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THOMAS CAMPION OF LONDON, DOCTOR OF MEDICINE 
ON THE GUNPOWDER PLOT
IN TWO BOOKS
or
you in your triumph, most invincible monarch, may the fifth day of
November shine bright; indeed, let it come around yearly to your
happiness, your security, your glory. Allow me to think it not amiss
to offer into your hands this trifling work, issued on this most
happy day on which is celebrated the infinite goodness of our
excellent God almighty, but also your divine wisdom, in the
repression of the Gunpowder Plot. And so, most merciful and puissant
patron, accept this small gift, which will perhaps be longer of life
and livelier, if your goodness breathes its favor on it as it goes
forth into the light. Long may you live: now, as always, I pray that
you continually thrive, and govern in prosperity.
Most humbly devoted to your majesty,
THOMAS CAMPION
Once
an oaken wreath was sacred to Jove, a laurel one to Phoebus, and myrtle shaded
Venus’ sweet head; but ears of wheat garlanded Ceres and ivy wreaths
Bacchus, and thus the ancients gave each of the gods his ornament in accordance
with his merits. Nor, if there was any human debt for a deed, was
the gratitude for its doer stinting. Thus pious error granted
celestial honors for human things, and loving remembrance created gods. If
we are to believe the Greeks, when the world was young nobody performed
a service for humanity unthanked. And so what honors, great king,
is the British nation to pay for you, when it is as if our world
has been reborn? Your heaven-born wisdom has restored her and
rescued her when she was on the point of destruction by treason. I, a small
part of such a great people, have constructed this work in your
prayers, such as my pious Muse has song to give me. And I pray
that this work may endure, surviving the centuries, an exercise
in duty that is baleful for your enemies, but wholesome for you.
FIRST EPIGRAM AGAINST THE JESUITS
When English
wolves had been driven to extinction and no space existed for foreign
ones, Roman wolves cleverly made their appearance shrouded in hoods;
with impunity they fed on our lambs without trepidation, until a
German shepherd, likewise wearing a hood, woke the world from its
slumber, dispelled the cloud, valuing these wolves according to their
true aspect. When they had been routed, the erstwhile security
returned to the flock. But Rome supplied a new deceit, clothing foxes
in garments suitable to their species, stealing in furtively with
treasonable assault, bearing terrible torches on their tails, bearing
terrible torches on their vain tails. Now that these have been
chopped off, Britain sings a third hymn of triumph. Surely neither
the Roman cannot do more with his dark fire, or the Prince of Hell
with his cunning?
The Romans of
old were adequately known by three names, but in London town our
Jesuits cannot be identified by three, or even four.
Your English
Jesuit takes strange pleasure in multiple names, variously assuming
nine, ten, or more, but all aliases, for this false-mouthed fellow
shrewdly takes care to keep quiet about his own. Now let me gain the
credit for giving him some more appropriate ones, ones which nobody
will deny are no less suitable than his own paternal name:
Nation-deserter, Disgrace to his Parents, Exile, Renegade, Despicable
Traitor, Lord of Fools, Slave of the Arrogant, Errand Boy of Roman
Business, Spanish Sycophant and Laughingstock, Father of Doubtful
Talk, and Pious Liar; then too, he is a none too chaste persuader of
women, bloodthirsty, bold, warmongering, bent on regicide. If I find
that these names give him pleasure, soon I shall add more, nor is
there any fear that my supply of fresh ones will run out.
Rome tries to
cure so-called heretics with a powder neither holy nor Catholic,
though she claims to dominate Catholics and holy alike, albeit with
the Satanic powder of a monk.
A PLAYFUL EPIGRAM ON IGNATIUS HIS CONCLAVE BY JOHN DONNE, DOCTOR OF THEOLOGY
Donne taxes
the Jesuits but not merely in a single book, for he derides them in
Latin too. In the Latin language dun is the first syllable of
duntaxat, and when Donne duns you he lands the first
blows.
My
Act One describes God’s kindnesses and the wrath of the Devil, by
whose suasion Hope is sent by false religion to Catesby; he assembles
his confederates and broaches the gunpowder affair; Garnet,
consulted, gives his approval; Belgium contributes Fawkes, who
superintends the digging efforts. Hereupon pious Religion laments at
Elisa’s tomb, and heaven’s winged messenger comes to her aid, the
time appointed for Parliament is postponed. A letter is given
Monteagle, which the king (who has been put on his guard) deciphers,
thus revealing this contrivance of gunpowder.
I sing of the great and wondrous works of our almighty Patron,
unsurpassed by His former achievements when He parted the sea for
the exiles and laid low their enemies,
nor when at a single blow He scattered great armies hostile to
Jerusalem, triumphant above the stars. He desires this feat to
be lesser to that one alone, to which the greatest yield: I mean
when the blood of His only begotten Son was shed, and God recalled
the world to Himself, death having been vanquished.
