Monteagle, "in
placing this paper in my hands without delay, yet----" he laid a
finger on the letter, "perchance 'tis nothing, or--there may be much
behind these ill-written lines. Thou perceivest that herein is
written: 'for the danger is passed as soon as you have burned the
letter!' What then can be the use of such a warning? as, hadst thou
put the sheet to fire, there had been no danger."
"'Tis beyond my comprehension," replied Monteagle, "'tis a riddle."
Salisbury looked up quickly. Despite his assumed indifference at the
time, the former conversation with the ex-Catholic nobleman had
aroused in his mind suspicions that some danger might lurk beneath the
calm which had lulled the King into a feeling of security. He
understood well that, although there had been no open manifestations
of treason on the part of zealous adherents to the Catholic faith in
England, there were among them men who but awaited opportunity to show
in no gentle way, their displeasure at the policy of James. He
remembered also, that Monteagle had been a Catholic, though now a firm
partisan of the government and in high favor at Whitehall. Might it
not be possible that some knowledge coming to him of a plot against
the State, and, not wishing to openly accuse his former compatriots,
he had taken a more subtle way, seeking by veiled warnings and hints,
to arouse suspicion in the other's mind, and so lead to some action on
the part of the government? Yet, it was not in accordance with his
policy to reveal his real thoughts; therefore, again thanking the
other for his zeal with reference to the letter, he dismissed him with
a promise that the matter should not be forgotten.
After Monteagle had left he again studied the missive, endeavoring to
read between the lines, and bringing all his wit to bear upon the
meaning. Then, as it was his custom to work quietly and without haste,
for six days he held the document before making it known to the King.
James was at first alarmed, but upon perceiving that the Minister
retained his calmness, he put aside his fears and questioned
Salisbury closely concerning the meaning of the strange warning. In
the latter's mind was no thought of arousing James to hasty action,
for, if in truth a plot was brewing, too sudden a movement on the part
of the government would warn those engaged in it, and only postpone
the culmination to a more favorable opportunity. Following this line
of thought the Prime Minister calmed the sovereign's fears, and the
King, trusting to the prudence and shrewdness of his chief counselor,
dismissed the matter with a jest.
Report, indeed, reached the ears of Winter, Catesby and others of the
conspirators, that Lord Monteagle had been warned to absent himself
from Parliament on the opening day. They were alarmed for a time, and
sought solution of the problem, wishing to know who had played the
traitor. Suspicion pointed to one Francis Tresham, whose sister had
married Monteagle, and who, naturally, would seek to save his
brother-in-law. But as Tresham denied all knowledge of the matter, the
government made no move, and even Salisbury, usually alert, remained
inactive. After a week of uncertainty, the conspirators again gathered
their forces and the plot against the King and Parliament continued to
ripen. Fawkes, beyond all others, became more reckless.
"Should all else fail," said he, "I remain firm; and at the end will
kill this King even, if needful, in the royal bedchamber."