Account of the Plot's Discovery

WHAT WAS THE
GUNPOWDER PLOT?

THE TRADITIONAL STORY TESTED BY
 
ORIGINAL EVIDENCE

by

John Gerard, S.J.

OSGOOD, McILVAINE & CO.
45, Albemarle Street, W.
1897

CHAPTER VI: THE "DISCOVERY."

When the conspirators first undertook their enterprise, Parliament was appointed to meet on February 7th, 1604-5, but, as has been seen, it was subsequently prorogued till October 3rd, and then again till Tuesday, November 5th. On occasion of the October prorogation, the confederates employed Thomas Winter to attend the ceremony in order to learn from the demeanour of the assembled Peers whether any suspicion of their design had suggested this unexpected adjournment. He returned to report that no symptom could be discerned of alarm or uneasiness, and that the presence of the volcano underfoot was evidently unsuspected. Thus reassured, his associates awaited with confidence the advent of the fatal Fifth.

In the interval occurred the event which forms the official link connecting the secret and the public history of the Plot, namely, the receipt of the letter of warning by Lord Monteagle. That the document is of supreme importance in our history cannot be denied, for the government account clearly stands or falls with the assertion that this was in reality the means whereby the impending catastrophe was averted. That it was so, the official story proclaimed from the first with a vehemence in itself suspicious, and the famous letter was exhibited to the world with a persistence and solicitude not easy to explain; being printed in the "King's Book," and in every other account of the affair; while transcribed copies were sent to the ambassadors at foreign courts and other public personages.^[241] Had a warning really been given, in such a case, to save the life of a kinsman or friend, the circumstance, however fortunate, would scarcely have been wonderful, nor can we think that the document would thus have been multiplied for inspection. If, on the other hand, it had been carefully contrived for its purpose, it would not be unnatural for those who knew where the weak point lay, to wish the world to be convinced that there really had been a letter. It is, moreover, not easy to understand the importance attributed to Monteagle's service in connection with it. To have handed to the authorities such a message, evidently of an alarming nature, though he himself did not professedly understand it, does not appear to have entitled him to the extraordinary consideration which he in fact received. The Attorney General was specially instructed, at the trial, to extol his lordship's conduct.^[242] Wherever, in the confession of the conspirators, his name was mentioned, it was erased, or pasted over with paper, or the whole passage was omitted before publication of the document. All this is easy to understand if he were the instrument employed for a critical and delicate transaction, depending for success upon his discretion and reticence. On any other supposition it seems inexplicable.

Moreover, Monteagle's services received most substantial acknowledgment in the form of a grant of £700 a year, ^[243] equivalent, at least, to ten times that amount in money of the present day. ^[244] There still exists ^[245] the draft preamble of the grant making this award, which has been altered and emended with an amount of care which sufficiently testifies to the importance of the matter. In this it is said of the letter that by the knowledge thereof "we had the first and only means to discover that most wicked and barbarous plot"—the words italicised being added as an interlineation by Cecil himself. Nevertheless, it appears certain that this is not, and cannot be, the truth; indeed, historians of all shades equally discountenance the idea. Mr. Jardine ^[246] considers it "hardly credible that the letter was really the means by which the plot was discovered," and inclines to the belief ^[247] that the whole story concerning it "was merely a device of the government ... to conceal the means by which their information had been derived." Similarly Mr. J.S. Brewer ^[248] holds it as certain that this part, at least, of the story is a fiction designed to conceal the truth. Mr. Gardiner, who is less inclined than others to give up the received story, thinks that, to say the least of it, it is highly probable that Monteagle expected the letter before it came. ^[249]