As I sing of your high deed, Thrice-Great, grant me courage and
wit; banish heavy cares from my heart, dispel the mists from before
my eyes. May I boldly reveal the deep crimes of the infernal tyrant
against a world that was undeserving - and Yours: novel things,
dire and unspeakable, horrid things undertaken in the name of divine
religion.
Oh you poor people, Great Britain, all but reduced to nothing,
if our Father had not had a care for you and brought you divine
aid as you were on the point of collapse, though nobody was holding
Him in dread. Let us celebrate His gift in everlasting song, such
as all our posterity may ponder in its remembering mind.
The ancient, unbending enemy of mankind, the
lord of the shades, he who envies the supreme godhead (always to be worshipped),
he who hates the gladsome Light, clever, vain,
the kindling and author of every dissension (although after the
death of much-lamented Elisa the scepter yielded itself to a peace-making
monarch in accordance with its own law), when first he saw that
on all sides Britain’s doubtful affairs had been made firm,
with olive-crowned Peace traveling everywhere, holy religion thriving
in our churches, our greenwoods resounding with joy and glory,
our palaces and cities replete with every manner of pomp; he saw
his wiles profited him naught, and his deceits had set themselves
against the holy king
to no avail; that of their own will the Spanish were abandoning
their wonted hatreds and extending the hand of friendship;
that the guilty weapons of the Irish were now at peace; and
that no place remained for clashing arms or stealthy fraud, the king of
Tartarus soon perceived the might of heaven, that such
things did not occur without the operation of divine will, and
so the impious one trembled, and at the same time roared with his
dog’s muzzle, spewing forth threats, insulting heaven with
his speech.
“You heavenly powers, it is not permitted me, nor is it my
desire, to be raised to starry heaven’s golden ceiling; keep
your shining homes and the heights for yourselves. But do not
begrudge me my earthly empire, my rule over the dark Underworld; do not
mix your wills in my affairs, your light in my shadows. Surely
that ancient queen has buried hatred for me in her tomb as an
incorruptible corpse, a queen celebrated with trophies for the magnificent
peace
she has bequeathed her well-beloved people, though yet more beloved
herself.
But what shall the death of an enemy, much hoped for, avail? Behold,
a new foe survives and
threatens this head of mine, more hostile and more to be feared, as his
mind is more equipped with heavenly weapons. All this is
your work, o powers of heaven, nor do such miracles fall within
the range of human understanding. Alas, how many schemes have we
vainly set in motion? Those who know how wretchedly to placate
your will by prayer cling safely under your protection, and always
will. Thus the power of the gods is justly hateful in my sight:
I loathe the light, the sky, whatever fair thing either pole sustains
on its axis.”
The unclean Devil groveled no more with words, but struck at the
stars with swift roaring, gathering great balls of darkness, large
as mountains, and hurling them with a brazen hand, covering the
sky with clouds, and he confounded the world as much as his anger
was able. He assumed a thousand monstrous forms, with his unclean
face a thousand Chimeras:
now he slithered as a coiled snake, flew as a dragon, soon he growled
like a bear, like a wolf he worried Hell with his incontinent howling;
then he bellowed horribly like a horn-tossing bull, gnashed his
teeth like a savage boar. Next he confounded shapes drawn from
every source. As he exercised his evil art to arouse for himself
whatever is brutal, he terrified the wan shades; but as his heart
grew weary the wild tempest likewise subsided. And behold, a hooded
demon, bolder than the rest, spoke up.
“Great patron, let not concern for the failing Roman cause
touch you more than is reasonable. What does it matter if lately
the whole business has become transparent to the people thanks
to Luther’s envy? Is nothing better understood than the bishop’s
miter? Let it be so: great things used to be accomplished by the
handiwork of a few men, and unless our minds are foolish, even
now they can accomplish the greatest. The British boast that they
are safe within their oceanic ramparts,
and from afar they mock Roman thunderbolts; nevertheless they will
be compelled to acknowledge this lightning, though their voice
be unwilling. There is an ancient hall, father,
reserved for their highest councils, where King and Peers have agreed to
convene on an appointed day, together with a portion
of the better sort of commoners. As soon as these chambers are
full, destroy them with a single blast. Gunpowder is at your disposal,
and buried fire; this is our invention, created for such purposes.”
This advice pleased the Devil, and with cypress he crowned the
shaven pate of its author; both were cheered by the omen.
For a long time it has been understood that there are two religions.
One descended from heaven to earth, a lover of peace, simple of
adornment, humble, but fair of countenance, constant in mind and
in appearance. Innocent Fear is her companion, and ever-eager Hope,
prophetess of future happiness, always aware of the truth.
