The Real Guy Fawkes

by Nick Holland

  Here [in the Tower of London] there can be little doubt that he was tortured with excruciating and most refined torments, whatever the little book has to say, which they published about this plot and the confessions of Guy, Thomas Wintour, and other prisoners. Signs of torture were evident at the time of his execution, for he was scarcely able to move.14

  Given the evidence it seems strange that some commentators still claim that torture was used sparingly, if at all, especially given that torture is still being used illegally and secretively today, as recent court cases relating to Guantanamo Bay and debates over waterboarding show.

  The first instruments of torture used upon Guy Fawkes were the manacles. These were chains fastened to the wall that were then attached to the wrists, leaving the prisoner’s arms vertically extended. The prisoner stood on a series of wicker steps which was then removed so that the whole of his weight was placed upon his arms, wrist and hands. In Guy’s case we hear that he was suspended by his thumbs for hours on end. This was the gentler torture prescribed by the King. Guy would have felt the same sensations related by Father Gerard as he looked back to the time when he himself had been manacled in the tower:

  Thus hanging by my wrists, I began to pray, while those gentlemen standing round asked me again if I was willing to confess. I replied, “I neither can nor will”. But so terrible a pain began to oppress me, that I was scarce able to speak the words. The worst pain was in my breast and belly, my arms and hands. It seemed to me that all the blood in my body rushed up my arms into my hands; and I was under the impression at the time that the blood actually burst forth from my fingers and at the back of my hands. This was, however, a mistake; the sensation was caused by the swelling of the flesh over the iron that bound it. I felt now such intense pain that it seemed to me impossible to continue enduring it. It did not, however, go so far as to make me feel any inclination or real disposition to give the information they wanted.15

  Guy endured the same pain and met it with the same resolve. After being released from the manacles, he was then held in the cell known as the Little Ease. Just four feet high, sixteen inches wide and two feet long,16 it was designed to prevent prisoners from being able to stand up, lie down, or sit in comfort, and it must have been especially painful for a man of Guy’s tall stature. To the terrible trial of the manacles, and the threat of worse to come, were added beatings and deprivation of sleep, light, and food, and yet Guy still refused to be bowed.

  On 8 November, Waad wrote to Robert Cecil to report on his prisoner’s steadfastness and obstinacy in the face of torture:

  I find this fellow who this day is in a most stubborn and perverse humour, as dogged as if he were possessed. Yesternight I had persuaded him to set down a clear narrative of all his wicked plots from the first entering to the same, to the end they pretended, with the discourses and projects that were thought upon amongst them, which he undertook and craved time this night to bethink him better; but this morning he hath changed his mind and is sullen and obstinate as there is no dealing with him.17

  Guy was indeed possessed now, his religious fervour strengthened by the ordeal he faced, he had resolved within himself to endure anything. These mortal tortures were dreadful beyond anything that could be imagined, but in his mind he saw only an immortal paradise hastening towards him. He was also resolved not to implicate his fellow plotters and send them to the same fate that was befalling him. With no contact with the outside world, Guy may have believed that Catesby and the others were succeeding with their uprising. In fact, on that very day, 8 November, the plot would come to a pathetic end.

  While Guy was being transported to the Tower on 5 November, the Midland contingent of plotters were carrying out their instructions oblivious to the failure of the London action. Everard Digby had made his way to the Red Lion Inn at Dunchurch18 in preparation for the supposed hunt. Also there was John Grant, who had arranged a supply of arms ready for the insurrection at his Norbrook home and who had travelled to Dunchurch with his brother-in-law John Wintour, brother to Thomas and Robert.

  Robert Wintour himself had travelled first to Ashby St. Ledgers and was hosted by Robert Catesby’s mother, while he awaited the arrival of her son.19 Initially reticent to join the plot, he was now convinced of its necessity and its validity, and looked forward to hearing news of the explosion at Westminster. The news, when it did reach him, was not what he had been hoping for.