For a right understanding of the point it is necessary to consider the character of the man who plays so important a part in this episode. Lord Monteagle, the eldest son of Lord Morley, ennobled under a title derived through his mother, was, in Mr. Jardine's opinion, ^[250] "a person precisely adapted for an instrument on such an occasion;" and the description appears even more applicable than was intended. He had been implicated in all the doings of the turbulent section of the English Catholics ^[251] for several years, having taken part in the rising of Essex, and in the Spanish negotiations, whatever they were, conducted through the instrumentality of Thomas Winter. With Catesby, and others of the conspirators, he was on terms of the closest and most intimate friendship, and Tresham was his brother-in-law. A letter of his to Catesby is still preserved, which, in the opinion of some, affords evidence of his having been actually engaged in the Powder Plot itself; ^[252] and Mr. Jardine, though dissenting from the view that the letter proves so much, judges it not at all impossible or improbable that he was in fact privy to the conspiracy. It is likewise certain that up to the last moment Monteagle was on familiar terms with the plotters, to whom, a few days before the final catastrophe, he imparted an important piece of information. ^[253]

At the same time it is evident that Monteagle was in high favour at Court, as is sufficiently evidenced by the fact that he was appointed to be one of the commissioners for the prorogation of October 3rd, a most unusual distinction for one in his position, as also by the pains taken by the government on behalf of his brother, who had shortly before got himself into trouble in France. ^[254] A still more remarkable circumstance has been strangely overlooked by historians. ^[255] Monteagle always passed for a Catholic, turbulent indeed and prone to violence, but attached, even fanatically, to his creed, like his friend Catesby and the rest. There remains, however, an undated letter of his to the king,^[256] in which he expresses his determination to become a Protestant; and while in fulsome language extolling his Majesty's zeal for his spiritual welfare, speaks with bitterness and contempt of the faith which, nevertheless, he continued to profess to the end of his life, and that without exciting suspicion of his deceit among the Catholics. Not only must this shake our confidence in the genuine nature of any transaction in which such a man played a prominent part, it must likewise suggest a doubt whether others may not in like manner have passed themselves off for what they were not, without arousing suspicion.

The precise facts as to the actual receipt of the famous letter are involved, like every other particular of this history, in the obscurity begotten of contradictory evidence. In the published account, ^[257] it is stated with great precision that it was received by Monteagle on Saturday, October 26th, being but ten days before the Parliament. In his letter to the ambassadors abroad, ^[258] Cecil dates its receipt "about eight days before the Parliament should have begun." In the account furnished for the benefit of the King of France, ^[259] the same authority declares that it came to hand "some four or five days before." A doubt is thus unquestionably suggested as to whether the circumstances of its coming to Monteagle's hands are those traditionally described: for our present purpose, however, it will perhaps be sufficient to follow the story as formally told by authority in the king's own book.

On Saturday, October 26th, ten days before the assembly of Parliament, Monteagle suddenly, and without previous notice, ordered a supper to be prepared at his house at Hoxton "where he had not supped or lain of a twelvemonth and more before that time." ^[260] While he was at table one of his pages brought him a letter which had been given to him by a man in the street, whose features he could not distinguish, with injunctions to place it in his master's own hands. It is undoubtedly a singular circumstance, which did not escape notice at the time, that the bearer of this missive should have thus been able to find Monteagle at a spot which he was not accustomed to frequent, and the obvious inference was drawn, that the arrival of the letter was expected. On this point, indeed, there is somewhat more than inference to go upon, for in Fulman's MS. collection at Corpus Christi College, Oxford, among some interesting notes concerning the Plot, of which we shall see more, occurs the statement that "the Lord Monteagle knew there was a letter to be sent to him before it came." ^[261]

Monteagle opened the letter, and, glancing at it, perceived that it bore neither date nor signature, whereupon he handed it to a gentleman of his household, named Ward, to read aloud, an apparently unnatural and imprudent proceeding not easy to explain, but, at least, inconsistent with the conduct of one receiving an obviously important communication in such mysterious circumstances. The famous epistle must be given in its native form.

Monteagle, though he saw little or nothing in this strange effusion, resolved at once to communicate with the king's ministers, his Majesty being at the time engaged at Royston in his favourite pastime of the chase, and accordingly proceeding at once to town, he placed the mysterious document in the hands of the Earl of Salisbury. ^[262]

As to what thereafter followed and the manner in which from this clue the discovery was actually accomplished, it is impossible to say more than this, that the accounts handed down cannot by any possibility be true, inasmuch as on every single point they are utterly and hopelessly at variance. We can do no more than set down the particulars as supplied to us on the very highest authority.

