His CLOAK TIGHT around him against the chill November drizzle, George Heriot presented himself at the gatehouse of Whitehall Palace, and waited while it was checked whether he should be admitted or not-for, unlike the Queen's Somerset House where almost anyone could walk in and out, entry here was strictly controlled. It was an odd time for an urgent summons to the presence-just before three in the afternoon-for when he was not out hunting, the King liked to take a nap after his midday meal. It was scarcely his time for discussing money matters or ordering jewellery. The Duke of Lennox himself came down to the gatehouse to conduct his friend to the King. "A strange business, Geordie," he declared. "Some sort of conspiracy, it seems. To do with the Catholics again. Thank God our slippery Patrick Gray does not seem as yet to have a hand in this one-there seems to be no connection with Scotland. James has a letter-very mysterious, just after his own heart I Whether there is any truth in it is another matter."
"But what is this to do with me? Why bring me hurrying from the Exchange? I am no plot-breaker-as the King has not failed to tell me 1"
"There is talk of money-much money. It is seemingly a large matter-no more plot but a great conspiracy. Or so Cecil thinks…"
"Cecil? Is he in this? Then it becomes serious, one way or the other! Serious for somebody "
"No doubt The Catholics, I would think. Such as we all were, not so long ago!"
Heriot looked at the other quickly. The Duke's sister, the Lady Hetty of Huntly, was a fervent Catholic, as had been his father-as had been most fathers, indeed, with the Reformation not more than fifty years old, in Scotland at least Until the age of thirteen Ludovick had been brought up in Catholic France, then taken to Scotland and put largely in the care of the Master of Gray- whose Protestantism was notoriously of the suspect sort In theory, the Duke was firmly in the Protestant camp; but in fact…? Heriot believed that a man's religion was his own business; but in a situation such as this it was wise to tread warily.
There was no time to pursue their discussion. Past the Yeomen on duty they came to the King's own bedchamber. In the anteroom thereof they found James, in a bed-robe but wearing his hat; Cecil, recently promoted, once more, to be Earl of Salisbury; the youngish Howard, Earl of Suffolk, Lord Chamberlain; and a tall, thin, dark man whom Heriot knew to be the Lord Monteagle, a moderate Catholic peer. The King was sitting at a table, poring over a letter, Cecil was watching him tight-lipped, Suffolk looking bored and William Parker, Lord Monteagle, distinctly agitated and unhappy, all standing.
"Ha, Geordie," James cried, "Here, man, and cast your eye ower this. Here is a letter. Sent to the Lord Monteagle. A fell strange letter. Warning him o' danger. Frae hi men, gey ill. Wicked treasons. Danger to my royal person. Aye, and to this parliament I'm to open the morn. You've a guid canny heid on your shoulders, Geordie. What d'you mak o' it?"
Heriot took the paper, and scanned the ill-spelled epistle, watched by the others, Salisbury and Suffolk with ill-concealed impatience and disapproval at this waste of their time over a mere tradesman's views, however wealthy he might be. My lord-out of the love i beare to some of youer friends, i have a caer of youer preservation, therefor i would advyse yowe as yowe tender youer lyft, to devyse some exscuse to shift of youer attendance at this parliament, for God and man hathe concurred to punish the wickednes of this tyme, and think not slightlye of this advertisement, but retyere youre self into youre countrie wheare yowe maye expect the event in safti, for thowghe theare be no apparance of anni stir, yet i say they shall receyve a terrible blowe this parleament, and yet they shall not seie who hurts them; this councel is not to be contemned, because it maye do yoew good, and can do yowe no harme, for the danger is past as soon as yowe have burnt the letter, and i hope God will give yowe the grace to make good use of it, to whose holy protection i commend yowe.
Heriot looked up, smoothing mouth and small beard. "A very curious document, She," he commented slowly, thoughtfully. "Which presents more questions than it answers. Wicked, shameful-but curious." "We discovered that for ourselves, man!" Cecil said testily.
"Let him be, my lord," the King observed, raising a grimy finger. "Geordie Heriot's no' a new-made earl! Nor yet slightly aulder one!" Suffolk although a son of the former Duke of Norfolk, had only been created earl in 1603. "But he's got mair siller to jingle in his pouch than the twa 0' you together, I vow! And he's no' made a' that by failing to ken what's what! He kens how mony maks four, does Geordie Heriot! And he has a quick eye. Well, Geordie-what say you? These questions?"
"I take it, She, that this is warning of the threat of an attack upon yourself at the opening of parliament tomorrow? But more than yourself-the entire parliament in assembly. The writer does not mention Your Majesty-but if the whole of parliament is threatened, it can only be when both houses are together assembled, in the Lords' chamber. For the opening. When you and Her Majesty and the Prince are present An attack on the King in parliament all but takes the breath away! The first question then, is-is this to be taken as serious? Or is it some folly, some prank? Or the work of someone light in his wits? "
"Think you that such as ourselves would be here, sir, troubling His Majesty, if we did not conceive it serious?" Suffolk demanded.