  The London plotters, minus Guy, left the city at differing times, with Catesby, his servant Thomas Bates, and Jack Wright, leaving on the 4th, Thomas Percy, Kit Wright, Ambrose Rookwood, and Robert Keyes leaving on the morning of the 5th, and Thomas Wintour fleeing the capital later that day. Rookwood was renowned as a brilliant and speedy rider, and it was he who first caught up with Catesby and delivered the disastrous news of Guy’s capture.

  Using a relay of horses that had been ready prepared along the route by Rookwood, the group now covered the miles with furious haste, travelling a hundred miles in a matter of hours.20 Rookwood himself rode thirty miles in two hours using just one horse, and he reported how Thomas Percy and Jack Wright threw their cloaks into a hedge so they could ride faster.21 Upon reaching Ashby St. Ledgers, Catesby was unable to bring himself to enter the house and see his mother – or to let his mother see the wild and desperate look upon his face. Instead he sent a message to Robert Wintour to meet him in fields outside the village. There was no time for prevarication and niceties; upon Robert Wintour’s arrival, Catesby simply told him, ‘Mr Fawkes was taken and the whole plot discovered’.22

  Even now, Catesby had the strength of character and personality to compel his men to follow his lead. There was no talk of giving up, and they instead rode on to Dunchurch: if they could kidnap Lady Elizabeth from Coombe Abbey then there was still a chance, in their minds, that their Catholic revolution would succeed.

  Further bad news awaited the men when they arrived at their rendezvous. They had expected Sir Everard Digby to gather a large group of men for his hunt, after which Catesby would appraise them of his true intentions. Although maybe a little surprised at first, the men would be so enthused by the plan that they would willingly go along with it, relishing the opportunity to fight for their Catholic faith. The reality proved somewhat different.

  Digby had gathered together around eighty people,23 far less than Catesby had hoped for or expected. Nevertheless, they were men of good standing and well equipped, so all was not lost yet. Among their number were some of the leading Catholics of the Midlands, including Henry Morgan, Robert Acton, and the uncle and nephew Humphrey and Stephen Littleton. Humphrey, upon learning the true purpose of the hunt, departed from the gathering at Dunchurch, and he was not the only one. By the time the assembly had moved on from the Red Lion they were already down to around forty in number24 and their spirits had dropped accordingly.

  Thomas Wintour finally joined them that evening, having initially ridden to his brother Robert’s Huddington Hall.25 One of the first acts he was involved in was also the one that would bring the plot to its ignominious end. The men needed fresh horses, and John Grant knew that a stable of warhorses was being kept at Warwick Castle, as he had some of his own horses stabled there.26 In the still of the night, the castle’s stables were stormed by Catesby and the conspirators and the warhorses were stolen, leaving their tired horses behind in their place.27 On the face of it, this seemed to have been a success, but if Catesby felt buoyed it was not to last. The audacious theft alerted the Worcestershire authorities, and the Sheriff of Worcester Sir Richard Walsh raised a large group of armed men to track the raiders down. Using intelligence passed to him by villagers who had seen the gang he also discovered the names of some of those concerned. This concerned him greatly, for they were no ordinary brigands but men of good families.

  The Sheriff sent a report to London, where it arrived at the desk of Sir Robert Cecil. Cecil knew that this action must be linked to a wider plot involving John Johnson in the tower, and so he at last had
the names of some of those involved. On 7 November, a warrant was issued for the arrest of Robert Catesby, Ambrose Rookwood, the two Wright brothers, Thomas Wintour, Edward Grant and Robert Ashfield28 (presumably the last two referred to John Grant and Thomas Bates who may have been using the alias of Ashfield, although the latter may alternatively have been the Wintour relative John Ashfield who had met Catesby at the Irish Boy Inn).

  Robert Wintour was the only one who immediately saw the consequences of the raid, telling Catesby that his actions would make a great uproar in the country and damage any hopes they had of clemency from the King if they were arrested. Catesby looked Wintour in the eyes, and in a calm voice retorted, ‘Some of us may not look back... what, hast thou any hope, Robin? I assure thee there is none knoweth of this action but shall perish’.29

  Finally, the hopelessness of his situation had hit Catesby. The plot had utterly failed. People were leaving at every opportunity, an armed guard was tracking them down, and there was no likelihood of them being able to mount an assault upon Coombe Abbey as originally planned. When captured, their torture and execution would be certain, but they still harboured some hope of escape. For now, Catesby and his men continued to head west, probably hoping to reach Wales and then obtain a crossing to Ireland.