A.—The account published in the "King's Book."

1. The letter was received ten days before the meeting of Parliament, i.e., on October 26th.

2. The Earl of Salisbury judged it to be the effusion of a lunatic, but thought it well, nevertheless, to communicate it to the king.

3. This was done five days afterwards, November 1st, when, in spite of his minister's incredulity, James insisted that the letter could intend nothing but the blowing up of the Parliament with gunpowder, and that a search must be made, which, however, should be postponed till the last moment.

4. Accordingly, on the afternoon of Monday, November 4th, the Lord Chamberlain going on a tour of inspection, visited the "cellar" and found there "great store of billets, faggots, and coals," and moreover, "casting his eye aside, perceived a fellow standing in a corner ... Guido Fawkes the owner of that hand which should have acted that monstrous tragedy." Coming back, the chamberlain reported that the provision of fuel appeared extraordinary, and that as to the man, "he looked like a very tall and desperate fellow."

5. Thereupon the king insisted that a thorough scrutiny must be made, and that "those billets and coals should be searched to the bottom, it being most suspicious that they were laid there only for covering of the powder." For this purpose Sir Thomas Knyvet, a magistrate, was despatched with a suitable retinue.

6. Before his entrance to the house, Knyvet found Faukes "standing without the doors, his boots and clothes on," and straightway apprehended him. Then, going into the cellar, he removed the firewood and at once discovered the barrels.

B.—The Account sent by Salisbury to the Ambassadors abroad, and the Deputy in Ireland, November 9th, 1605.

1. The letter was received about eight days before the Parliament.

2. Upon perusal thereof, Salisbury and Suffolk, the chamberlain, "both conceived that it could not be more proper than the time of Parliament, nor by any other way to be attempted than with powder, while the King was sitting in that Assembly." With this interpretation other Lords of the Council agreed; but they thought it well not to impart the matter to the king till three or four days before the session.

3. His Majesty was "hard of belief" that any such thing was intended, but his advisers overruled him and insisted on a search, not however till the last moment.

ARREST OF GUY FAWKES

4. About 3 o'clock on the afternoon of Monday, November 4th, the Lord Chamberlain, Suffolk, visited the cellar, and found in it only firewood and not Faukes.

5. The lords however insisting, in spite of the king, that the matter should be probed to the bottom, Knyvet was despatched with orders to "remove all the wood, and so to see the plain ground underneath."

6. Knyvet, about midnight, "going unlooked for into the vault, found that fellow Johnson [i.e., Faukes] newly come out of the vault," and seized him. Then, having removed the wood, he perceived the barrels.

C.—The Account furnished by Salisbury for the information of the King of France, November 6th, 1605. (Original draft, in the P.R.O.)

1. The letter was received some four or five days before the Parliament.

2. This being shown to the king and the lords, "their lordships found not good ... to give much credit to it, nor yet so to contemn it as to do nothing at all."

3. It was accordingly determined, the night before, "to make search about that place and to appoint a watch in the old Palace, to observe what persons might resort thereabouts."

4. Sir T. Knyvet, being appointed to the charge thereof, going by chance, about midnight, into the vault, by another door, found Faukes within. Thereupon he caused some few faggots to be removed, and so discovered some of the barrels, "merely, as it were, by God's direction, having no other cause but a general jealousy." ^[263]

Never, assuredly, was a true story so hard to tell. Contradictions like these, upon every single point of the narrative, are just such as are wont to betray the author of a fiction when compelled to be circumstantial.