But the other is blind in one eye, sent forth from dark gold mines,
lofty, threatening, or treacherous out of hidden pride, lacking
inborn beauty, but gaining allure by cosmetics, tricked out in
varied cheapjack gems.
Servile Dread attends her, and drunken Hope, unsteady on her feet.
Her handsome abode gleams on a high mountain peak, notable for
its painted towers. But no matter how stately it may be on the
outside, its interior is loathsome to the viewer. On its doorposts
stand the images of thousands upon thousands of gods, resembling
the faces of beasts, demons, and all the imaginings of terror and
madness.
A hundred temples could scarce contain the half of them, a hundred
barbers
or the like number of monks would hardly suffice for their telling.
One would be able to see Iphianassa placed on the dire altar, piteously
weeping, calling in vain for her father’s help;
but though he may hold the command, the cunning of the angry priest
has the greater power, so the victim dies for the winds which she
placates - but she scarce placates the priest with all her blood.
Alas, impious religion, how much crime you work, how much you harm
the world!
But we admit that these things are silly trifles, compared to the
novelties produced by our times, an age more learned in every manner
of evildoing.
To kill royal offspring, to overthrow a triple nation with
a single blast is sweet and honorable: woe, woe for you, troublesome Rome,
disgrace of an empire, pervasive plague upon men’s minds!
Leftward of the doorway stands a great arcade supported by columns
decked out with silver and gold. The place is crammed with portraits,
and in effigy Popes rise again with their triple tiaras and embroidered
robes, beginning with Boniface, under whose leadership Rome is
triumphing.
Likewise, it is packed with statues and foolish relics such as
could make you wholly dissolve in laughter, Heraclitus, or wholly
in tears.
Here the one-eyed goddess takes her delight, here she often lingers,
and here the king of Erebus approached her as
she was loading dire maledictions on the German faith, the Dutch, the pious
English. And when she caught sight of Tartarus’ lord, she eagerly
gave ear to his speech; the Stygian One fully explained the matter of the
gunpowder: such a foul undertaking
required coloration. He asked that she send bedizened Hope, so
that with her voice she might inflame Catesby,
setting him afire with an infatuation for murder: he bore an ill
will against his country, and was especially minded towards revolution,
and Grant and suitable Rookwood
were to be his confederates and partners in all things. Winter,
Wright,
and you, depraved Percy,
were drawn from notable stock
and belonged to the friends of this common cause. He urged that
Catesby be put to the test, for the Fates demanded him. It was
agreed, whorish Hope hastened forth, painted, tricked out like
a notorious harlot hired by a lover. She found the rascal at home,
oppressed by ill fortune, buried in sleep and wine,
at Lambeth, hard by your lovely waters, Thames.
“Rise up,” she
said, “alas,
you are unhappily asleep, my sweet child. Are you not moved by Rome, wickedly
betrayed by you, by you and your sloth?
Or if this seems none of your concern, then repair your fortunes,
avoid the ruin which your wantonness hastens forward, and the law
threatens. You
know the place where an assembly of the whole realm is to be convoked,
and this within a short space. Destroy this hateful nation
from below with gunpowder; thus you will come off the victor,
famous, and be counted among the saints of Rome.” She spoke, and lightly
slipped into dark shadow, the scheme now hatched. Harsh fright
shook Catesby’s heart, the image that was snatched away troubled
him. Turning over many things in his diseased mind, after light
had been returned to the world, he assembled like-minded men,
well suited for treason, whom he knew full well, Winter, trusty
with his wicked heart, and Wright. Tardier than usual in joining
the conclave, Percy at length showed up, shaking with fervor, and
said “Why
are we always talking, comrades, and doing nothing? Do we never want to
kill the King himself? See, here you have a hand
that is determined.”
Catesby replied in a voice that stammered, yet was ready for evildoing:
“We have been doing thus for a long time, Percy, so that we
might do something worthy of ourselves, but it is needful for words
to precede action, just as light is needed for seeing things. To
kill a King while his plentiful offspring survive him is not a
business worthy of such a right hand, brave fellow: let it keep
its strength for greater things until the need summons it. My mind
is giving birth to a great enterprise, one that claims no small
amount of wicked art. If you are looking for a thing that bears
fruit, this is the one that can assuredly restore their ancient
splendor to our churches, and repose to the oppressed spirits of
the pious.” Whatever this is, they exclaimed, let him not cease
trusting their loyal ears, their dispositions equal to his amidst
all perils. “Since you are all of this mind,” he said, “hear
in a few words a thing which requires much. My plan is to do away
with the King himself, and his offspring, together with Parliament
and Lords, in a single blast of black powder.” All quaked at his
announcement, the blood deserted the speaker’s face, and,
despite themselves, a shared horror enforced a sober and protracted
silence. As when a song has begun, reducing varied voices to a
concord, and one discordant voice happens to disrupt the others
with its harsh bleat, so all the others fall silent as its harshness
is shunned,
in no other wise they fell silent, when they heard the word gunpowder,
that destroys all with its horrible confusion.
