CHAPTER XIII.
THE FLIGHT OF THE CONSPIRATORS.
On the same night, and at the same hour that Guy Fawkes was captured,the other conspirators held their rendezvous in Lincoln's Inn Walks. Apresentiment of the fate awaiting them filled the breasts of all, andeven Catesby shared in the general depression. Plan after plan wasproposed, and, as soon as proposed, rejected; and they seemed influencedonly by alarm and irresolution. Feeling at length that nothing could bedone, and that they were only increasing their risk by remainingtogether longer, they agreed to separate, appointing to meet at the sameplace on the following night, if their project should not, in theinterim, be discovered.
"Before daybreak," said Catesby, "I will proceed to the cellar under theParliament House, and ascertain whether anything has happened to GuyFawkes. My heart misgives me about him, and I reproach myself that Ihave allowed him to incur this peril alone."
"Guy Fawkes is arrested," said a voice near them, "and is at this momentunder examination before the King."
"It is Tresham who speaks," cried Catesby; "secure him!"
The injunction was instantly obeyed. Tresham was seized, and severalweapons pointed against his breast. He did not, however, appear to bedismayed, but, so far as could be discerned in the obscurity, seemed tomaintain great boldness of demeanour.
"I have again ventured among you, at the hazard of my life," he said, ina firm tone, "to give you this most important intelligence; and amrequited, as I have ever been of late, with menaces and violence. Stabme, and see whether my death will avail you in this extremity. I am inequal danger with yourselves; and whether I perish by your hands, or bythose of the executioner, is of little moment."
"Let me question him before we avenge ourselves upon him," said Catesbyto Rookwood. "How do you know that Guy Fawkes is a prisoner?"
"I saw him taken," replied Tresham, "and esteem myself singularlyfortunate that I escaped the same fate. Though excluded from furthershare in the project, I could not divest myself of a strong desire toknow how matters were going on, and I resolved to visit the cellarsecretly at midnight. As I stealthily approached it, I remarked severalarmed figures beneath a gateway, and conjecturing their purpose,instantly concealed myself behind a projection of the wall. I had notbeen in this situation many minutes, when the cellar door opened, andGuy Fawkes issued from it."
"Well!" cried Catesby, breathlessly.
"The party I had noticed immediately rushed forward, and secured himbefore he could offer any resistance," continued Tresham. "After a briefstruggle, certain of their number dragged him into the cellar, whileothers kept watch without. I should now have flown, but my limbs refusedtheir office, and I was therefore compelled, however reluctantly, to seethe end of it. In a short time Guy Fawkes was brought forth again, and Iheard some one in authority give directions that he should be instantlytaken to Whitehall, to be interrogated before the King and the PrivyCouncil. He was then led away, and a guard placed at the door of thecellar. Feeling certain I should be discovered, I continued for sometime in an agony of apprehension, not daring to stir. But, at length,summoning up sufficient resolution, I crept cautiously along the side ofthe wall, and got off unperceived. My first object was to warn you."
"How did you become acquainted with our place of rendezvous?" demandedthe elder Wright.
"I overheard you, at our last interview at White Webbs, appoint amidnight meeting in this place," replied Tresham, "and I hurried hitherin the hope of finding you, and have not been disappointed."
"When I give the word, plunge your swords into his breast," saidCatesby, in a low tone.
"Hold!" cried Percy, taking him aside. "If we put him to death in thisspot, his body will be found, and his slaughter may awaken suspicionsagainst us. Guy Fawkes will reveal nothing."
"Of that I am well assured," said Catesby. "Shall we take the traitorwith us to some secure retreat, where we can detain him till we learnwhat takes place at the palace, and if we find he has betrayed us,despatch him?"
"That would answer no good purpose," returned Percy "The sooner we arerid of him the better. We can then deliberate as to what is best to bedone."