"As to that, my lord, I know not But I agree that it probably should be taken as serious. Any prankster, hoaxer or scatterpate would, I think, have used names, the King's or others. Where he aims his threats. This does not Moreover, he says to burn the letter. Were it a hoax, would he not rather wish many to read it? Else his satisfaction is limited to cozening one man only-my Lord Monteagle."
"I hadna thought o' that," James admitted. "I daresay you're right. But that's no' important since we're taking it fell seriously onyway. But what d'you think o' the matter itself, man. The threat? Quiet, my lords-I wish to hear Master Geordie's ain impressions."
Glancing at the letter again, Heriot put his finger on a line midway. 'These words, Sire, seem to me of the most import'… they shall not see who hurts them.' To threaten an entire parliament with destruction, and then to say that they shall not see who hurts them, seems to rule out armed attack, many men making assault Some cataclysm, then-devastation. Fire, perhaps. To burn down the House of Lords. Or smoke, suffocation…"
"Or gunpowder, man-gunpowder!" James could not hold back his own theory. He slapped his bare knee excitedly. "Man-your mind works the same way as my ain! I was telling these lords- only gunpowder would serve. To destroy all, so that nane kenned what slew them. I say it’s gunpowder."
'Your Majesty may recollect that I also mentioned gunpowder amongst the possibilities," Cecil put in stiffly.
James ignored that, "Man-think o' it! In one michty displosion and discharge, to dispose o' the entire realm-or a' that matters in the realm. King, Queen, heir to the throne, great officers o' state, ambassadors, bishops, Privy Council, judges, lords and commons. Waesucks-what a contrive! What an excogitation! Worthy o' the mind o' auld Satan himself!" Quite carried away by the magnificence, enormity and comprehensive scope of the entire conception, Majesty gobbled, goggled and dripped saliva.
"It would require a deal of gunpowder," the practical Lennox remarked, "to bring down the whole House of Lords. It would not serve to bring down only part. And it is costly stuff. Even one barrel costs a deal of money. As Admiral, in Scotland, I know."
"That is one reason why I brought Geordie in. My lords, here, compute that it would tak maybe a score o' barrels o' powder to blow up yon building-more, belike. And to move so much through the city wouldna be easy, unkenned. It would hae to be by boat, I'm saying. A ship in the Thames. A' this means much siller. Who has that much siller-who would wish to do the likes o' this? Catholics? It's the sort o' ploy yon man Raleigh might devise. And he has the money. But he's safe lockit up in the Tower." "You are sure that it is a Catholic plot, She? "
"Who else? My Lord Monteagle, here, is a Catholic-forby a leal one and he believes it so. What other party would wish to get rid o' the entire rule, rule, in Crown, Church and State, this way? Eh, Monteagle, man?"
"I fear that it must be so, Sire," the tall, thin individual acceded unhappily. "Else why warn myself?"
"Do you know that you are the only one to be warned, my lord?" Heriot asked. "That was the third of my questions." The other eyed him quickly. "What do you mean, sir?"
"Merely that you are not the only Catholic peer, my lord. There are many. Someone in the plot has sent you this letter, because they say they love you and do not wish you to die in the holocaust. You may, or may not, have a notion who the writer might be. But surely it is conceivable that other plotters-or the same man, indeed-may wish to save some other Catholics also? Members of both Houses, perhaps. So there may be other letters. Or if not letters, other warnings. Such as might tell us more."
"Sakes, Geordie-you have a point there. Cecil, man-you should ha' thought o' that."
"It had indeed occurred to me, She, But I did not see that it would take us greatly forward."
"It might, my lord," Heriot asserted. "A swift enquiry amongst Catholic lords and Members…"
"We do not want this trouble bruited abroad, Master Heriot The fewer who know, the better. It is not good for His Majesty's name and repute that any should consider such outrage. Moreover, we do not know, as yet, that there is any truth in it"
"But you believe there is. And must act for the King's safety. Surely certain Catholic noblemen can be approached secretly? This day. If there is naught in it, they will scarcely spread the rumour, to the hurt of their own people?"
"Geordie's right," the King declared. "And we've no' that long to act Hae you anyone in mind, man? In especial? "
"I thought of the young Earl of Arundel, Sire. Kinsman of my lord Earl of Suffolk, here. He is only a youth, too young to take his seat in the Lords-but he will be at the opening ceremony, will he not? He is the head of your great family of Howard, is he not, my lord? Who would be Duke of Norfolk and Earl Marshal of England were it not for the forfeiture of his late father, your brother? Surely Catholic conspirators would not wish to destroy the highest-born Catholic in England? "
Suffolk looked uncomfortable. His own Protestantism was undoubtedly political rather than of conviction. "If my nephew had received such a letter, be sure that he would have brought it to me, sirrah. Or to the Lord Admiral. Or to Northampton."