After a long silence, Winter spoke up in hesitant tones: “Not even if all the earth were to yawn for me, if all Hell’s
horror were to be ranged against me, would I shrink back, were
Rome to summon. If the golden liberty of our ancestral faith should
compel me, it would be my pleasure to go through battles or fire,
nor do I recoil from these great resolutions out of fear. But this
difficult and thorny way frightens me, as does the prospect of
disgracing our good cause, should our enterprise fail. Furthermore,
the fair portion of our own people that will fall, caught up in
the perishing throng, is not to be neglected, lest even victory
become too invidious.” Percy railed at him, first
tearing into his closing words. “Oh exceedingly blessed
are they,” he exclaimed, “to whom it is granted to remove
by dying so many evils, dangers, and calamities for our religion.
How I crave to join this number, to devote this soul of mine to
such a fair deed. May parents die along with all their seed, rather
than have such a worthy and noble vengeance not befall the profane,
a vengeance surpassing in usefulness and justice all that repute
has brought to my ears. For what is more righteous, I swear by
the stars, than for us to employ murder to gain vengeance on our
enemies in the selfsame places where they have been accustomed
to hurl thunderbolts against our lives and fortunes, nobody restraining
them, by the force of their edicts, under the cloudy pretext of
our greedy guile?”
Wright
clearly approved these statements and heaped the speaker with praise, eager
to express his wonder at the gunpowder device:
nothing could more assuredly throw all into confusion in a trice,
or offer better opportunity for revolution, or renew the hope of
restoring their languishing faith’s ancient honor for the
benefit of the exhausted British. Thus they cloaked these impious
monstrosities under the guise of a pious mind. “Hasten where
you are going,” said Winter, “be it fair or foul, if this
is your decision I am unshrinking, I shall go wherever our common
destiny might carry us. Now let all piety leave the heart in me,
and in all of us: may that man die who stands in the way of our
action’s success. Yet that wise doctor of Cos teaches
that gentle medicines are first to be applied to the ailing, and if this
helps, there is no need for anything further. But if
an easy remedy has cheated one’s hopes, and the doctor struggles
against something greater, he employs steel or fire. If such be
your pleasure, let us imitate the physician by asking aid from
the Spanish ambassador now arriving, if he can sway the mind of
our hard sovereign who disowns us, so that he will consent to grant
us common law rights in our own native land and allow us the liberty
of your rites, o Rome. This Spaniard still lingers in Belgian territory,
where I am hastening, soon to meet with trusty Owen, a man beloved
to princes, and a friend of our interests. Let it be my responsibility
to make trial of the Spanish legate’s questionable disposition, to
see if he can promise anything. And if this does not turn out in accordance
with my hopes, let us go further, and return to the
extremity of a conflagration.”
“Winter is wise and offers good advice,” began Percy, “but
I fear lest this hope is a chill one. Nonetheless let him persist
in this idea, this is my view.” Catesby said nothing to the contrary,
but earnestly urged that Winter make his trip: then let him first
see if Owen can
achieve anything, afterwards let him meet with Fawkes, a fellow countryman
who has long followed the drum under an Austrian captain,
and bring this exile back to his native shore. If the other possibilities
achieve nothing, and they are reduced to extremities, the task
is to be entrusted to none other than an expert in the tunneling
art, a man who can superintend their hidden fireworks. “Let
Percy,” he said, “have charge of acquiring a house hard by
Parliament’s foundations, at
any price, such as a royal lieutenant would scarce choose for his personal
use, for such houses are quite plentiful, and near
to the hall. But Wright will join me in seeing that a right proper
supply of powder is readied for us, from which small amounts can
safely be brought over in skiffs.”
It was agreed that they would shoulder their assignments, but,
lest they leave any just cause for suspicion a-growing, they administered
mutual oaths of silence about their secret endeavor; so that this
new trust might grow the quicker, swollen with superstition they
bound themselves to these things
with the Communion rite, and prayed for assistance in their
vain efforts. Oh the shame of it, they look to heaven, the very
source of good things, the averter of evil, by whose sole agency
all naughtiness is struck down; their demented audacity summoned
heaven to have a share in such a foul crime, and they called on
Jehovah, not as a witness, but as the leader of their deadly aspirations!
These
compacts having been made, the lord of dark Avernus chose a shade out of
his devils’ flock, one with capacious wings,
than whom none other is swifter, or more adroit at fooling human
vision with its flight. He bade it bear Winter on its dusky back:
wherever he wished to go, it should speedily carry him through
the air. Without delay, they flew over the sea lying below, no
slower than the East winds, and gained Owen, as hoped. Meanwhile
Percy rented a house,
chosen for the crime now brewing, and so that every scruple might
be removed, Catesby eagerly claimed that the misdeed had been approved
out of the mouth of the Lord.