"You are right," rejoined Catesby. "If he _has_ betrayed us, life willbe a burthen to him, and the greatest kindness we could render him wouldbe to rid him of it. Let him go. Tresham," he added, in a loud voice,"you are free. But we meet no more."
"We have not parted yet," cried the traitor, springing backwards, anduttering a loud cry. "I arrest you all in the King's name."
The signal was answered by a band of soldiers, who emerged from behindthe trees where they had hitherto been concealed, and instantlysurrounded the conspirators.
"It is now my turn to threaten," laughed Tresham.
Catesby replied by drawing a petronel, and firing it in the supposeddirection of the speaker. But he missed his mark. The ball lodged in thebrain of a soldier who was standing beside him, and the ill-fated wretchfell to the ground.
A desperate conflict now ensued. Topcliffe, who commanded the assailingparty, ordered his followers to take the conspirators alive, and it wasmainly owing to this injunction that the latter were indebted for theirsafety. Whispering his directions to his companions, Catesby gave theword, and making a simultaneous rush forward, they broke through theopposing ranks, and instantly dispersing, and favoured by the gloom,they baffled pursuit.
"We have failed in this part of our scheme," said Tresham to Topcliffe,as they met half an hour afterwards. "What is to be done?"
"We must take the Earl of Salisbury's advice upon it," returnedTopcliffe. "I shall now hasten to Whitehall to see how Guy Fawkes'sinterrogation proceeds, and will communicate with his lordship."
Upon this, they separated.
None of the conspirators met again that night. Each fled in a differentdirection, and, ignorant of what had happened to the rest, sought somesecure retreat. Catesby ran towards Chancery-lane, and passing through anarrow alley, entered the large gardens which then lay between thisthoroughfare and Fetter-lane. Listening to hear whether he was pursued,and finding nothing to alarm him, he threw himself on the sod beneath atree, and was lost in painful reflection.
"All my fair schemes are marred by that traitor, Tresham," he muttered."I could forgive myself for being duped by him, if I had slain him whenhe was in my power. But that he should escape to exult in our ruin, andreap the reward of his perfidy, afflicts me even more than failure."
Tortured by thoughts like these, and in vain endeavouring to snatch suchbrief repose as would fit him for the fatigue he might have to endure onthe morrow, he did not quit his position till late in the morning of adull November day--it was, as will be recollected, the memorableFifth--had arrived.
He then arose, and slouching his hat, and wrapping his cloak around him,shaped his course towards Fleet-street. From the knots of personsgathered together at different corners,--from their muttered discourseand mysterious looks, as well as from the general excitement thatprevailed,--he felt sure that some rumour of the plot had gone abroad.Shunning observation as much as he could, he entered a small tavern nearFleet Bridge, and called for a flask of wine and some food. Whilediscussing these, he was attracted by the discourse of the landlord, whowas conversing with his guests about the conspiracy.
"I hear that all the Papists are to be hanged, drawn, and quartered,"cried the host; "and if it be true, as I have heard, that this plot istheir contrivance, they deserve it. I hope I have no believer in thatfaith--no recusant in my house."
"Don't insult us by any such suspicion," cried one of the guests. "Weare all loyal men--all good Protestants."
"Do you know whether the conspirators have been discovered, sir?" askedthe host of Catesby.
"I do not even know of the plot," replied the other. "What was itsobject?"
"What was its object!" cried the host. "You will scarcely credit me whenI tell you. I tremble to speak of it. Its object was to blow up theParliament House, and the King and all the nobles and prelates of theland al
ong with it."
"Horrible!" exclaimed the guests.
"But how do you know it is a scheme of the Papists?" asked Catesby.
"Because I have been told so," rejoined the host. "But who else coulddevise such a monstrous plan? It would never enter into the head orheart of a Protestant to conceive so detestable an action. We love ourKing too well for that, and would shed the last drop of our blood ratherthan a hair of his head should be injured. But these priest-riddenPapists think otherwise. They regard him as a usurper; and havingreceived a dispensation from the Pope to that effect, fancy it would bea pious act to remove him. There will be no tranquillity in the kingdomwhile one of them is left alive; and I hope his Majesty will takeadvantage of the present ferment to order a general massacre of them,like that of the poor Protestants on Saint Bartholomew's day in Paris."