To say nothing of the curious discrepancies as to the date of the warning, it is clearly impossible to determine the locality of Guy's arrest. The account officially published in the "King's Book" says that this took place in the street. The letter to the ambassadors assigns it to the cellar and afterwards to the street; that to Parry, to the cellar only. Faukes himself, in his confession of November 5th, says that he was apprehended neither in the street nor in the cellar, but in his own room in the adjoining house. Chamberlain writes to Carleton, November 7th, that it was in the cellar. Howes, in his continuation of Stowe's Annals, describes two arrests of Faukes, one in the street, the other upstairs in his own chamber. This point, though seemingly somewhat trivial, has been invested with much importance. According to the time-honoured story, the baffled desperado roundly declared that had he been within reach of the powder when his captors appeared, he would have applied a match and involved them in his own destruction. This circumstance is strongly insisted on not only in the "King's Book," but also in his Majesty's speech to Parliament on November 9th, which declared, "and in that also was there a wonderful providence of God, that when the party himself was taken he was but new come out of his house from working, having his fire-work for kindling ready in his pocket, wherewith, as he confesseth, if he been taken immediately before, he was resolved to have blown up himself with his takers." We learn, however, from Cecil's earliest version of the history, that Faukes was apprehended in the very situation most suitable for such a purpose, "in the place itself, as he was busy to prepare his things for execution," while Chamberlain adds that he was actually engaged in "making his trains."

Far more serious, to say nothing of the episode of the chamberlain's visit, are the divergencies of the several versions as to the very substance of the story. We are told that King James was the first to understand and interpret the letter which had baffled the sagacity of his Privy Council; that the Lords of the Council had fully interpreted it several days before the king saw it; that the said lords would not credit the king's interpretation; that the king would not believe their interpretation; and that neither the one nor the other ever interpreted it at all; that his Majesty insisted on a search being made in spite of the reluctance of his ministers; that they insisted on the search in spite of the reluctance of their royal master; and that no such search was ever proposed by either; that Knyvet was despatched expressly to look for gunpowder, with instructions to rummage the firewood to the bottom, leaving no cover in which a barrel might lie hid; and that having no instructions to do anything of the kind, nor any reason to suspect the existence of any barrels, he discovered them only by a piece of luck, so purely fortuitous as to be clearly providential. On this last point especially the contradictions are absolutely irreconcilable.

It is abundantly evident that those who with elaborate care produced these various versions were not supremely solicitous about the truth of the matter, and varied the tale according to the requirements of circumstances. As Mr. Jardine acknowledges, ^[264] the great object of the official accounts was to obtain credence for what the government wished to be believed, or, as Father Gerard puts it, ^[265] these accounts were composed "with desire that men should all conceive this to be the manner how the treason came to light." If from time to time the details were altogether transformed, it was clearly not through any abstract love of historical accuracy, but rather that there were difficulties to meet and doubts to satisfy, which had to be dealt with in order to produce the desired effect.

That, from the beginning, there was whispered disbelief, which it was held all-important to silence, is sufficiently attested by Cecil himself, when, on the very morrow of the discovery, he sent to Parry his first draft of the history. "Thus much," he wrote, "I have thought necessary to impart unto you in haste, to the end that you may deliver as much to the French king, for prevention of false bruits, which I know, as the nature of fame is, will be increased, ^[266] perverted, and disguised according to the disposition of men."

It does not appear why the appearance of erroneous versions of so striking an event should have been thus confidently anticipated if the facts were undeniably established; while, on the other hand, it is not a little remarkable that the narrative thus expressly designed to establish the truth, should have been forthwith abandoned and contradicted by its author in every single particular.

Important information upon the same point is furnished by Cecil in another letter, written in the following January. ^[267] He undertakes to explain to his correspondent how it came to pass that a circumstance of supreme importance, of which the government were fully cognizant, ^[268] was not mentioned in the official account. This he does as follows: "And although in his Majesty's book there is not any mention made of them [the Jesuits], and of many things else which came to the knowledge of the State, yet is it but a frivolous inference that thereby [they] seek to serve their turn, considering the purpose of his Majesty was not to deliver unto the world all that was confessed concerning this action, but so much only of the manner and form of it, and the means of the discovery, as might make it apparent, both how wickedly it was conceived by those devilish instruments, and how graciously it pleased God to deal with us in such an extraordinary discovery thereof."