"He might not. He might be too frightened. Or believed it but a jest. Not understanding the importance of it. It would be worth asking."
"It would so," the King decided. "See you to it, Suffolk. Anything else, Geordie?"
"You mentioned ambassadors, Majesty-when you spoke of those who would be destroyed if-and God forbid-this evil conspiracy had not come to light But surely the last thing that Catholic rebels would wish would be to slay the ambassadors of the Catholic states-the Vatican, Spain and France, Venice and the rest. It would be of interest to know whether they have been warned not to attend."
"Well thought on. We'll find out frae Don Juan. He's right friendly wi' my Annie-she's even given him a bit wing in her Somerset House. Vicky-can you make shift to find out if the Spanish ambassador will be going to the opening the morn? As invited."
"Sire, I would strongly advise care in this matter of ambassadors," Cecil put in. "Such cannot be questioned as can other men. Moreover, we want no alarming messages sent to Madrid or Rome or Paris, declaring England to be in a state of revolt, and Catholics ready to destroy the realm. I crave your royal leave to attend to this of the ambassadors myself."
"He doesna trust you, Vicky I But-as you will. So long as it is done."
"A further matter, Sire. Although no doubt my lord of Salisbury has already thought of it also I" Heriot said. "As well as the question of the cost and bulk of sufficient gunpowder, there is that of where it would, or could, be bestowed. Without being seen. Difficult, I would think."
"I have indeed thought of it," the Secretary said. "Nor would it be so difficult. There are many cellars under the House of Lords." "You'll hae to search them, man. Instanter."
"With your permission, Sire, any such search should be postponed for as long as possible. So that the dastards do not take fright. We want to catch them-not merely frighten them off, to make their wicked attempt on some other occasion. We must capture some of them. To put to the question. For this conspiracy must have wide ramifications. If these assassins intend to blow up the King, parliament and government, they must have plans for taking over the rule of the realm thereafter. It does not end but only begins, with the gunpowder, or other means. I believe that there must be a great many involved. Men of note and riches, prepared to govern. Otherwise all is a foolishness."
"Aye-the mind which conceived this satanic ploy, to destroy a' at one fell blast, wouldna fail to think on what would hae to follow," fames nodded. "Much will hae to be wheasled oot Aye, it's right diabolical to think on such base ingratitude and unkind-ness to their sovereign lord-waesucks, it is. You'll need to catch some o' them, to question, right enough. Maist severely. Nae-thing's ower bad for the likes o' these." "Agreed, Sire. Therefore they must not take fright and abandon all. Disperse before we can lay hands on them."
"But we havena long, Cecil man. Only the night The morn's the opening."
"We have twenty hours, Majesty. Much may be done in that time-and we have much to do. I suggest that we waste no more time in talk. That knowing, or at least conjecturing, what we do, we each now go our several ways, and make all enquiries that we may. In discretion and circumspection, I must insist" Salisbury looked pointedly at Heriot whom obviously he considered quite unfit to be mixed up in anything so delicate and important "No alarm must reach the conspirators. We should reassemble, to report to Your Majesty, and further discuss the situation-or such of us as have any true contribution to make-in, say four hours. Shall we make it seven o' the clock, Sire?"
'That sounds right enough. But can you find oot that much in four hours?" "I think that we can, yes."
"Aye, you're a right beagle, man, once on the scent! Off wi' you, then. Vicky-go you wi' Geordie Heriot In case he needs authority-aye, my royal authority, to mak ony investigation he thinks fit Find oot Geordie, if you can, if ony Catholics o' means and substance hae been borrowing money, or pawning or selling jewellery or plate. Aye, and hiring shipping. Find who sells gunpowder, and who they've been selling it to. You can mak siclike enquiries a deal better and mair quietly than these lords amongst your city acquaintance" "Shall I search the cellars of the House of Lords?" Suffolk asked.
"Not yet," Cecil said. "Too soon. Wait until we next assemble. Monteagle, you will know well many Catholic lords and gentlemen. Find out what they know. You can, h'm, remind them discreetly that their heads may be at stake, in this! Here is opportunity to make proof of their loyalty." Unhappily Monteagle nodded.
Four hours later they were all back in Whitehall Palace, with an addition-Sir Thomas Knevett magistrate responsible for this section of Westarinster. The King was as eager and impatient as a schoolboy with a new game.
"Well?" he demanded. "What have you discovered? A’ the pack o' you. Out with it. What's new? Monteagle-you first."
"I have learned but little, Sire. Not for want of will, I assure Your Majesty. I have found only the one other who has been warned not to attend the opening. My own brother-in-law, the Lord Stourton. But not warned by letter. Only by a message. Spoken to his manservant. By a stranger, he says. In the street. The message only that if he valued his life, he would not go to the House of Lords tomorrow."
