class="pginternal" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">97-113

CHAPTER VII. A Latin Book—Immoderate friendships—Principles—Second-hand approval—How Catesby deceived Garnet—He deceived his fellow-conspirators—A liar 114-129 CHAPTER VIII. Garnet’s unfortunate conversation with Sir Everard—Garnet’s weakness—How Garnet first learned about the Plot—Secresy of the Confessional—Catesby and the Sacraments—Catesby a Catholic on Protestant principles—Could Garnet have saved Sir Everard?—Were the conspirators driven to desperation?—Did Cecil originate the Plot? 130-148 CHAPTER IX. Financial aspects of the Gunpowder Plot—Sir Everard’s relations to his wife—Little John—Secret room at Gothurst—Persecution of Catholics in Wales—The plan of Campaign—Coughton—Guy Fawkes—His visit to Gothurst 149-168 CHAPTER X. White Webbs—Baynham’s Mission—All-Hallows at Coughton—All Souls at Gothurst—An unwelcome Guest—The remains of feudalism—Start from Gothurst—Arrival at Dunchurch—What was going on in London—Tresham—The hunting-party—A card-party—Arrival of the fugitives—The discovery in London—The flight 169-191 CHAPTER XI. Catesby lies to Sir Everard—Expected help from Talbot—The hunting-party repudiates the conspirators—The future Earl of Bristol—The start—Warwick—Norbrook—Alcester—Coughton—Huddington—Talbot refuses to join in the Insurrection—Father Greenway—Father Oldcorne—Whewell Grange—Shadowed—No Catholics will join the conspirators—Don Quixote 192-218 CHAPTER XII. Holbeche House—Sir Everard deserts—Sir Fulke Greville—The Hue-and-Cry—Hunted—In cover—Caught—Journey to London—Confiscation—The fate of the conspirators at Holbeche—The Archpriest—Denunciations—Letter of Sir Everard—Confession 219-236 CHAPTER XIII. Threats of torture—Search at Mrs Vaux’s house—Lady Digby’s letters to Salisbury—Sir Everard to his wife—Sir Everard writes to Salisbury—Death of Tresham—Poem—Examinations 237-251 CHAPTER XIV. Father Gerard’s letter to Sir Everard—Sir Everard exonerates Gerard—Sir Everard’s letter to his sons 252-267 CHAPTER XV. The trial—Appearance of the prisoners from different points of view—Sir Edward Philips—Sir Edward Coke—His description of the punishment for High Treason—Sir Everard’s speech—Coke’s reply—Earl of Northampton—Lord Salisbury—Sentence 268-288 CHAPTER XVI. Waiting for death—Poem—Kind words for Sir Everard—The injury he did to the Catholic cause—Two happy days—Procession to the scaffold—Sir Everard’s last speech—Execution—Epilogue 289-306

[Pg x]
[Pg 1]

---

CHAPTER I.

Nothing is so fatal to the telling of an anecdote as the prelude:—“I once heard an amusing story,”&c., and it would be almost as unwise to begin a biography by stating that its subject was a very interesting character. On the other hand, perhaps I may frighten away readers by telling them at starting, this simple truth, that I am about to write the history of a young man of great promise, whose short life proved a miserable failure, who terribly injured the cause he had most at heart, for which he gave his life, a man of whom even his enemies said, when he had met his sad fate:—“Poor fellow. He deserved it. But what a pity!”

If the steady and unflinching gaze of one human being upon another can produce the hypnotic state, it may be that, in a much lesser degree, there is some subtle influence in the eternal stare of the portrait of an ancestor. There is no getting away from it unless you leave the room. If you look at your food, talk to a friend, or read a book, you know and feel that his eyes are still rivetted upon you; and if you raise your own, again, towards his, there he is, gravely and deliberately gazing at you, or, you are half inclined to think, through you at something beyond and behind you, until you almost wish that you could be thrown into some sort of cataleptic condition, in which a series of scenes could be brought before your vision from the history of the long-dead man, whose representation seems only to exist for the purpose of staring you out of countenance.

In a large country house, near the west coast of Wales, and celebrated for its fine library, hangs a full-length portrait which might well impel such a desire. It represents a tall man, with long hair and a pointed beard, in a richly-chased doublet, a lace ruff and cuffs, very short and fringed trunk hose, and a sword by his side. He has a high forehead, rather raised and arched eyebrows, a long nose, hollow cheeks, and a narrow, pointed chin. His legs are thin; his left hand is placed upon his hip; and with his right he holds a cane, which is resting on the ground. At the bottom of the picture is painted, in Roman characters, “Sir Everard Digby, Knight, OB. 1606.”

Few people care for genealogies unless their own names are recorded in them. The keenest amateur herald in matters relating to his own family, will exhibit an amazing apathy when the pedigree of another person is offered for his inspection; the shorter, therefore, my notice of Sir Everard Digby’s descent, the better. He was descended from a distinguished family. It had come over from Normandy with William the Conqueror, who had granted it lands at Tilton, which certainly were in its possession in