"Ay,--massacre them," cried the guests; "that's the way. Burn theirhouses and cut their throats. Will it be lawful to do so without furtherauthority, mine host? If so, we will set about it immediately."
"I cannot resolve you on that point," replied the landlord. "You hadbetter wait a short time. I dare say their slaughter will be publiclycommanded."
"Heaven grant it may be so!" cried one of the guests. "I will bear mypart in the business."
Catesby arose, paid his reckoning, and strode out of the tavern.
"Do you know, mine host," said the guest who had last spoken, "I halfsuspect that tall fellow, who has just left us, is a Papist."
"Perhaps a conspirator," said another.
"Let us watch him," cried a third.
"Stay," cried the host, "he has paid me double my reckoning. I believehim to be an honest man and a good Protestant."
"What you say confirms my suspicions," rejoined the first speaker. "Wewill follow him."
On reaching Temple Bar, Catesby found the gates closed, and a guardstationed at them,--no one being allowed to pass through withoutexamination. Not willing to expose himself to this scrutiny, Catesbyturned away, and in doing so, perceived three of the persons he had justleft in the tavern. The expression of their countenances satisfied himthey were dogging him; but affecting not to perceive it, he retraced hissteps, gradually quickening his pace until he reached a narrow streetleading into Whitefriars, down which he darted. The moment his pursuerssaw this, they hurried after him, shouting, "A Papist--a Papist!--aconspirator!"
But Catesby was now safe. Claiming the protection of certain Alsatianswho were lounging at the door of a tavern, and offering to reward them,they instantly drew their swords, and drove the others away, whileCatesby, tossing a few pieces of money to his preservers, passed througha small doorway into the Temple, and making the best of his way to thestairs, leaped into a boat, and ordered the waterman to row toWestminster. The man obeyed, and plying his oars, soon gained the middleof the stream. Little way, however, had been made, when Catesby descrieda large wherry, manned by several rowers, swiftly approaching them, andinstinctively comprehending whom it contained, ordered the man to reston his oars till it had passed.
In a few moments the wherry approached them. It was filled withserjeants of the guard and halberdiers, in the midst of whom sat GuyFawkes. Catesby could not resist the impulse that prompted him to rise,and the movement attracted the attention of the prisoner. The momentaryglance they exchanged convinced Catesby that Fawkes perceived him,though his motionless features gave no token of recognition, and heimmediately afterwards fixed his eyes towards heaven, as if tointimate,--at least Catesby so construed the gesture,--that his earthlycareer was well-nigh ended. Heaving a deep sigh, Catesby watched thewherry sweep on towards the Tower,--its fatal destination,--until it waslost to view.
"All is over, I fear, with the bravest of our band," he thought, as hetracked its course; "but some effort must be made to save him. At allevents, we will die sword in hand, and like soldiers, and not as commonmalefactors."
Abandoning his intention of proceeding to Westminster, he desired theman to pull ashore, and landing at Arundel Stairs, hastened to theStrand. Here he found large crowds collected, the shops closed, andbusiness completely at a stand. Nothing was talked of but theconspiracy, and the most exaggerated and extraordinary accounts of itwere circulated and believed. Some would have it that the ParliamentHouse was already blown up, and that the city of London itself had beenset fire to in several places by the Papists. It was also stated thatnumerous arrests had taken place, and it was certain that the houses ofseveral Catholic nobles and wealthy gentlemen had been searched. To sucha height was the popular indignation raised, that it required the utmostefforts of the soldiery to prevent the mob from breaking into thesehouses, and using violence towards their inmates.