  By Thursday night, 7 November, the dwindling company of men had made slow progress and stopped for the night at Stephen Littleton’s home, Holbeche House in Staffordshire.30 It was a dark, quiet, fearful night, and one in which more of the men took the opportunity to escape and take their own chances. Among those who left Holbeche House on that night or the following day were Everard Digby and Thomas Bates.31

  News reached the house that the Sheriff of Worcester was now nearby, and that he had around 700 men at his command.32 This, then, was to be their final stand, and so depleted were they in numbers that they stood little chance. Realising this, Catesby asked Robert Wintour to make haste and call upon his father-in-law John Talbot at Pepperhill, ten miles away, where he might be able to persuade Talbot to supply him with troops or armaments. This, however, Wintour would not do, saying that Talbot would look after his wife and children when he was dead.33 Thomas Wintour volunteered to go in his brother’s stead, but when he and Stephen Littleton arrived at Pepperhill they were given short shrift, with Talbot simply asking them what they were doing there and ordering them to get hence immediately.

  While the two men were gone, a bizarre and disastrous scene occurred at Holbeche. During their journeys of the last two days, the men had forded rivers, and upon checking their gunpowder they found that it was too damp to be effective. To resolve this problem they poured the gunpowder into pans that were balanced upon other sacks of gunpowder and then placed in front of the fire to dry out. It could be that the men were tired beyond their endurance and simply not thinking straight, but they failed to foresee what happened next. One of the men tripped while carrying a shovel of hot coals, sending one of the coals into a pan of gunpowder. The resulting explosion destroyed much of the room, and many of the men were severely burned.34 John Grant’s face was particularly disfigured, leaving him blinded, and Catesby and Rookwood were also badly injured. Thus it was that the only explosion that took place during the gunpowder plot injured none but the perpetrators themselves.

  Thomas Wintour and Stephen Littleton heard the explosion and spurred their horses on. Not far from the house a servant informed Wintour that Catesby, Rookwood and Grant were dead, and urged him to turn his horse around and flee while he still could. It is at this point that Thomas Wintour revealed his true character and bravery. With certain knowledge that the sheriff’s men were closing in he told Littleton and the servant that he would stay and bury his friend, whatever might befall him.35 Stephen Littleton took a more pragmatic view and left at this point, while Robert Wintour had already fled in the aftermath of the explosion.

  Upon entering the damaged house, with smoke and dust stinging his eyes, Thomas Wintour discovered that Catesby was not dead after all, and that he remained defiant to the last. Wintour asked those present what they intended to do now, to which they replied that they intended to die on that spot. ‘I will take such part as you do’,36 Wintour replied.

  At Catesby’s suggestion the men now joined together in a silent prayer, until at around eleven o’clock shots from outside alerted them to the presence of the sheriff and his men. Thomas Wintour was the first to exit the house, but was immediately struck by a musket ball through his shoulder, rendering his right arm useless.37 Jack Wright was next to be shot, receiving a fatal wound, shortly followed by his younger brother Kit. Ambrose Rookwood was then shot and wounded, before Catesby called out to the injured Wintour, ‘Stand by me, Mr Tom, and we will die together’.38

  Wintour replied, ‘I have lost the use of my right arm and I fear that will cause me to be taken’.39

  Catesby, Percy and Wintour placed themselves shoulder to shoulder, after which Catesby took a gold crucifix from around his neck and crossed himself with it. He next cried out to the sheriff’s men that he had been the leader of the plot, and that he saw now that it was not God’s will that it succeed, but he would not be taken alive and would defend himself to the death.40