Turning to the details of the story which survive the struggle for existence in the conflict of testimony, if any can be said to do so, there is abundant matter deserving attention, albeit we may at once dismiss the time-honoured legend concerning the sagacity of the British Solomon, and his marvellous interpretation of the riddling phrases which baffled the perspicacity of all besides himself. ^[269]

More important is Cecil's admission that the presence of the powder under the Parliament House was at least suspected for several days before anything was done to interfere with the proceedings of those who had put it there. The reasons alleged for so extraordinary a course are manifestly absurd. It was resolved, he told the ambassadors, "that, till the night before, nothing should be done to interrupt any purpose of theirs that had any such devilish practice, but rather to suffer them to go on to the end of their day." In like manner he informed the Privy Council^[270] that it was determined to make no earlier search, that "such [Pg 133]as had such practice in hand might not be scared before they had let the matter run on to a full ripeness for discovery." It certainly appears that, at least, it would have been well before the eleventh hour to institute observations as to who might be coming and going about the cellar. On the other hand, can it be imagined that any minister in his right senses would have allowed the existence of a danger so appalling to continue so long, and have suffered a desperado like Faukes to have gone on knocking about with his flint and steel and lantern in a powder magazine beneath the House of Parliament? Accidents are proverbially always possible, and in the circumstances described to us there would have been much more than a mere possibility, for the action said to have been taken by the authorities, in sending the chamberlain to "peruse" the vault, seems to have been expressly intended to give the alarm; and had the conspirators been scared it would evidently have been their safest plan to have precipitated the catastrophe, that in the confusion it would cause they might escape. How terrible such a catastrophe would have been is indicated by Father Greenway:^[271] "Over and above the grievous loss involved in the destruction of these ancient and noble buildings, of the archives and national records, the king himself might have been in peril, and other royal edifices, though situate at a distance, and undoubtedly many would have perished who had come up to attend the Parliament." Moreover, the loss of life in so thickly populated a spot must have been frightful, and especially amongst the official classes.

Father Greenway expresses his utter disbelief in the incident of the chamberlain's visit:^[272] "To speak my own mind," he writes, "I do not see in this portion of the story any sort of probability." He adds another remark of great importance. If the Lord Chamberlain,—and, we may add, Sir T. Knyvet,—could get into the cellar without the assistance of Faukes, to say nothing of the "other door" which makes its appearance in Cecil's first version, there is an end of the secret and hidden nature of the place, and some one else must have had a key. How, then, about the months during which the powder had been lying in it; during much of which time it had been, apparently, left to take care of itself? Did no man ever enter and inspect it before?

But questions far more fundamental inevitably suggest themselves. If, during ten, or even during five days, a minister so astute and vigilant was willing to risk the danger of an explosion, it certainly does not appear that he was much afraid of the powder, or thought there was any harm in it. We have already remarked on the strangeness of the circumstance that the plotters were able so easily to procure it. It may be observed that they appear themselves to have been disappointed with its quality, for we are told ^[273] that late in the summer they added to their store "as suspecting the former to be dank." Still more remarkable, however, was the conduct of the government. Immediately upon the "discovery" they instituted the most minute and searching inquiries as to every other particular connected with the conspirators. We find copious evidence taken about their haunts, their lodgings, and their associates: of the boatmen who conveyed them hither and thither, the porters who carried billets, and the carpenters who worked for them: inquiries were diligently instituted as to where were purchased the iron bars laid on top of the barrels, which appear to have been considered especially dangerous; we hear of sword-hilts engraved for some of the company, of three beaver hats bought by another, and of the sixpence given to the boy who brought them home. But concerning the gunpowder no question appears ever to have been asked, whence it came, or who furnished it. Yet this would appear to be a point at least as important as the rest, and if it was left in absolute obscurity, the inference is undoubtedly suggested that it was not wished to have questions raised. It may be added that no mention is discoverable of the augmentation of the royal stores by so notable a contribution as this would have furnished.