There is a new priestly order which usurps the name of Jesus for
its own use; Ignatius was its founder, whence in happier years
they were called Ignatians , but nowadays Ignitians,
since they have justly taken their title from ignitable powder.
The golden Tagus spawned this Hydra, comely enough in appearance,
and fair at first glance, but in truth if you cast a closer eye
on it, that infamous swamp at Lerna, foul
with its toxins, never bore anything more disgraceful and horrid, nor did
the waters of Avernus in Greekish legend. In their
bellies such monsters hide schemes, arson, murder, daggers, poisons,
riots, and unjust wars, nor does this one region confine these
serpents as they all flit about on swift wings, causing unforeseen
destruction and unanticipated ruin. You may forget about the kites,
for they spread their nets for Jove’s eagles; they lie in
wait, not for the timid hind, but for the lion, in his very cave,
scorning his fang and his claw. This holy legion, by far the most
welcome to the Stygian One, teaches that there are falsehoods
worthy of good men, and
teach the swearing tongue to mint words contrary to the mind’s
intention. Alas, what probity, alas, how novel, how amazing! It
was undoubtedly unknown to our forefathers, for an earlier age
was naive, but now a kinder heavenly Father illuminates the world
with His greater light. Once an ill-starred French pyramid was
set up against this plague, and
as soon as it was removed, Henri, you perished; neither the bright fame
of your wars, nor the armed might of your retinue,
nor your nearby unshaken regiments could exert their powers to
protect you from the hand of one vile man and his bloodthirsty
knife. Not so did our eternal Father’s care for Elisa fail,
though it was hounded by a thousand plots and conspiracies. She
never lapsed in her faith, but quickly spotted the Spaniards’
floating towers, and then conquered, trusting in pious prayers
and heaven’s mighty weaponry: lest her hasty fleet fail, the
heavens, seas, and winged battalions fought on her behalf.
And now Garnet, Superior of
Ignitian activities (though only among the English - Belgium obeyed
Cresswell’s sacred voice,
Spain that of Baldwin), secretly laid down the law for those about to sail across the sea
. As he grew older in years, that shady character became more adroit
at artful deceptions, knowledgeable about matters public and private,
and he learned how to gull young men by putting on a pious act,
as well as the foolish souls of crones and gaffers. He inhabited
the empty countryside, far from the city, where a fair lady of
high degree catered to the old man in her rich household,
nor did the old fellow lack consolations for this timid mode of
living. Catesby sought out this manor, in which he was scarce received
as a stranger, and having paid great courtesy to the priest he
begged him to lend a private ear to his furtive scheme.
Our fox cheerfully lent him both his little ears and, all bystanders
removed, amiably urged him on.
“Come now, my son, tell me in confidence whatever bitter or
doubtful thing now troubles your heart, and I shall offer your
faithful breast advice and priestly consolation.” And so this pious
man anxiously inquired if
it were permissible to punish the wicked in such a way that one or two
good men might also die, whom destiny undeservedly added
to the criminal pile. “What in this,” said the Superior, “is
requisite for the common good is permissible, and I command it.
Consider a besieged city: shall its downfall, now readied by our
handiwork, be delayed if only two or three of our people remain
within the walls? When it is not allowed to remove them from the
massacre of our enemies, it is permissible for them to die. For
a trifling loss to obstruct that which is useful for many would
be craven and silly; let public considerations take precedent over
private.”
Having
gained this point (and there was nothing he had hoped for more than this),
bold Catesby now had no hesitation in entrusting
the whole crime to those consecrated ears, and both men were unblushing.
For piety’s sake, what kind of life of religious men, what
a meek one, confounds heaven and Hell?
If crime serves their advantage it is legitimate, even if conscience
would oblige that Sicilian tyrant to shudder.
But to loosen the reins on a man eager to wreck his country, a
country for which no good and trusty man has feared to die,
indeed even to goad on a hesitant man by inflaming him and aiding
him with advice, is this the office of a saintly Superior? Moreover,
for the benefit of this traitor and his accomplices, he invented
a method of manufacturing ambiguous meanings so they could speak
safely, and he taught them to muddle the whole issue by employing
the novel art of concealing a part of it.
He granted absolution to such fellows, though the ultimate salvation
was jeopardized and the forfeit was their future everlasting life.
Having received these weapons, our traitor went off the worse,
his mind having been made more resolute.
Rumor
whispered that Winter, accompanied by Fawkes, had landed on British soil.
Straightway all those whom the conspiracy gripped
in its snaky coils hastened and met their happy partner in crime
and their hidden destiny, together with the much-praised soldier.