  A shot rang out from behind a tree, and its single bullet passed through both Thomas Percy and Robert Catesby. Despite this injury, his burns, and a pike wound he had also received, Catesby dragged himself back into the house, where in his last act he took down a picture of the Virgin Mary and kissed it. The leader of the gunpowder plot was dead.41

  With Catesby’s death, the resistance was all but ended. Thomas Wintour tried to fight on with one arm but suffered sword cuts and a pike wound to his stomach before being captured42. Sir Everard Digby and Bates, who were hiding with their horses in nearby woods, were found by the sheriff’s men who had followed hoofprints in the mud.43 Francis Tresham, who had conspicuously not left London and joined the Midlands rebellion, was arrested on 12 November.44 Robert Wintour and Stephen Littleton spent two months in hiding at properties belonging to Humphrey Littleton, and were finally arrested at Hagley Hall, Worcestershire, on 9 January 1606 after being betrayed by the cook.45

  On 8 November the gunpowder plot reached its ignoble end, and by the end of the day all thirteen conspirators were either dead, captured, or on the run eventually to be captured. As yet this was unknown to Guy Fawkes in the Tower, but that evening he was facing an ordeal of his own. Guy was being subjected to the worst torture device in use at that time: the rack. Limbs would be stretched, joints popped, sinews snapped, bones, body and spirit broken.

  Chapter 23

  A Prey for the Fowls of the Air

  What’s this flesh? A little cruded milk

  Fantastical puff-paste. Our bodies are weaker than those

  Paper prisons boys use to keep flies in; more contemptible,

  Since ours is to preserve earth-worms.

  John Webster, The Duchess of Malfi

  The events at Holbeche House on 8 November had advanced rapidly from defiance to desperation, and then from farce to tragedy. This, without doubt, is the day that drew a line through any threat posed by the gunpowder plot, but it was not the end of suffering for those involved – and for many of those on the periphery who were caught up in its aftermath.

  A letter sent from Sir William Waad to Robert Cecil on the ninth of November makes it clear that he had started using the rack upon Guy Fawkes – and it was having its desired effect:

  I have prevailed so much at the length with my prisoner, by plying him with the best persuasions I could use, as he hath faithfully promised me by narration to discover to your Lordship only all the secrets of his heart, but not to be set down in writing. Your Lordship will not mislike the exception, for when he hath confessed himself to your Lordship I will undertake he shall acknowledge it before such as you shall call, and then he will not make dainty to set his hand to it... Thus in haste, I thank God my poor labour hath advanced a service of this importance.1

  Under t
orture Guy had finally agreed to reveal the truth, as he saw it, about the plot, but he would only pass this on to Robert Cecil in person. Presumably Guy was holding onto the hope that in this way he wouldn’t implicate others, or at least that he wouldn’t provide evidence with his name upon it that could be used in a trial. Not to worry, Waad was saying, once he’s told you this in person, I’ll torture him upon the rack a little more until he has no option but to sign his name.

  By 7 November, the mask of John Johnson had slipped and they now knew him as Guido Fawkes, the man who had taken part in the Spanish treason, but he had not yet named his fellow conspirators. By 9 November, under the influence of the rack, he starts to put names to some of those in the plot, including Robert Catesby, Jack and Kit Wright, Thomas Wintour, Robert Keyes and Francis Tresham.2 This confession of the ninth is notable for one other thing: it contains one of the most famous signatures in British history.

  Guy’s confession of 9 November has a barely legible ‘Guido’ inscribed upon it. It is faint and very shaky, baring little relation to his usual signature.3 It is the signature of a man who has been tortured to within an inch of his life, and Father Gerard, himself no stranger to torture within the Tower, reported that Guy fainted after scratching his name onto the paper.4

  The rack was an instrument so terrible that the mere sight or mention of it was enough to make most men confess before being subjected to its punishments. The official account given in the King’s Book states that this applied to Guy as well:

  The next morning being carried to the Tower, he did not there remain above two or three days, being twice or thrice, in that space, re-examined, and the rack only offered and showed to him, when the mark of his Roman fortitude did visibly begin to wear and slide off his face; and then did he begin to confess part of the truth, and thereafter, to open the whole matter.5