REAPING THE WHIRLWIND.
Those who watched with Fawkes said he partook of no food, slept
not--neither spoke, and refused to utter the names of his fellow
conspirators. He sat all day in his cell without moving. At times
there came into his drawn and haggard face a strange and unearthly
light, as though he suddenly beheld a form glide from out the shadow
of the dungeon, and kneel beside him. At these moments he would
stretch forth his arms as if to embrace the airy figure of his brain,
and whisper, nodding his head slowly the while: "Thou wert all I
had--in a moment, darling;--wait until thy father can but pass this
dreary portal."
They put him to the rack, but elicited nothing. He endured the torture
as though scarce feeling it; and even in agony, was heard to mutter:
"In a moment, my little one--but a moment more."
His trial, with that of the others implicated in the plot, was over.
The sentence of death had been pronounced upon each. Three days after,
Everard Digsby, with Robert Winter and Grant, met death by hanging in
the churchyard of St. Paul's. Three remained awaiting the headsman's
axe--Thomas Winter, Keyes and Guido Fawkes.
Their execution was anticipated by the populace of London with
unwonted eagerness. The desire of the people to see justice meted to
those whom they deemed the prime movers in a conspiracy which had
shaken England to its foundation, was only rivaled by the curiosity
resident in each heart, to behold the one who, with undaunted nerve,
had stood beneath the House of Lords ready to fire the mine which
would rob the kingdom at one fell blow of both its monarch and
Parliament.
In that age public executions were signals for general holidays;
people flocked from the most distant shires, decked in best attire, to
witness the doing to death of some poor malefactor. But this was no
ordinary occasion; and, as if to emphasize the fact, a great throng
had assembled at Westminster even before the sun arose, on the day set
apart for the beheading of the remaining three conspirators.
At an early hour companies of halberdiers were forced to exercise
their authority in keeping the crowd at proper distance from the
ominous structure erected in the middle of the square. The object
about which this innumerable concourse of people gathered was a high
platform covered with black cloth, in the center of which stood the
block. The condemned men had been brought from the Tower shortly after
midnight, and were now lodged in the space beneath the scaffold, which
had been converted into a kind of closed pen.
The hour for the execution was eleven, and as the time approached the
multitude gradually swelled, being increased by thousands; as though
some pitiless monster were fattening itself upon thoughts of the blood
so soon to be shed.
Again and again the pikemen were forced to thrust back the surging
mass, and at last the soldiers did not hesitate to use their weapons
as the throng forced its way up to the very ropes surrounding the
scaffold. But now above the babel of tongues the great bell of the
Cathedral boomed out the hour of eleven. As its last note died away
the roar of voices gradually subsided, until it sunk into a dull
murmur of expectancy, but again it broke forth into a cheer as the
headsman ascended the stairs leading to the scaffold. This man was
popular with the rabble and noted for his dexterity and strength. As
the applause greeted him he recognized the homage rendered with a bow.
His was a gruesome figure, as, attired in the costume of the office,
his features concealed by a scarlet mask, he leaned easily upon the
handle of the glittering axe--and waited.
Soon four soldiers, under command of an officer, approached the door
of the inclosure and stood two on either side with halberds reversed.
A moment of breathless stillness followed; the portal opened and one
victim was led forth. Surrounded by guards he was solemnly conducted
to the foot of the steps leading to the block. Keyes, for it was he,
ascended without aid, and reached the platform. A murmur of
disappointment ran through the multitude as he came into view, for
they had supposed Fawkes would be the first to die.
The man for an instant stood quite still; he had been the first of the
little procession to reach the top, and seemed undecided which
direction to take, but only for a moment stood he thus; two of the
guards quickly approached and led him toward the center of the
scaffold. He knelt without assistance, laid his cheek upon the block,
his right shoulder resting in the notch fastened for its reception.
The soldiers retired. The headsman drew back, swiftly raised the axe
above his head, measured the distance with a practiced eye, and
struck.
The favorite of the rabble had again acquitted himself well. The head
of the victim fell on one side of the block, the quivering trunk
sinking to the floor upon the other. A cheer greeted the deed, then
silence once more fell upon the multitude. Some soldiers now appeared
carrying a box of sand. They quickly ascended the steps and scattered
its contents upon the wet boards. Having finished, one of the men
seized the head which still lay where it had fallen, fixed it upon the
point of his pike and stuck the weapon with its gruesome burden upon
the railing. The headless trunk was flung without ceremony into a cart
which was in waiting.
Again the procession formed; once more a victim knelt; the axe fell,
and another head stared down upon the throng below.