Winter praised Owen’s loyal mind and zeal, but said there
was no hope in the ambassador, for the Spanish were wholly devoted
to peace and their own affairs; they must attempt the ultimate,
albeit unwillingly, for delay is a cause for anxiety in great enterprises,
cold is hostile to fire. Thus Catesby said, “My foresightful
mind has not deceived me, we trust overmuch in foreigners, while
that close at hand and our own goes a-languishing. We are led along
by phantoms, no less bloodless ourselves, but let a new ardor
excite us in our lethargy and compensate for these delays. The matter
itself now speaks more clearly, as
the pious opinion of our great Father Garnet pronounces it just - you see
me here as the witness by whom the oracle was received.” Hearing of
so great an authority, everyone burned all the more extravagantly for the
crime, greater confidence in the deed surged
up.
Fawkes joined their number, and
they enlisted Wright’s younger brother, but only after
both were sworn and affirmed the pact of silence by taking the
Sacrament. They girded themselves for the job, and by night stealthily
brought picks and mattocks through the dark streets, wood for
tunneling and props for walls. Against the horrible moment they filled
casks
with the great force of that powder which holds within itself
flame and noise. Next they provided for themselves with concealed food
and wine. Nor, when they had entered, could they exit again, lest
a sign of their frequent and novel assembly render them suspect.
Fawkes himself procured what was needful, for he was unknown,
operating under an alias,
and his station had changed: he was thought to be your servant,
Percy, and adroitly feigned to be such.
And
the lord of Acheron, no less industrious than they, contributed his own
light-shunning demons to our shut-ins for the companionship,
who never ceased advising new crimes, day and night, pestilential
with their hidden plague though themselves immune in form. At length
the conspirators set down their aristocrats’ swords and rolled
up their sleeves, took in hand rustic tools, and cheerfully did
the ditchers’ work they would otherwise have disdained, and
the sweat poured out of their disheveled hair. And while at their
work they discussed future outcomes in their varied conversation:
how the King might be captured if he kept away from the sitting;
or the Duke, if James should die, or the royal virgin;
which Peers ought to be spared,
if there would be any utility in so doing; to whom they should
give command just prior to the blast.
Then they evaluated foreign aid: the Spanish were too slothful;
the French armies to be feared as too rash; would the Dutch fleet
honor its treaty and come to aid the Protestants? Pointlessly they
brooded on such things in thought and speech; caught between hope
and fear, they manufactured such dreams.
Meanwhile, as was her wont, heavenly Religion visited the tomb
of our sacred Elisa.
Free of earthly dross, she contemplated the countenance, limned
in marble, and the erstwhile beauty of the beloved queen, a queen
in whose divine breast once dwelt notable piety and masculine courage.
For at home she was made most renowned by her arts of peace,
and was celebrated for her reputation in war, which foreign powers
felt far and wide, though chastised by a scourge of their own making.
She was mighty in government by land; by the heaving sea she brought
succor to allied realms, and hence she was brilliant in foreign
victories, a source of wonder even to her enemies. Though unwed,
as a single woman she so ruled great men that under her dominion
victory in battle never deserted the dominant English. This venerable
lady recalled the ancient rites to our religion, worshiping God
with a pure mind and simple observance, with frippery and Romish
pomp hissed off the stage of our churches. Hence conspiracies were
hatched and wars arose, but our one Lord protected her with His
love rescued her from perils, as the Roman saints remained indifferent.
And
the living Religion, having gazed at her image, and mindful of that noteworthy
age which Elisa’s name has consecrated
for all the centuries, said, “This sweet image, oh queen,
does not portray your true majesty, such as once we saw when you
would progress to Parliament in great estate, the people looking
on, or when, more learned than they, you would immediately give
firm answers to ambassadors in their own tongues. But in truth
your reputation better depicts you and will preserve you, lifelike,
as a monument more enduring than marble, a monument such as rescued
Britain owes her protectress. But let your bones, deposited here,
rest in peace, bones like those of your great father, which a powerful
madness once wished to rip out of the tomb as playthings for their
fires, save that the Fates forbade.”
New
indignation came over her as she spoke of these recent things, and so she
fell on her knees and, raising her two eyes to heaven,
prayed to the triune godhead. “Look down from heaven, o supreme
Ruler, true Father of the saints, Who can look into the shadows
and bowels of the earth with Your keen eyesight, and Who alone
can see the mind’s hidden motives, have mercy on Your own.
Loosen the sinews of the wicked, destroy their plans, and do not
abandon a king who possesses Elisa’s scepter and wields it
with wisdom, and who wholesomely worships You in his heart, whether
the Roman tyranny level her sword or some knavish trick at him,
or whether it schemes to overthrow the whole nation by some secret
and unexpected ruin. For this crew swells more and more in number
and is threatening something. But, o great Protector, be You,
I pray, ever watchful, preserve the security of the British. Nor
let that gang, arrogant in the name of Your Son, surpassing all
of its stripe as malefactors, foully prevail over the lives or
the graves of good men.”