"Stranger? What sort o' stranger? Complete strangers dinna gie that sort o' warning to lords' servants and expect to be heeded, man."
"I know not, Sire. Stourton said that his servant had never seen the man before. He was waiting outside his lodging…"
"It seems at least as though the stranger had an especial love for your family, my lord 1" Cecil put in dryly. "Interesting."
"More than interesting," Lennox added. "Four Stourton's name came up in our investigations, likewise. Eh, Geordie."
"Only indirectly," that careful man pointed out. "His name given only as a reference. We were seeking the identities of any Catholic borrowers of moneys, or large sellers of goods, as Your Majesty suggested. There were none in my books, of any significance. None that I know to be Catholics. Then we went to my fellow money-lender and jeweller, Sir William Herrick, who was also the late Queen's goldsmith. He had received, in pawn, almost a year ago, considerable plate. On which he had advanced three thousand pounds. Two thousand pounds to one party and one thousand pounds to another-both known Catholics. The first was Mr. Francis Tresham, who gave the name of Lord Stourton for his security. The second was Sir Everard Digby. The pawnings were within a week of each other." The quick indrawing of three different breaths, at the enunciation of these names, clearly was significant The King looked round them all. "Well, my lords-what o' it?" Monteagle moistened his lips. "Francis Tresham, Sire, is also my brother-in-law. His two sisters are wed to myself and Stourton." "Ha! You say so? Now we could be moving!" "Further, to which, She, Tresham was involved in Essex's rebellion," Cecil put in. "He is a plotter. Moreover his father, Sir Thomas Tresham, is well known as a man aggrieved, much fined for recusancy in the late Queen's day." "Aye-so they hae a grudge against the Crown. We progress. And you, Suffolk? Hae you no' something to tell us?"
"Only, Majesty, that my nephew Arundel had been asked if he was to attend the parliament opening-asked, that is all. He had said no-for he has a distemper of the bladder, it seems. He is a sickly youth, as you know. It was Sir Everard Digby who asked him!" "So-o-o! Digby, eh? He's o' a namely family. Is that a', man?" "Yes. When Arundel said that he would not be going, Digby said no more. It may mean nothing." "It's fell coincidental. By ordinar!"
"There is another matter, She. Relating to Tresham, not Digby," Heriot mentioned. "A month ago, Tresham hired a three-masted barque from Ebenezer Willison, trader, of Duck Wharf. It was said to be for trading to the Low Countries. But it is still lying in the Thames."
"Did I no' tell you!" James crowed. "This Tresham is in it deep as the neck. Aye-we'll hae him talking. And then dangling on the end o' a rope! Aught else, Geordie?"
"No, She. Save for one small matter perhaps. Amongst the plate pawned by Tresham was some engraved with the arms of Catesby -or so says Herrick. It need not signify."
"Sir William Catesby is a kinsman of Tresham's," Monteagle observed.
"And was also in the Essex business," Cecil added. "He has a wild son, Robert, who has been in some trouble." He cleared his throat "You have done well, Master Heriot." That was scarcely warm, but it was a major acknowledgment
"I told you Geordie kens what's what," the King said, beaming. "What o' yoursel', my lord? Did you no' discover aught?" "Little to the point, She. Save that the Earl of Northumberland had been advised by his kinsman and steward, one Thomas Percy, against attending the opening. Strangely, on the grounds that he might be put to the question, at the parliament, by your royal self, She, regarding your Commission of Ten, sent up to settle the problem of the Border disputes. Presumably the Percys have uneasy consciences over the Borderland situation!"
"That I can believe! And you reckon this nothing to the point? A different matter, forby?"
"I would not like to say, for sure. Northumberland is not a Catholic-or not a known one! But this Thomas Percy may be, and in the plot. And wishes to save his chief. So tells this story. I have not had time yet to enquire as to his religion. But he is a gentleman-pensioner of your own, with duties around this palace."
"You say so? Waesucks- we're getting a wheen names now. Aye, plenties. What o' the ambassadors, man?"
"It was there that I wasted most of my time, Majesty. At Somerset House, with Don Juan de Tassos. It seems that he has' not been warned. Nor has the Pope's envoy. Both declare that they are coming to tomorrow's ceremony. So the plotters, it seems, are not depending on foreign aid. Or greatly concerned for the envoys. Which makes me wonder, She. Gives me cause for some doubts."
"Doubts, man? At this hour? After a' that's been uncovered. What mair do you want?" "It is still so much supposition, Your Majesty. A tall structure, yes-but built on but scanty foundations. A plot there probably is. But whether it is to blow up the House of Lords, or no, is but conjecture." "Then put it to the test, man. Arrest a' these named men forthwith-Tresham, Digby, Catesby, Percy. For questioning. I wager we'll soon find out what they ken. Bring them before me. If they ken anything, I'll mak them talk! And I'll swear yon Tresham kens something." "Too soon, She. We must have something to confront them with. More than conjectures. Some fact" "These cellars? Under the House of Lords?" Heriot said. "They seem the likeliest place to put gunpowder. You could search these. If there is nothing there, we must consider further. But if there is…" "Exactly," James agreed.