Every gate and avenue to the palace was strictly guarded, and troops ofhorse were continually scouring the streets. Sentinels were placedbefore suspected houses, and no one was suffered to enter them, or to goforth without special permission. Detachments of soldiery were alsostationed at the end of all the main thoroughfares. Bars were thrownacross the smaller streets and outlets, and proclamation was made thatno one was to quit the city, however urgent his business, for threedays.
On hearing this announcement, Catesby saw at once that if he did noteffect his escape immediately, it would be impracticable. Accordingly,he hurried towards Charing-cross, and turning up St. Martin's-lane, atthe back of the King's Mews, contrived to elude the vigilance of theguard, and speeded along the lane,--for it was then literally so, andsurrounded on either side by high hedges,--until he came to St.Giles's,--at this time nothing more than a few scattered houses,intermixed with trees. Here he encountered a man mounted on a powerfulsteed, and seeing this person look hard at him, would have drawn out ofthe way, if the other had not addressed him by name. He then regardedthe equestrian more narrowly, and found it was Martin Heydocke.
"I have heard what has happened, Mr. Catesby," said Martin, "and canimagine the desperate strait in which you must be placed. Take myhorse,--it may aid your flight. I was sent to London by my master, Mr.Humphrey Chetham, to bring him intelligence of the result of yourattempt, and I am sure I am acting in accordance with his wishes inrendering you such a service. At all events, I will risk it. Mount,sir,--mount, and make the best of your way hence."
Catesby needed no further exhortation, but, springing into the saddle,hastily murmured his thanks, and striking into a lane on the right, rodeoff at a swift pace towards Highgate.
On reaching the brow of this beautiful hill, he drew in the bridle for amoment, and gazed towards the city he had just quitted. Dark and bitterwere his thoughts as he fixed his eye upon Westminster Abbey, andfancied he could discern the neighbouring pile, whose destruction he hadmeditated. Remembering that from this very spot, when he had lastapproached the capital, in company with Guy Fawkes and VivianaRadcliffe, he had looked in the same direction, he could not helpcontrasting his present sensations with those he had then experienced.At that time he was full of ardour, and confident of success. Now, allwas lost to him, and he was anxious for little more thanself-preservation. Involuntarily, his eye wandered along the great city,until passing over the mighty fabric of Saint Paul's, it settled uponthe Tower,--upon the place of Guy Fawkes's captivity.
"And can nothing be done for his deliverance?" sighed Catesby, as heturned away, his eyes filling with moisture "must that brave soldier diethe death of a felon--must he be subjected to the torture--horror! If hehad died defending himself, I should scarcely have pitied him. And if hehad destroyed himself, together with his foes, as he resolved to do, Ishould have envied him. But the idea of what he will have to suffer inthat dreadful place--nay, what he is now, perhaps, suffering--makes thelife-blood curdle in my veins. I will never fall alive into theirhands."
With this resolve, he struck spurs into his steed, and, urging him to aswift pace, dashed rapidly forward. He had ridden more than a mile, whenhearing shouts behind him, he perceived two troopers galloping after himas fast as their horses could carry them. They shouted to him to stay,and as they were b
etter mounted than he was, it was evident they wouldsoon come up with him. Determined, however, to adhere to the resolutionhe had just formed, and not to yield himself with life, he prepared fora conflict, and suddenly halting, he concealed a petronel beneath hiscloak, and waited till his foes drew near.
"I command you, in the King's name, to surrender," said the foremosttrooper, riding up. "You are a rebel and a traitor."
"Be this my answer," replied Catesby, aiming at the man, and firing withsuch certainty, that he fell from his horse mortally wounded.Unsheathing his sword, he then prepared to attack the other trooper.But, terrified at the fate of his comrade, the man turned his horse'shead, and rode off.
Without bestowing a thought on the dying man who lay groaning in themire, Catesby caught hold of the bridle of his horse, and satisfied thatthe animal was better than his own, mounted him, and proceeded at thesame headlong pace as before.