Making
these prophecies she piously lingered, her tears welling up. And lo, a
sudden flash of light shot its beams at her downturned
eyes, and slowly raising her bowed head she caught sight of a
lad glowing with star-spangled wings, shining fairer in all his appearance
than human sight or reason can apprehend, and, cheerfully favoring
astonished Religion, he said, “Most holy maiden, do not hasten
to torture your dear mind overmuch by fearing these evils. Your
assiduous prayers have prevailed, our best Father has opened His
ear, the constancy of your chaste prayer convinces Him. The world’s
Creator grants me, come down from highest Olympus, as a watchman
over this realm’s destiny, and over the British King.”
He spoke, and lightly dissipated himself into thin air. Just as
an organ, played in church on a holy day,
resounds as the choir sings, from her heart she sent up a great
celestial hymn; the high walls of the chapel and
its stone monuments thrilled at her grand voice, as she rapturously sang
the praises of the Giver of All, the works of the Almighty,
to be equaled by no sounds. “I sing of you in temples and
on the high mountains, kindly
Father, in the midst of town and in the wilderness of the beasts, there
are no places so isolated that they do not shine
with the marks of Your power or the pledge of Your love.” And then
from dawn to dusk from a grateful heart she poured forth a long
litany of thanks for God’s wonders.
And
while she was recounting His former works, new ones arose, for the goodness
of the great and everlasting Father never sleeps.
The King’s unknowing intuition, guided by a heaven-sent impulse,
prorogued Parliament thanks to a change of mind.
Hence the dark work was disturbed, and the dire excavators broke
it off, unfinished, though their same indefatigable enthusiasm
for mischiefmaking endured, and after the passage of some days
they eagerly returned to their tunneling and threatened the wall.
When our false prophets struck proleptic sparks from the flint
with their picks,
and were suddenly terrified by the great noise, on further inspection
the matter nevertheless proved satisfactory, for they found a vacant
chamber adjacent to the wall. This they rented, and transferred
all the might of sulphur here, mixing chunks of iron in which the
powder and much lumber and coal atop it, and with this collection
of barrels they pretended they were cellaring beer. The work was
accomplished unobserved, and all there hope was safely entrusted
to a place well suited for murderous undertakings.
And now the grim moment for their tremendous stroke was approaching,
and only a brief interval stood between them and their monstrous
designs, when a new suspension of Parliament for several months
(by
royal decree, not without divine inspiration) jarred their self-satisfaction
and shattered their optimistic illusions, as
the sweetest dreams are shattered by the roaring of a gale. Encountering
this rebuff, after taking counsel they slunk off to their individual
hiding-holes. For they believed that if they clung together they
would fall under suspicion, and that darkness was the only thing.
Thus when pirates enclosed in an armed ship, terrible more for
their daring deeds and malevolent nature than for their swollen
numbers, are borne over the main by night, bent on capturing a
hamlet unsuspecting of any deceit, and are blown off by the Easterlies
but often come back out of hope for loot, but just as often stand
off as the winds blow up, and finally go away because they fear
betrayal by the light of day, and hide far off until a suitable
hour for plundering returns, just so our horrible stubborn ruffians
craved our death; they anticipated the flames that were now hidden
under cover, their hearts thirsted for murder. First and foremost,
Fawkes’ concern was for concealment, lest prolonged delay
noise it abroad. Therefore, dispatched, he returned to Belgium
to communicate tidings of the gunpowder scheme to Owen and recruit
Stanley
into the mischief, a deserter who had no hesitation in contributing
his fund of courage to the foul crime, and to give his oath to
the haughty ringleaders in such a way that now they would have
no cause for regretting their action.
Fawkes put Stanley on notice that they should await the initial
conflagration with the auxiliary forces they had promised to send
by sea, then to come to their assistance, quickly joining the ringleaders,
while victory was still offering herself so readily. At the same
time he gave Baldwin letters of Garnet, identifiable by his seal,
since both were Fathers, and also brothers
in this effort. And now both entered into the Roman madness with
equal heartiness - into the crime, the murder, the ruination of
Albion. Likewise a courier was sent from out of England to the
supreme pontiff,
bearing the tale of this holy work, so full of decency, so full
of blessed merit. On an appointed day these sons of Roman piety,
as many as the were, although strewn across the face of the earth
and separated by the wide sea, addressed their divinities with
a common prayer and united complaints. They beseeched that a speedy
return of their ancestral liberty would result from these endeavors,
endeavors
purged of guilt by their flood of tears. In this scant way they sought
to wash clean their filthy desirings, but these
could not be laundered by Ocean’s deep floods and heavy rains.