"Dangerous," Cecil objected. "In that they might take fright. Believe that all was discovered, and flee. The main plotters. Be sure these will not all be biding in some cellar under Westminster! And it is the leaders we want"
Suffolk spoke. "See you, it is my duty as Chamberlain and acting Earl Marshal, to ensure the proper ordering of parliaments. To arrange all ceremony. I could make a round of inspection of the buildings. Alone, or with an officer. Look into the cellars in the by-going. None could take fright from that It is my simple duty." "What if you stumble on them? The conspirators?"
"I must needs ask them what they do there. They will have some story to tell, for sure. If I can, I must seem to believe it And leave. Pass on, without affrighting them. To give you time to make the arrests…"
"I still do not like it If I were one of these men-which God forbid-I would then conceive all lost They might even seek to slay you, Suffolk!"
"Not so. Slay the Lord Chamberlain, knowing that I would be missed immediately? Search be made for me, and all discovered? All thrown away. No, no."
"Why not take the Lord Monteagle with you, my lord?" Heriot suggested. "Since he is a Catholic. His presence with you might soothe the conspirators' fears-if you find any."
"A right guid notion, Geordie. That's it, Suffolk, you and Monteagle go. Forthwith, aye. We've wasted time enough. Be expeditious about it, mind-we've no' that long to act And back here wi' your report We'll hae a bit refreshment while you're awa'."
"If you will permit my withdrawal-I will make certain arrangements," Salisbury said, "whilst we wait Alert certain, er, henchmen of mine. And some of the Guard. To be prepared to make arrests. So that no time is lost"
"Aye, Cecil-off wi' you. And you, Knevett, go wi' him. Be back within the hour…"
The three Scots left in the anteroom considered each other. James winked heavily.
"We could ha' dealt wi' this fine and well, lacking them a'!" he said, confidentially. "They need it a' spelled out for them! Whereas dictum saptenti sat est! But in England we maun humour the English! Och, but they can be wearisome stiff. That's the worst o' them, I do declare. Stiffness. Cast-iron. Mysel', I like a bit quick-silver. Like we hae in Scotland."
"Such as the Master of Gray?" Lennox enquired, smiling.
"Even so, Vicky. Even in roguery there's lightsome ways o' doing things. I miss it-aye, I miss it"
"I doubt if even the Master of Gray would have considered blowing up King, parliament and everyone in authority, men, women and children, with gunpowder " Heriot observed. "If this is indeed the facts of it She-there is one point which troubles me stilL This of Tresham and Digby-that money they gained by the pawning. This was done a full year ago. The plate has not been redeemed, admittedly-but a year ago. If it had been a month, two months even…"
"That's nae difficulty, Geordie," the King assured. "The plot could ha' been a year back, just as well as today. The parliament was to ha' been a year ago. But I put off the opening for six months-and then another six. Och, they'll no' gie me my money. Nor yet will they agree my terms for the uniting o' the kingdoms. They're fell obstinate-right contumacious. The Commons. They canna meet forby I summon them So I've been teaching them a lesson, aye. Now, I need them to pass these laws I've made for a regulation o' the Borders. You ken-to bring to an end a' the strife and rieving and feuding and moss-trooping. I'll no' have it, in my united kingdom o' Britain I've sent up this Commission o' Ten, to do the work, half Scots, half English, But it will cost money-grants-in-aid, compensation, bounties. And that means parliament's approval, God damn them! So-I open parliament the morn," James got to his feet "But-come you into my bit cabinet. There's cauld meats and wine. As well be comfortable while we wait."
Cecil and the magistrate Knevett were the first back. Then, somewhat later than the suggested hour, Suffolk and Monteagle arrived, both obviously much excited.
"We have it, She-I swear we have it I" the Earl cried, almost as soon as he entered the room. "In one of the cellars, A man called Johnson. A desperate fellow, I vow! A wild eye. With a lantern. Much coals…"
"Aye, aye, my lord-tak your time. Let's hear it in some order. And no need to shout, man."
"Your pardon, Sire. I… we made circuit of the hall and galleries. All in order there. Then the cellars. Starting from the river end. We had an officer, with keys. But two we could not enter-the locks so rusted with disuse. Another empty but for the rats-faugh, a hundred rats I Big as cats. And the stench. Then a larger one. Locked. But we could not get the key in. Another key on the inside. So we beat on the door. In time, this man came. He had a lantern. He called through. Asked if it was Thomas. Or John. I said, aye, Thomas. My own name. He opened. A wild man. But no ruffian. Good clothes. A sword. A gentleman of sorts. We did not challenge him. I said I was Thomas, Earl of Suffolk, seeing that all was well for tomorrow's opening. Monteagle named himself…"
"I had never seen the fellow before," that man put in. "But he seemed to know my name."