In a short time he reached Finchley, where several persons rushed fromtheir dwellings to inquire whether he brought any intelligence of theplot, rumours of which had already reached them. Without stopping,Catesby replied that most important discoveries had been made, and thathe was carrying despatches from the King to Northampton. No oppositionwas therefore offered him, and he soon left all traces of habitationbehind him. Urging his horse to its utmost, he arrived, in less than aquarter of an hour, at Chipping Barnet. Here the same inquiries weremade as at Finchley, and returning the same answer--for he never relaxedhis speed for a moment--he pursued his course.
In less than three quarters of an hour after this, he arrived at SaintAlbans, and proceeding direct to the post-house, asked for a horse. Butinstead of complying with the request, the landlord of the Rose andCrown--such was the name of the hostel--instantly withdrew, and returnedthe next moment with an officer, who desired to speak with Catesbybefore he proceeded further. The latter, however, took no notice of thedemand, but rode off.
The clatter of horses' hoofs behind him soon convinced him he was againpursued, and he was just beginning to consider in what way he shouldmake a second defence, when he observed two horsemen cross a lane on theleft, and make for the main road. His situation now appeared highlyperilous, especially as his pursuers, who had noticed the other horsemenat the same time as himself, shouted to them. But he was speedilyrelieved. These persons, instead of stopping, accelerated their pace,and appeared as anxious as he was to avoid those behind him.
They were now within a short distance of Dunstable, and were ascendingthe lovely downs which lie on the London side of this ancient town, whenone of the horsemen in front chancing to turn round, Catesby perceivedit was Rookwood. Overjoyed at the discovery, he shouted to him at thetop of his voice, and the other, who it presently appeared wasaccompanied by Keyes, instantly stopped. In a few seconds Catesby was bytheir side, and a rapid explanation taking place, they all three drew upin order of battle.
By this time their pursuers had arrived within a hundred yards of them,and seeing how matters stood, and not willing to hazard an engagement,after a brief consultation, retired. The three friends then pursuedtheir route, passed through Dunstable, and without pausing a moment onthe road, soon neared Fenny Stratford. Just before they arrived at thisplace, Catesby's horse fell from exhaustion. Instantly extricatinghimself from the fallen animal, he ran by the side of his companionstill they got to the town, where Rookwood, who had placed relays on theroad, changed his horse, and the others were fortunate enough to procurefresh steeds.
Proceeding with unabated impetuosity, they soon cleared a few moremiles, and had just left Stony Stratford behind them, when they overtooka solitary horseman, who proved to be John Wright, and a little furtheron they came up with Percy, and Christopher Wright.
Though their numbers were thus increased, they did not considerthemselves secure, but flinging their cloaks away to enable them toproceed with greater expedition, hurried on to Towcester. Here Keyesquitted his companions, and shaped his course into Warwickshire, wherehe was afterwards taken, while the others, having procured fresh horses,made the best of their way to Ashby Saint Leger's.
About six o'clock, Catesby and his companions arrived at his old familyseat, which he had expected to approach in triumph, but which he nowapproached with feelings of the deepest mortification anddisappointment. They found the house filled with guests--among whom wasRobert Winter--who were just sitting down to supper. Catesby rushed intothe room in which these persons were assembled, covered with mud anddirt, his haggard looks and dejected appearance proclaiming that hisproject had failed. His friends followed, and their appearance confirmedthe impression that he had produced. Lady Catesby hastened to her son,and strove to comfort him; but he rudely repulsed her.
"What is the matter?" she anxiously inquired.
"What is the matter!" cried Catesby, in a furious tone, and stamping hisfoot to the ground. "All is lost! our scheme is discovered; Guy Fawkesis a prisoner, and ere long we shall all be led to the block. Yes, all!"he repeated, gazing sternly around.
"I will never be led thither with life," said Robert Winter.