A ripple of expectancy again broke forth. Two had died; the next must
be the one for whom they waited. All strained their necks in eagerness
to catch the first glimpse as he should be led forth, and this was the
sight for which they had longed:--
A man unable to stand alone; his form, weakened by torture and
sickness, was dragged up the steps and stood confronting them. His
arms were not bound, for they hung lifeless. Those who stood near
could understand the absence of fetters; there was nothing upon which
to clasp them, save a mass of crushed bones, in many places stripped
of flesh by the cruel cords of the rack. He seemed quite oblivious of
his surroundings, turned his head neither to the right nor to the
left, but gazed past the headsman--past his captors--and far beyond
the sea of upturned faces. His lips were seen to move, but only those
who supported him could catch the words:--"In a moment, my little
one!" he whispered; "thy father will soon kiss thy sweet lips--and
then--we will love each other, and in that love forget all----"
They hurried him toward the block and were obliged to place his head
upon it; his weakness was so great that he would have fallen had they
not supported him. His guards drew back, the axe, already lifted, was
about to descend, when, the poor limp figure slipped and fell with a
thud to the floor, unable to save itself by reason of the uselessness
of the arms. Again he was lifted; once more the axe was raised, and
even in that moment they heard him whisper the name ever upon his
lips:
"Elinor!"--Crash!--and he was away to clasp her to his breast.
CONCLUSION.
Of Henry Garnet something remains to be said. The alarm which was felt
at the revelation of the treason which might, but for the arrest of
Fawkes in the cellar under Parliament House, have resulted in the
disruption of the government, was widespread, and it became necessary
for the Jesuits remaining in the kingdom to hide most secretly.
As Catesby had said, the Superior, upon leaving London some weeks
before the discovery of the plot, had taken refuge in the house of Sir
Everard Digsby at Coughton. 'Twas there he received a letter from one
of the conspirators announcing the failure of the enterprise to which
he had lent himself. For three weeks he remained in hiding, when, by
night, and in disguise, he was removed to Hendlip House, where with
another of his Order, and two servants, he escaped for a time the
diligent search instituted by Salisbury, and urged on by the King.
On the twentieth of January following the fatal Fifth of November, Sir
Henry Bromley, a magistrate, arrived with an armed force at Hendlip,
being in possession of a commission to search the mansion. The house
was full of secret apartments, and for seven days the King's officer
looked in vain for the Superior of the Jesuits. But on the eighth a
soldier, chancing upon a room occupied by one of the women of the
place, discovered in an aperture of the chimney a reed pipe, which
excited his curiosity and suspicion.
Hearing of the matter, Sir Bromley followed the clew thus given him,
and behind the wall, in a secret chamber, came upon Garnet and his
companion, Oldcorne, who, since the coming of the authorities, had
been fed through the reed with broths and warm drinks.
Taken to London, the Superior of the Jesuits was treated kindly. Many
examinations were given him, nor was torture resorted to in his case,
though Oldcorne was put to the rack. Through all Garnet divulged
nothing, and there had been some likelihood of escape, for the King
was kindly disposed, had not a trick resorted to by the government
resulted in his undoing. Allowed to hold communication with the
unfortunate Oldcorne, a watch was stationed behind the wall of the
cell, and such conversation as passed between the churchmen was taken
down. The facts thus revealed hurried Garnet to his doom.
His trial was held late in March, and although he defended himself
ably, the evidence of his having been a party to treason was
conclusive. Through all he maintained that, though cognizant of the
design to blow up the House of Parliament, he had taken no active part
with the conspirators. Holding that the secret had come to him through
sacramental confession, he affirmed that, by his faith, he was bound
to disclose nothing concerning it. The trial ended with the sentence
that he follow in the footsteps of Fawkes, Winter and those others who
had met death upon the scaffold. Even then, the King, loth to see
executed so famous a prelate, stayed for a time the hand of the
axeman. 'Twas not till the third day of May, three months after the
death of his former companions, that Garnet died--the last of those
unfortunate men who sought to gain their ends by violence.
THE END.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES
1. Few quotes are opened with marks but are not closed and vice-versa.
Obvious errors have been silently closed, while those requiring
interpretation have been left as such.
2. The following misprints have been corrected:
"Fawke's" corrected to "Fawkes'" (page 73)
"reovered" corrected to "recovered" (page 106)
"exlaims" corrected to "exclaims" (page 108)
"'tis" capitalized to "'Tis" (page 154)
"readinesss" corrected to "readiness" (page 215)
3. Other than the corrections listed above, printer's inconsistencies
in spelling, punctuation, and hyphenation have been retained.