"Not to alarm him, we but glanced into the cellar. There was a great heap of coals and wood. Going far back. No other men that we could see. We asked him what he did there, and at this hour of night. He said that he was servant to Master Thomas Percy, who rented the cellar from the Crown…" "Ha-Percy!" James exclaimed. "We come to it!"
"Yes, Sire. He said that this Percy used the cellar for storage of his coals and billets. For his house nearby. And others. The gentlemen-pensioners' houses. The man-he said his name was John Johnson-was sorting his master's coals, for a new load was coming in a day or two. For the winter. I said his master must like to keep himself warm, for he had a good supply there already. And he said this Percy let other pensioners use it also. A thin story. But we wished him a good night, and left him. We heard him lock the door behind us. And came straight to Your Majesty." "Mercy on us! And you dinna think he took fright?" Both lords thought not.
"Waesucks-are you satisfied now, man Cecil? Wi' our conjectures and suppositions?"
Grimly the Secretary of State nodded. "Yes, She. I think that we can safely try to make the arrests now. This Percy, Tresham and the rest Although, to be sure, they may be in hiding."
"We'll get the man Johnson, at the least. If he hasna bolted already. Then question him as to the others."
"She-with respect no! There is this ship, in the river. The others might be aboard her. Or would flee to her, on the first hint of trouble. And get clean away to sea, in the dark. We must not have them alarmed one moment before it is necessary. I will have the watermen see to the ship, to prevent it sailing. And watch other shipping at the quays. But this will take time. We must place guard on the cellar, yes-but not take this man Johnson before need be. I want all these conspirators-all!"
"Aye-you're right man. But we darena lose this one sure capture. If he's still there."
"I suggest, She, that Knevett here, with a party, goes down. To watch the cellar door. Ascertain that the fellow is still within. Remain nearby to guard it. Not challenge or enter, unless forced to, by being discovered or by the man leaving. Then, when we have the ship, and have arrested the others-in, and take Johnson. Others may come to join him. This must be handled with much care." "Aye, well. It's your business, Cecil. You'll ken what you're at."
"I have my methods, She. Sir Thomas Knevett-collect a party of the Guard. Not too many-for they must remain hidden. Six or eight will serve. Cover them in cloaks-we want no interest or outcry from citizens. Take up position opposite or near the cellar door. There are merchants' warehouses there, for the quays. And wait You understand?" "Yes, my lord."
"You others, my lords-and Master Heriot-need not be further detained. I will now handle this matter…"
"Not so, Salisbury!" Suffolk exclaimed. "I am acting Earl Marshal. This is as much my responsibility as yours. I'm damned if I'll be pushed out at this pass! I'm going back with Knevett He may require guidance…"
"So ami!" Lennox declared. "I'm certainly not going quietly to my lodging and bed, now. Eh, Geordie?"
"You will find it a cold, wet vigil, I think, my lords!" Cecil said thinly. "But so long as you abide by what I have said…"
"Och, man-we're no' a' bairns!" the King reproved. "We've a' done well this night-we'll see it out I'd come doon there mysel’-but it wouldna look right. No' right. But you'll a' keep me right well informed, mind. For I'll no' sleep until I hear the outcome. And I want to see this man Johnson, when you tak him. Bring him here. I ken how to deal wi' his like!"
In the end, Monteagle went off with Cecil; and Suffolk, Lennox and Heriot, heavily cloaked, accompanied the magistrate down to Westminster, picking up half-a-dozen Yeomen of the Guard as they went.
The thin drizzle of the day continued, cold and raw-for it was nearly midnight. The damp, earthy smell of the Thames permeated all these riverside streets. Without the usual link-bearers, they hurried anonymously through the narrow, dark lanes-and such very few people as were about gave them wide and wary berth. Coming to the old Palace of Westminster, they moved cautiously round the riverward side of it, a deserted area of docks and storehouses, and Suffolk pointed out the significant cellar. Fortunately there was a warehouse almost opposite, with a pend through its basement. This pend was blocked by a gate, locked, but it was set far enough inside to leave a space where men could huddle in cover and darkness.
Before settling to their vigil, Suffolk and Knevett went over quietly, to the cellar door, to look and listen. They came back, heads ashake.
"Not a whisper of a sound. Or a chink of light," the Earl said anxiously. "He may have gone. Taken fright, after all. God's eyes -we should have taken him when we had the chance. All this caution of Cecil's. He's an old woman…!"
"He may still be inside," Lennox said. "Maybe asleep. If he is but on guard, waiting, he needs no light, need not move about…" They settled to wait, since there seemed nothing else to be done.
It was cold and uncomfortable, as the Secretary of State had prophesied.
Midnight chimed from a score of church clocks-the 5 th of November. About half an hour later, footsteps sounded on the wet cobblestones-one man's. They huddled back.
