“I am ready to attend you,” replied Fawkes. “Will Sir William Radcliffe be there?”
“No,” replied Garnet; “he has not yet joined us. None will be present at this meeting but the sworn conspirators.”
With this, the trio took their way towards the garden, and proceeding along a walk edged with clipped yew-trees, came to the summer-house, — a small circular building overrun with ivy and creepers, and ornamented in front by two stone statues on pedestals. Here they found Sir Everard Digby, Ambrose Rookwood, Francis Tresham, Thomas and Robert Winter, John and Christopher Wright, awaiting their arrival.
The door being closed and bolted, Garnet, placing himself in the midst of the assemblage, said, “Before we proceed further, I will again administer the oath to all present.” Drawing from his vest a primer, and addressing Sir Everard Digby, he desired him to kneel, and continued thus in a solemn tone, “You shall swear by the Blessed Trinity, and by the sacrament you propose to receive, never to disclose directly nor indirectly, by word or circumstance, the matter that shall be proposed to you to keep secret, nor desist from the execution thereof, until the rest shall give you leave.”
“I swear,” replied Digby, kissing the primer.
The oath was then taken in like manner by the others. This done, Catesby was about to address the meeting, when Tresham, glancing uneasily at the door, remarked, “Are you assured we have no eavesdroppers?”
“I will keep watch without,” rejoined Fawkes, “if you have any fears.”
“It were better,” replied Robert Winter. “We cannot be too cautious. But if you go forth, you will not be able to take part in the discussion.”
“My part is to act, not talk,” rejoined Fawkes, marching towards the door. And shutting it after him, he took up his position outside.
Upon this Catesby commenced a long and inflammatory harangue, in which he expatiated with great eloquence and fervour on the wrongs of the Catholic party, and the deplorable condition of their church. “It were easy to slay the tyrant by whom we are oppressed,” he said, in conclusion; “but his destruction would be small gain to us. We must strike deeper, to hew down the baneful stock of heresy. All our adversaries must perish with him, and in such a manner as shall best attest the vengeance of Heaven. Placed beneath the Parliament-house, a mine of powder shall hurl its heretical occupants into the air, — nor shall any one survive the terrible explosion. Are we all agreed to this plan?”
All the conspirators expressed their assent, except Sir Everard Digby.
“Before I give my concurrence to the measure,” observed the latter, “I would fain be resolved by Father Garnet whether it is lawful to destroy some few of our own faith with so many heretics.”
“Unquestionably, my son,” replied Garnet. “As in besieging a city we have a right to kill all within it, whether friends or enemies, so in this case we are justified in destroying the innocent with the guilty, because their destruction will be advantageous to the Catholic cause.”
“I am satisfied,” replied Digby.
“As to the tyrant and apostate James,” continued Garnet, “he is excommunicated, and his subjects released from their allegiance. I have two breves sent over by his holiness Pope Clement VIII. three years ago, one directed to the clergy, and the other to the nobility of this realm, wherein, alluding to Queen Elizabeth, it is expressly declared that, ‘so soon as that miserable woman should depart out of this life, none shall be permitted to ascend the throne, how near soever in proximity of blood, unless they are such as will not only tolerate the Catholic faith, but in every way support it.’ By this brief, James is expressly excluded. He has betrayed, not supported the church of Rome. Having broken his word with us, and oppressed our brethren more rigorously even than his predecessor, the remorseless Elizabeth, he is unworthy longer to reign, and must be removed.”
“He must,” reiterated the conspirators.
“The Parliament-house being the place where all the mischief done us has been contrived by our adversaries, it is fitting that it should be the place of their chastisement,” remarked Catesby.
“Doubtless,” rejoined Ambrose Rookwood.
“Yet if the blow we meditate should miscarry,” observed Thomas Winter, “the injury to the Catholic religion will be so great, that not only our enemies, but our very friends will condemn us.”
“There is no chance of miscarriage, if we are true to each other,” returned Catesby, confidently. “And if I suspected any one of treachery, I would plunge my sword into his bosom, were he my brother.”