"Nor I," added a young Catholic gentleman, named Acton of Ribbesford,who had lately joined the conspiracy. "Though the great design hasfailed, we are yet free, and have swords to draw, and arms to wieldthem."
"Ay," exclaimed Robert Winter, "all our friends are assembled atDunchurch. Let us join them instantly, and we may yet stir up arebellion which may accomplish all we can desire. I, myself, accompaniedHumphrey Littleton to Dunchurch this morning, and know we shall findeverything in readiness."
"Do not despair," cried Lady Catesby; "all will yet be well. Everymember of our faith will join you, and you will soon muster a formidablearmy."
"We must not yield without a blow," cried Percy, pouring out a bumper ofwine, and swallowing it at a draught.
"You are right," said Rookwood, imitating his example. "We will sell ourlives dearly."
"If you will adhere to this resolution, gentlemen," rejoined Catesby,"we may yet retrieve our loss. With five hundred stanch followers, whowill stand by me to the last, I will engage to raise such a rebellion inEngland as shall not be checked, except by the acknowledgment of ourrights, or the dethronement of the king."
"We will all stand by you," cried the others.
"Swear it," cried Catesby, raising the glass to his lips.
"We do," was the reply.
"Wearied as we are," cried Catesby, "we must at once proceed toDunchurch, and urge our friends to rise in arms with us."
"Agreed," cried the others.
Summoning all his household, and arming them, Catesby then set out withthe rest for Dunchurch, which lay about five miles from Ashby SaintLeger's. They arrived there in about three quarters of an hour, andfound the mansion crowded with Catholic gentlemen and their servants.Entering the banquet hall, they found Sir Everard Digby at the head ofthe board, with Garnet on his right hand. Upwards of sixty persons wereseated at the table. Their arrival was greeted with loud shouts, andseveral of the guests drew their swords and flourished them over theirheads.
"What news?" cried Sir Everard Digby. "Is the blow struck?"
"No," replied Catesby; "we have been betrayed."
A deep silence prevailed. A change came over the countenances of theguests. Significant glances were exchanged, and it was evident thatgeneral uneasiness prevailed.
"What is to be done?" cried Sir Everard Digby, after a pause.
"Our course is clear," returned Catesby. "We must stand by each other.In that case, we have nothing to fear, and shall accomplish our purpose,though not in the way originally intended."
"I will have nothing further to do with the matter," said Sir RobertDigby of Coleshill, Sir Everard's uncle. And rising, he quitted the roomwith several of his followers, while his example was imitated byHumphrey Littleton and others.
"All chance for the restoration of our faith in England is over,"observed Garnet, in a tone of despondency.
"Not so, father," replied Catesby, "if we are tru
e to each other. Myfriends," he cried, stopping those who were about to depart, "in thename of our holy religion I beseech you to pause. Much is against usnow. But let us hold together, and all will speedily be righted. EveryCatholic in this county, in Cheshire, in Lancashire, and Wales, mustflock to our standard when it is once displayed--do not desert us--donot desert yourselves--for our cause is your cause. I have a large forceat my command; so has Sir Everard Digby, and together we can musternearly five hundred adherents. With these, we can offer such a stand aswill enable as to make conditions with our opponents, or even to engagewith them with a reasonable prospect of success. I am well assured,moreover, if we lose no time, but proceed to the houses of our friends,we shall have a large army with us. Do not fall off, then. On youdepends our success."
This address was followed by loud acclamations; and all who heard itagreed to stand by the cause in which they had embarked to the last.
As Catesby left the banqueting-hall with Sir Everard, to makepreparations for their departure, they met Viviana and a femaleattendant.
"I hear the enterprise has failed," she cried, in a voice suffocated byemotion. "What has happened to my husband? Is he safe? Is he with you?"
"Alas! no," replied Catesby; "he is a prisoner."
Viviana uttered a cry of anguish, and fell senseless into the arms ofthe attendant.