It was difficult to see anything in the gloom, but it was evident that the newcomer was on the other side of the street. He halted, opposite-and distinctly they all heard a key fit and turn in a lock, the faint creak of a door opening and shutting, then silence..
"You heard that?" Suffolk whispered. 'That was a key turned on the outside. Therefore there cannot have been one on the inside. So the cellar was empty, locked from without. Our man must have gone away, and come back. No doubt to warn his fellows, of my visit. Now he's back. Or another is."
"So at least we have someone to capture and question," Lennox said.
They waited again. One o'clock struck. Nobody else came. The watchers shivered in their cloaks, all excitement gone out of the business, the gentry all but deciding that they had had enough. Two o'clock. Parliament would be opening in nine hours.
Then there were sounds of the key turning in the lock again. There had been no more footsteps. The door creaked.
"Quick!" Heriot jerked. "He's coming out If he's going away, we'll have to take him. Cannot let him get away again…"
They heard the door close and the lock click again. That was enough. The man was leaving, locking the door behind him.
Lennox leading, they rushed out, dividing right and left to prevent escape either way. Hemmed in the narrow street, taken completely by surprise, their man had no chance. One against ten, he put up little struggle. Knevett declared that he arrested him in the King's name.
Heriot delved into the fellow's pocket and found the key. He went to open the cellar-door once more, and they all hustled within, shutting and locking it again. Someone struck a light and the tinder flared. The lantern, still warm, stood on a shelf near the door. They lit it
"It's the same man," Suffolk declared, "Johnson. Aye-we would like a further look at Master Percy's coals, Master Johnson!"
The man was swarthy, with an Italianate look to him, slender, wiry, keen-featured, with long, flowing hair and a small black beard. He glared at his captors, certainly did not cringe, and held his tongue.
The cellar proved -to be larger than had seemed likely from the outside, and very deep. Coals and timber were heaped up to form a barrier, but it could be seen that the chamber went far beyond that. One of the Guard, clambering over the coals, shouted, "Barrels!" he cried.
There were no fewer than thirty-six barrels of gunpowder stacked in the long probing cellar, two of them great hogsheads- sufficient explosive to demolish an even larger and stronger building than this old palace. According to Suffolk, they were directly under the Lords' chamber.
Leaving most of the Yeomen to guard the cellar, and to arrest anyone coming to it, they took the man Johnson back with them to Whitehall.
King James was in his great bed, nightcap on, but very much awake. He insisted on the captive being brought in for his personal interrogation, there and then. They would see what they could get out of him, before Cecil got his hands on the crittur, he declared.
James, in fact, was not without experience in this matter of questioning. When younger, he had taken an enormous interest in witchcraft-and had actually written a book on the subject In his enquiries and investigations he had put to the question literally hundreds of his subjects-and since all were accused of an offence against both Church and State, he had not required to be over-delicate in his methods. He had presided personally over these sessions, and often declared that the most efficacious way of getting quickly to the root of things, even with the most obdurate, was to tie a rope round their temples, apply a lever, and twist until the scalp was lifted off. Seldom, apparently, was it necessary to go quite to this length, before the truth came flooding out
John Johnson, before his monarch, was prepared to talk, after a fashion. He admitted his guilt-he could scarcely do otherwise- and his intention to blow up the King and parliament. For reason, he gave only his belief that it was the will of God that they should be destroyed, on account of sins innumerable. He had no accomplices, he said. It was all his own notion. He was the servant of Master Thomas Percy-but his master knew nothing of the project.
His hearers scoffed at this. If he was only a servant, how had he got the money to buy all the gunpowder? How had he conveyed it, single-handed, into the cellar? Moreover, how came it that he spoke with a gentleman's voice if he was but a servant?
He had been a soldier in the foreign wars, he said. He was gently born, yes, but with no means. Most of the powder he had stolen from ships at the quaysides. Barrel by barrel. Rolling each barrel to the cellar at night For over a year.
Getting angry, James declared that he was lying. To him, the King. That he, the King, had means of making men talk the truth. He described his rope speciality, in detail.
Johnson did not blanch. On the contrary, he grew the more defiant. That sounded like the barbarities which might be looked for from Scotland, he declared. He had never found the Scots to his taste-hypocrites and savages all. One of his objects in this employment was to blow all the Scotsmen back to Scotland.
The King, gobbling and gasping, was bereft of speech. Suffolk hit the man twice across the face, so that his nose began to bleed. James had never liked blood at close quarters and drew back on his bed almost primly. But he forced himself to nod approvingly.
"Aye-suitable." he said. "Suitable for an ill-mouthed limmer. A right opprobrious scoundrel. 'We'll mak him sing another tune. You'll hang, my mannie-but first you'll talk! And civilly."
Just then Cecil returned, with the Lord Admiral, Ellesmere the Chancellor, Coke the Attorney-General, and other members of the Council.