“You would do wrong to act thus on mere suspicion,” remarked Tresham, who stood near him.
“In a case like this, he who gives the slightest ground for doubt would merit death,” replied Catesby, sternly; “and I would slay him.”
“Hum!” exclaimed Tresham, uneasily.
“Mr. Catesby will now perhaps inform us what has been done to carry the project into effect?” inquired Sir Everard Digby.
“A small habitation has been taken by one of our confederates, Mr. Thomas Percy, immediately adjoining the Parliament-house,” replied Catesby, “from the cellar of which it is proposed to dig a mine through the wall of the devoted building, and to deposit within it a sufficient quantity of gunpowder and other combustibles to accomplish our purpose. This mine must be digged by ourselves, as we can employ no assistants, and will be a laborious and dangerous task. But I for one will cheerfully undertake it.”
“And I,” said the elder Wright.
“And I,” cried several others.
“Supposing the mine digged, and the powder deposited,” observed Ambrose Rookwood, “whose hand will fire the train?”
“Mine!” cried Guy Fawkes, throwing open the door. As soon as he had spoken, he retired and closed it after him.
“He will keep his word,” remarked Garnet. “He is of a nature so resolute that he would destroy himself with the victims rather than fail. Catiline was not a bolder conspirator than Guy Fawkes.”
“Well, gentlemen,” observed Catesby, “we are now at the latter end of July. All must be ready against the meeting of Parliament in November.”
“There is some likelihood, I hear, that the meeting of the house will be prorogued till February,” remarked Tresham.
“So much the better,” rejoined Catesby, “it will give us more time for preparation.”
“So much the worse, I think,” cried Ambrose Rookwood. “Delays are ever dangerous, and doubly dangerous in a case like ours.”
“I am far from desiring to throw any impediment in the way of our design,” observed Sir Everard Digby, “but I would recommend, before we proceed to this terrible extremity, that one last effort should be made to move the King in our behalf.”
“It is useless,” replied Catesby. “So far from toleration, he meditates severer measures against us; and, I am well assured, if Parliament is allowed to meet, such laws will be passed as will bring all of us within premunire. No, no. We have no hope from James, nor his ministers.”
“Nor yet from France or Spain,” observed Thomas Winter. “In my conference with the Constable Velasco at Bergen, I received assurances of the good-will of Philip towards us, but no distinct promise of interference in our behalf. The Archduke Albert is well disposed, but he can render no assistance. We must depend upon ourselves.”
“Ay, marry, must we,” replied Catesby, “and fortunate is it that we have devised a plan by which we can accomplish our purpose unaided. We only require funds to follow up with effect the blow we shall strike.”
“My whole fortune shall be placed at your disposal,” replied Sir Everard Digby.
“Part of mine has already been given,” said Tresham, “and the rest shall follow.”
“Would I had aught to peril in the matter except my life,” said Catesby. “I would throw everything upon the stake.”
“You do enough in venturing thus much, my son,” rejoined Garnet. “To you the whole conduct of the enterprise is committed.”
/> “I live for nothing else,” replied Catesby, “and if I see it successful, I shall have lived long enough.”
“Cannot Sir William Radcliffe be induced to join us?” asked Rookwood. “He would be an important acquisition, and his wealth would prove highly serviceable.”
“I have sounded him,” answered Catesby. “But he appears reluctant.”
“Be not satisfied with one attempt,” urged Christopher Wright. “The jeopardy in which he now stands may make him change his mind.”
“I am loth to interrupt the discussion,” returned Garnet, “but I think we have tarried here long enough. We will meet again at midnight, when I hope to introduce Sir William Radcliffe to you as a confederate.”
The party then separated, and Garnet went in search of the knight.
Ascertaining that he was in his own chamber, he proceeded thither, and found him alone. Entering at once upon the subject in hand, Garnet pleaded his cause with so much zeal that he at last wrung a reluctant consent from the listener. Scarcely able to conceal his exultation, he then proposed to Sir William to adjourn with him to the private chapel in the house, where, having taken the oath, and received the sacrament upon it, he should forthwith be introduced to the conspirators, and the whole particulars of the plot revealed to him. To this the knight, with some hesitation, agreed. As they traversed a gallery leading to the chapel, they met Viviana. For the first time in his life Radcliffe’s gaze sank before his daughter, and he would have passed her without speaking had she not stopped him.