Fame tells that there are two broad and exceedingly deep lakes,
both
consecrated to the tears of the unhappy. One stands limpid, conspicuous
for its pure waters, and flowers bloom in its banks
the whole year long and also herbs of noble virtue (if it be allowed
to employ them). From here a watchman, sent from the stars, drives
off the divers and screech-owls, and all manner of beasts, for
here the powers of heaven and their winged agents bring rivers
of pious men’s tears and chastely preserve them as memorials
of a sorrow that they cherish. But the other lake can be seen
to be muddied with dark waters, a parent of serpents, raising up small
creatures of horrid aspect, filled with an assortment of lethal
toxins. And on its perimeter it breeds monkshood, aconite, and
maddening nightshade, Sardinian lethum which lays men low with
bitter laughter, and the sweet poison of the Colchian race.
As soon as the evil crew shed their tears, shades of the jealous
Avenger snatched them and brought them here, depositing them to
serve one day as witnesses of their wicked sorrow. And now the
Stygian One saw the new sea of tear-water and crowed at such great
zeal of men hoping for terrible things.
Meanwhile our sacrificial priests strained to move the plot forward,
and the conspirators now enticed more men into their compact: Winter,
superior to his unfortunate brother in years and in wealth, Grant
and like-minded Rookwood, Tresham,
proud with his lands and pedigree, that distinguished knight Digby,
Keyes, and Bates, whom Tesimond
had lately emboldened, though he had been wavering and mentally
quaking at the horrendous felony. They ensnared these men and others
and equipped them for the coming strife with horses and arms, assigning
times and places for these events. They hurried everything along,
for the happy day, undisturbed so far, found pleasure in hastening
forward and, longed for, it drew near. And Fawkes, returning, lavishly
bucked up their hope with support from abroad, and incited the
madmen by praising his mercenaries.
And now the racket of carriages and riders assembling in bands
awoke the sleeping city,
as the people flocked together in solemn wise, summoned from all
corners of the kingdom. Bleachers were set up in the usual spots,
so the commoners might view the procession, and folk of better
estate rented nearby windows at enormous prices. Such was their
love for seeing King, Queen, and you, most beloved prince (while
the Fates allowed);
and there was a great desire to see the Duke, growing towards the
capacity to participate in government, if perchance he should join
their number. The splendor of the churches and the square, and
the venerable antiquity of the realm were worth the seeing in their
own right, and the Peerage, forming a lengthy train with their
caparisoned horses and scarlet robes, were a handsome thing.
But this great glory would have shone forth for the last time in
many a century, if God did not exercise His foresight. The ultimate
peril lay hidden, and a winged being of heaven anticipated it;
at
the instruction of God, Whom alone he obeys, with easy effort he assumed
a human guise, such as could be seen in an anonymous
crowd, the face of a servant, and dress of long cut. Being such,
in the evening he brought sealed letters to Monteagle’s
man, so that he might quickly bear them to his master. Then he
withdrew and retired into thin air. The youth, distinguished in
ancestry, scanned these, as they appeared to portend something
of substance. As neither their author nor the messenger who had
delivered them were identifiable, he hastened to Cecil,
to whom the care of the realm was entrusted, committed the notorious
communication into his privy hands, and, as befitted a Lord, retired
with commendation. Cecil summoned a number of leading men,
since they shared the same responsibilities, and in secret the
provident man discussed what the meaning of this obscure screed
might be. And though great-minded Cecil might scorn such things,
he now stuck to it, pondering its ambiguous sense with a troubled
mind, but without result. God denies this great honor to these
men, reserving it for him alone to whom he grants the scepter.
And
so, exhausted by their effort, as men used to visit Delphi’s
temples, they went to the chambers of a King filled with greater
divine inspiration, such as haughty Greece used to claim for Phoebus.
They produced the writing and begged the assistance and illumination
of his superior wit, this cloud removed. The King took the missive
and pondered on it, scanning it thrice or four times with his keenness
of eye and happy intellect. The missive advised that the Lord keep
absent from Parliament in the morning, for that day would be unhappy
for those present, who would be visited by a terrible stroke, unsuspecting,
though there was no appearance of any disturbances. And, just as
flammable gunpowder, when prepared by the right method, readily
takes the fire when it is applied, so the King, having weighed
these words in due order, understood this powdery deception in
a terrible stroke of revelation. Everyone justly applauded him,
and next they quickly dashed out, so that Parliament’s precincts
might be carefully searched, to find what contrivance might be
visible, or what cause for alarm might lie hidden. And Knyvett,
a well-known knight, was put in charge of the task itself; its
pretext was a search for some garments taken from the Queen by
theft, and the stolen tapestries of the King.
Go to Book II