"All is in train, She," he announced. "Percy is flown, but we found an older man, Keyes, in his house. He will not tell us what we wish-yet. But a servant of Percy's, one Kempson, has talked to some effect. We have now many more names. Is this the man Fawkes, from the cellar…?"
"Fox? No. He ca's himsel' Johnson. An ill loon, if ever I saw one! He'll no' tell us anything. Just unseemly abuse. To me-the King!"
"You should have left him to me, She. Scarcely work for Your Majesty. We'll stretch his tongue for him-like other parts! His true name is Fawkes-Guido Fawkes. So Kempson says. A fanatic Catholic, associator with Jesuits, and daring adventurer. Kempson turned evidence, to save his skin. As I guessed, there was a major conspiracy among certain Catholic squires, mainly from the Midlands. No great names yet A few knights and men of means. But we will get them all, never fear."
The prisoner stared round at them all, unwinking, blood dripping from his nose.
"Fawkes, eh?" the King said. "Guido Fawkes! A queer-like name. A man who would ha' murdered the Lord's Anointed I Disgraceful!"
"And near one thousand others, Sire!" Lennox reminded. "Including all here!"
"Ooh, aye. Regrettable. But we'll mak them pay for their fell design, on my royal word! Tak him awa', Cecil man-and do your worst wi' him. He's an ill limmer, and I'll no' further soil my hands wi' him. Get his masters' names out o' him."
"We shall not spare him, She, be assured. But we have already got many names from this servant Kempson-Thomas Winter, Robert John and Christopher Wright Ambrose Rookwood of Coldham Hall, and Robert Catesby, son to Sir William. And we shall get others, I promise you. The ship is held, and we have all now well in hand."
"Nae doubt But, mind-you wouldna ha' had onything in hand, man, if I hadna put you right on it Anent the gunpowder. And the ship, and a'. Aye, wi' Geordie Heriot's help. You kenned mething o' it. I am right displeased wi' you, Cecil, Earl of Salisbury. My royal person could ha' been disploded and dissolved, just for a' you were like to do about it This great wicked conspiracy against me, in this England-and my English Secretary and Council hadna hint nor hair o' it! A fair disgrace. You'll hae to do better than this-or there will be changes in this realm o' England. Aye, changes!" Majesty drooped one heavy lid over a deeply lustrous eye in the direction of George Heriot. "Off wi' you, now-and I'll maybe get some sleep. I've a right heavy day, the morn." James took off his high hat and tossed it down the bed, as token that the audience was over, nightcap retained. Hastily all started to bow themselves out the prisoner being dragged with them. Fervently expressed desires for the monarch to have a good night, and praise to the Almighty for his great deliverance, came in a volley-even Cecil muttering something of the sort.
Before all were out and the doors shut, Majesty had a parting shot. "I will expect to see you a' in your places at the parliament-opening in a wheen hours-aye, you too, Knevett, and you Geordie Heriot Just to be fell sure that if there's any mair attempts on our royal person that you havena heard tell o' yet, you'll a' be there to share the danger wi' your liege lord. Off wi' you!"
And so, seven hours later, and a little late, the second parliament of the reign was duly opened, with pomp and ceremony, and the Archbishop of Canterbury offering urgent and agitated thanks to God for the preservation of their beloved and esteemed sovereign -to the mystification of the vast majority of those present. Wild rumours did not fail to circulate, of course-but displosions by gunpowder, to use the monarch's own phrase, was by no means one of the whispered suggestions. Catholic threats, yes-that was a foregone conclusion, with dire prognostications as to retribution and reprisals to come.
It was five hours before the full story was allowed to leak out- by which time a great haul of conspirators had been made in Staffordshire and thereabouts, from whence most of the ringleaders seemed to come and where most had fled; although a number, including Robert Catesby, who appeared to be the master-mind, were slain resisting capture. The feared general Catholic uprising did not materialise-indeed many of the Catholic nobility and gentry drove refugees from their doors with bitter reproaches that they had brought disgrace on all who professed the ancient faith. To the surprise of his English ministers, if not of the Scots, James forbade any consequent witch-hunts or campaigns of terror, pointing out reasonably that though he deemed them mistaken in then-views, some of his best friends were Catholics; and hinting that an alternative party in the realm was an excellent means of keeping his good Protestant servants on their toes. Almost a dozen unfortunates fell to be hanged, of course, after the normal preliminaries-amongst them Guido Fawkes, defiant to the end despite his tortured state, Sir Everard Digby, Ambrose Rookwood and others, these all claiming repentance for their desperate intention against the monarch and parliament but professing unalterable attachment to their Romish faith
The venue chosen for this epilogue to a most curious drama was none other than the west-end of the same St Paul's church where George Heriot was wont to prosecute his daily ambulations, business exchanges and social gossipings-a most useful edifice. King James watched all, from a hidden comer, with lively interest