“Father! dear father!” she cried, “I know whither you are going — and for what purpose. Do not — do not join them.”
Guy Fawkes preventing Sir William Radcliffe from joining the Conspiracy.
Sir William Radcliffe made no reply, but endeavoured gently to push her aside.
She would not, however, be repulsed, but prostrating herself before him, clasped his knees, and besought him not to proceed.
Making a significant gesture to Sir William, Garnet walked forward.
“Viviana,” cried the knight, sternly, “my resolution is taken. I command you to retire to your chamber.”
So saying, he broke from her, and followed Garnet. Clasping her hands to her brow, Viviana gazed for a moment with a frenzied look after him, and then rushed from the gallery.
On reaching the chapel, Sir William, who had been much shaken by this meeting, was some minutes in recovering his composure. Garnet employed the time in renewing his arguments, and with so much address that he succeeded in quieting the scruples of conscience which had been awakened in the knight’s breast by his daughter’s warning.
“And now, my son,” he said, “since you have determined to enrol your name in the list of those sworn to deliver their church from oppression, take this primer in your hand, and kneel down before the altar, while I administer the oath which is to unite you to us.”
Garnet then advanced towards the altar, and Sir William was about to prostrate himself upon a cushion beside it, when the door was suddenly thrown open, and Guy Fawkes strode into the chapel.
“Hold!” he exclaimed, grasping Radcliffe’s right arm, and fixing his dark glance upon him; “you shall not take that oath.”
“What mean you?” cried Garnet, who, as well as the knight, was paralyzed with astonishment at this intrusion. “Sir William Radcliffe is about to join us.”
“I know it,” replied Fawkes; “but it may not be. He has no heart in the business, and will lend it no efficient assistance. We are better without him, than with him.”
As he spoke, he took the primer from the knight’s hand, and laid it upon the altar.
“This conduct is inexplicable,” cried Garnet, angrily. “You will answer for it to others, as well as to me.”
“I will answer for it to all,” replied Guy Fawkes. “Let Sir William Radcliffe declare before me, and before Heaven, that he approves the measure, and I am content he should take the oath.”
“I cannot belie my conscience by saying so,” replied the knight, who appeared agitated by conflicting emotions.
“Yet you have promised to join us,” cried Garnet, reproachfully.
“Better break that promise than a solemn oath,” rejoined Guy Fawkes, sternly. “Sir William Radcliffe, there are reasons why you should not join this conspiracy. Examine your inmost heart, and it will tell you what they are.”
“I understand you,” replied the knight.
“Get hence,” cried Garnet, unable to control his indignation, “or I will pronounce our Church’s most terrible malediction against you.”
“I shall not shrink from it, father,” rejoined Fawkes, humbly, but firmly, “seeing I am acting rightly.”
“Undeceive yourself, then, at once,” returned Garnet, “and learn that you are thwarting our great and holy purpose.”
“On the contrary,” replied Fawkes, “I am promoting it, by preventing one from joining it who will endanger its success.”
“You are a traitor!” cried Garnet, furiously.
“A traitor!” exclaimed Guy Fawkes, his eye blazing with fierce lustre, though his voice and demeanour were unaltered,— “I, who have been warned thrice, — twice by the dead, — and lastly by a vision from heaven, yet still remain firm to my purpose, — I, who have voluntarily embraced the most dangerous and difficult part of the enterprise, — I, who would suffer the utmost extremity of torture, rather than utter a word that should reveal it, — a traitor! No, father, I am none. If you think so, take this sword and at once put an end to your doubts.”
There was something so irresistible in the manner of Guy Fawkes, that Garnet remained silent.
“Do with me what you please,” continued Fawkes; “but do not compel Sir William Radcliffe to join the conspiracy. He will be fatal to it.”