Neither can it escape observation that whereas the powder was discovered only on the morning ^[274] of November 5th, the peers met as usual in their chamber that very day. ^[275] It cannot be supposed either that four tons of powder could have been so soon removed, or that the most valuable persons in the State would have been suffered to expose themselves to the risk of assembling in so perilous a situation. ^[276]

However this may be, from the moment of the "discovery" the discovered gunpowder disappears from history. ^[277]

DISCOVERY OF GUNPOWDER PLOT, AND COINS OF JAMES I

There is another point which must be noticed. It might naturally be supposed that after so narrow an escape, and in accordance with their loud protestations of alarm at the proximity of a shocking calamity from which they had been so providentially delivered, the official authorities would have carefully guarded against the possibility of the like happening again. Their acts, however, were quite inconsistent with their words, for they did nothing of the kind. For more than seventy years afterwards the famous "cellar" continued to be leased in the same easy-going fashion to any who chose to hire it, and continued to be the receptacle of all manner of rubbish and lumber, eminently suited to mask another battery. Not till the days of the mendacious Titus Oates, and under the influence of the panic he had engendered, did the Peers bethink themselves that a project such as that of Guy Faukes might really be a danger, and command that the "cellar" should be searched. ^[278] This was done, in November, 1678, by no less personages than Sir Christopher Wren and Sir Jonas Moore, who reported that the vaults and cellars under and near the House of Lords were in such a condition that there could be no assurance of safety. It was accordingly ordered that they should be cleared of all timber, firewood, coals, and other materials, and that passages should be made through them all, to the end that they might easily be examined. At this time, and not before, was instituted the traditional searching of the cellars on the eve of Parliament.^[279]

What then, it will be asked, really did occur? What was done by the conspirators? and what by those who discovered them?

Truth to tell, it is difficult, or rather impossible, to answer such questions. That there was a plot of some kind cannot, of course, be doubted; that it was of such a nature as we have been accustomed to believe, can be affirmed only if we are willing to ignore difficulties which are by no means slight. There is, doubtless, a mass of evidence in support of the traditional story upon these points, but while its value has yet to be discussed, there are other considerations, hitherto overlooked, which are in conflict with it.

Something has been said of the amazing contradictions which a very slight examination of the official story reveals at every turn, and much more might be added under the same head. ^[280]

"GUY FAUKES' LANTERN"

On the other hand it is clear that even as to the material facts there was not at the time that unanimity which might have been expected. We have seen how anxious was the Secretary of State that the French court should at once be rightly informed as to all particulars. We learn, however, from Mr. Dudley Carleton, then attached to the embassy at Paris, ^[281] that in spite of Cecil's promptitude he was anticipated by a version of the affair sent over from the French embassy in London, giving an utterly different complexion to it. According to this, the design had been, "That the council being set, and some lords besides in the chamber, a barrel of gunpowder should be fired underneath them, and the greater part, if not all, blown up." According to this informant, therefore, it was not the Parliament House but the Council Chamber which was to have been assailed, there is no mention of the king, and we have one barrel of powder instead of thirty-six. It is not easy to understand how in such a matter a mistake like this could have been made, for it is the inevitable tendency of men to begin by exaggerating, and not by minimizing, a sudden and startling peril. ^[282]

Moreover, even this modest version of the affair was not suffered to pass unchallenged. Three days later Carleton again wrote: ^[283] "The fire which was said to have burnt our king and council, and hath been so hot these two days past in every man's mouth, proves but ignis fatuus, or a flash of some foolish fellow's brain to abuse the world; for it is now as confidently reported there was no such matter, nor anything near it more than a barrel of powder found near the court."

It must here be observed that the scepticism thus early manifested appears never to have been exorcised from the minds of French writers, many of whom, of all shades of thought, continue, down to our day, to assume that the real plotters were the king's government. ^[284]

Neither can we overlook sundry difficulties, again suggested by the facts of the case, which make it hard to understand how the plans of the plotters can in reality have been as they are represented.