“No one shall compel me to join it,” replied the knight.
“Perhaps it is better thus,” returned Garnet, after a pause, during which he was buried in reflection. “I will urge you no further, my son. But before you depart you must swear not to divulge what you have just learnt.”
“Willingly,” replied the knight.
“There is another person who must also take that oath,” said Guy Fawkes, “having accidentally become acquainted with as much as yourself.”
And stepping out of the chapel, he immediately afterwards returned with Viviana.
“You will now understand why I would not allow Sir William to join the conspiracy,” he observed to Garnet.
“I do,” replied the latter, gloomily.
The oath administered, the knight and his daughter quitted the chapel, accompanied by Guy Fawkes. Viviana was profuse in her expressions of gratitude, nor was her father less earnest in his acknowledgments.
A few hours after this, Sir William Radcliffe informed Sir Everard Digby that it was his intention to depart immediately, and, though the latter attempted to dissuade him by representing the danger to which he would be exposed, he continued inflexible. The announcement surprised both Catesby and Garnet, who were present when it was made, and added their entreaties to those of Digby — but without effect. Catesby’s proposal to serve as an escort was likewise refused by Sir William, who said he had no fears, and when questioned as to his destination, he returned an evasive answer. This sudden resolution of the knight coupled with his refusal to join the plot, alarmed the conspirators, and more than one expressed fears of treachery. Sir Everard Digby, however, was not of the number, but asserted that Radcliffe was a man of the highest honour, and he would answer for his secrecy with his life.
“Will you answer for that of his daughter?” demanded Tresham.
“I will,” replied Fawkes.
“To put the matter beyond a doubt,” observed Catesby, “I will set out shortly after him, and follow him unobserved till he halts for the night, and ascertain whether he stops at any suspicious quarter.”
“Do so, my son,” replied Garnet.
“It is needless,” observed Sir Everard Digby; “but d
o as you please.”
By this time, Radcliffe’s horses being brought round by Heydocke, he and his daughter took a hasty leave of their friends. When they had been gone a few minutes, Catesby called for his steed; and, after exchanging a word or two with Garnet, rode after them. He had proceeded about a couple of miles along a cross-road leading to Nantwich, which he learnt from some cottagers was the route taken by the party before him, when he heard the tramp of a horse in the rear, and, turning at the sound, beheld Guy Fawkes. Drawing in the bridle, he halted till the latter came up, and angrily demanded on what errand he was bent.
“My errand is the same as your own,” replied Fawkes. “I intend to follow Sir William Radcliffe, and, if need be, defend him.”
Whatever Catesby’s objections might be to this companionship, he did not think fit to declare them, and, though evidently much displeased, suffered Guy Fawkes to ride by his side without opposition.
Having gained the summit of the mountainous range extending from Malpas to Tottenhall, whence they beheld the party whose course they were tracking enter a narrow lane at the foot of the hill, Catesby, fearful of losing sight of them, set spurs to his steed. Guy Fawkes kept close beside him, and they did not slacken their pace until they reached the lane.
Having proceeded along it for a quarter of a mile, they were alarmed by the sudden report of fire-arms, followed by a loud shriek, which neither of them doubted was uttered by Viviana. Again dashing forward, on turning a corner of the road, they beheld the party surrounded by half-a-dozen troopers. Sir William Radcliffe had shot one of his assailants, and, assisted by Heydocke, was defending himself bravely against the others. With loud shouts, Catesby and Guy Fawkes galloped towards the scene of strife. But they were too late. A bullet pierced the knight’s brain; and he no sooner fell, than, regardless of himself, the old steward flung away his sword, and threw himself, with the most piteous lamentations, on the body.
Viviana, meanwhile, had been compelled to dismount, and was in the hands of the troopers. On seeing her father’s fate, her shrieks were so heart-piercing, that even her captors were moved to compassion. Fighting his way towards her, Catesby cut down one of the troopers, and snatching her from the grasp of the other, who was terrified by the furious assault, placed her on the saddle beside him, and striking spurs into his charger at the same moment, leapt the hedge, and made good his retreat.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 187