We have already observed on the nature of the house occupied in Percy's name. If this were, as Speed tells us, and as there is no reason to doubt, at The service of the Peers during a session, for a withdrawing-room, and if the session was to begin on November 5th, how could Faukes hope not only to remain in possession, but to carry on his strange proceedings unobserved, amid the crowd of lacqueys and officials with whom the opening of Parliament by the Sovereign must needs have flooded the premises? How was he, unobserved, to get into the fatal "cellar"?

This difficulty is emphasized by another. We learn, on the unimpeachable testimony of Mrs. Whynniard, the landlady, that Faukes not only paid the last instalment of rent on Sunday, November 3rd, but on the following day, the day immediately preceding the intended explosion, had carpenters and other workfolk in the house "for mending and repairing thereof." ^[285] To say nothing of the wonderful honesty of paying rent under the circumstances, what was the sense of putting a house in repair upon Monday, which on Tuesday was to be blown to atoms? And how could the practised eyes of such workmen fail to detect some trace of the extraordinary and unskilled operations of which the house is said to have been the theatre? If, indeed, the truth is that on the Tuesday the premises were to be handed over for official use, it is easy to understand why it was thought necessary to set them in order, but on no other supposition does this appear comprehensible.

Problems, not easy to solve, connect themselves, likewise, with the actual execution of the conspirators' plan. If it would have been hard for Guy Faukes to get into the "cellar," how was he ever to get out of it again? We are so accustomed to the idea of darkness and obscurity in connection with him and his business, as perhaps to forget that his project was to have been executed in the very middle of the day, about noon or shortly afterwards. The king was to come in state with retinue and guards, and attended by a large concourse of spectators, who, as is usual on such occasions, would throng every nook and corner whence could be obtained a glimpse of the building in which the royal speech was being delivered. ^[286] It cannot be doubted, in particular, that the open spaces adjacent to the House itself would be strictly guarded, and the populace not suffered to approach too near the sacred precincts, more especially when, as we have seen, so many suspicions were abroad of danger to his sacred Majesty, and to the Parliament.

On a sudden a door immediately beneath the spot where the flower of the nation were assembled, would be unlocked and opened, and there would issue there-from a man, "looking like a very tall and desperate fellow," booted and spurred and equipped for travel. He was to have but a quarter of an hour to save himself from the ruin he had prepared. ^[287] What possible chance was there that he would have been allowed to pass?

As to his further plans, we have the most extravagant and contradictory accounts, some obviously fabulous. ^[288] According to the least incredible, a vessel was lying below London Bridge ready at once to proceed to sea and carry him to Flanders; while a boat, awaiting him at the Parliament stairs, was to convey him to the ship.^[289] If this were so, it is not clear why he equipped himself with his spurs, which, however, are authenticated by as good evidence as any other feature of the story. It would also appear that, here again, the plan proposed was altogether impracticable, for at the time of his projected flight the tide would have been flowing, ^[290] and it is well known that to attempt to pass Old London Bridge against it would have been like trying to row up a waterfall. Neither does it seem probable that the vessel would have been able to get out of the Thames for several hours, before which time all egress would doubtless have been stopped.

Such considerations must at least avail to make us pause before we can unhesitatingly accept the traditional history, even in those broad outlines which appear to be best established. The main point is, however, independent of their truth. Though all be as has been affirmed concerning the "cellar" and its contents, and the plan of operations agreed upon by the traitors, the question remains as to the real nature of the "discovery." We have seen, on the one hand, that the official narrative bristles with contradictions, and, whatever be the truth, with falsehoods. On the other hand, the said narrative was avowedly prepared with the object of obtaining credence for the picturesque but unveracious assertion that the plotters' design was detected "very miraculously, even some twelve hours before the matter should have been put in execution." On the Earl of Salisbury's own admission, it had been divined almost as many days previously, and it was laid open at the last moment only because he deliberately chose to wait till the last moment before doing anything. No doubt a dramatic feature was thus added to the business, and one eminently calculated to impress the public mind: but they who insist so loudly on the miraculousness of an event which they alone have invested with the character of a miracle, must be content to have it believed that they knew still more than in an unguarded moment they acknowledged, and arranged other things concerning the Plot than its ultimate disclosure. ^[291]

FOOTNOTES: