The Fifth of November Part 26

Those who watched with Fawkes said he partook of no food, slept not--neither spoke, and refused to utter the names of his fellow conspirators. He sat all day in his cell without moving. At times there came into his drawn and haggard face a strange and unearthly light, as though he suddenly beheld a form glide from out the shadow of the dungeon, and kneel beside him. At these moments he would stretch forth his arms as if to embrace the airy figure of his brain, and whisper, nodding his head slowly the while: "Thou wert all I had--in a moment, darling;--wait until thy father can but pa.s.s this dreary portal."

They put him to the rack, but elicited nothing. He endured the torture as though scarce feeling it; and even in agony, was heard to mutter: "In a moment, my little one--but a moment more."

His trial, with that of the others implicated in the plot, was over.

The sentence of death had been p.r.o.nounced upon each. Three days after, Everard Digsby, with Robert Winter and Grant, met death by hanging in the churchyard of St. Paul's. Three remained awaiting the headsman's axe--Thomas Winter, Keyes and Guido Fawkes.

Their execution was antic.i.p.ated by the populace of London with unwonted eagerness. The desire of the people to see justice meted to those whom they deemed the prime movers in a conspiracy which had shaken England to its foundation, was only rivaled by the curiosity resident in each heart, to behold the one who, with undaunted nerve, had stood beneath the House of Lords ready to fire the mine which would rob the kingdom at one fell blow of both its monarch and Parliament.

In that age public executions were signals for general holidays; people flocked from the most distant shires, decked in best attire, to witness the doing to death of some poor malefactor. But this was no ordinary occasion; and, as if to emphasize the fact, a great throng had a.s.sembled at Westminster even before the sun arose, on the day set apart for the beheading of the remaining three conspirators.

At an early hour companies of halberdiers were forced to exercise their authority in keeping the crowd at proper distance from the ominous structure erected in the middle of the square. The object about which this innumerable concourse of people gathered was a high platform covered with black cloth, in the center of which stood the block. The condemned men had been brought from the Tower shortly after midnight, and were now lodged in the s.p.a.ce beneath the scaffold, which had been converted into a kind of closed pen.

The hour for the execution was eleven, and as the time approached the mult.i.tude gradually swelled, being increased by thousands; as though some pitiless monster were fattening itself upon thoughts of the blood so soon to be shed.

Again and again the pikemen were forced to thrust back the surging ma.s.s, and at last the soldiers did not hesitate to use their weapons as the throng forced its way up to the very ropes surrounding the scaffold. But now above the babel of tongues the great bell of the Cathedral boomed out the hour of eleven. As its last note died away the roar of voices gradually subsided, until it sunk into a dull murmur of expectancy, but again it broke forth into a cheer as the headsman ascended the stairs leading to the scaffold. This man was popular with the rabble and noted for his dexterity and strength. As the applause greeted him he recognized the homage rendered with a bow.

His was a gruesome figure, as, attired in the costume of the office, his features concealed by a scarlet mask, he leaned easily upon the handle of the glittering axe--and waited.

Soon four soldiers, under command of an officer, approached the door of the inclosure and stood two on either side with halberds reversed.

A moment of breathless stillness followed; the portal opened and one victim was led forth. Surrounded by guards he was solemnly conducted to the foot of the steps leading to the block. Keyes, for it was he, ascended without aid, and reached the platform. A murmur of disappointment ran through the mult.i.tude as he came into view, for they had supposed Fawkes would be the first to die.

The man for an instant stood quite still; he had been the first of the little procession to reach the top, and seemed undecided which direction to take, but only for a moment stood he thus; two of the guards quickly approached and led him toward the center of the scaffold. He knelt without a.s.sistance, laid his cheek upon the block, his right shoulder resting in the notch fastened for its reception.

The soldiers retired. The headsman drew back, swiftly raised the axe above his head, measured the distance with a practiced eye, and struck.

The favorite of the rabble had again acquitted himself well. The head of the victim fell on one side of the block, the quivering trunk sinking to the floor upon the other. A cheer greeted the deed, then silence once more fell upon the mult.i.tude. Some soldiers now appeared carrying a box of sand. They quickly ascended the steps and scattered its contents upon the wet boards. Having finished, one of the men seized the head which still lay where it had fallen, fixed it upon the point of his pike and stuck the weapon with its gruesome burden upon the railing. The headless trunk was flung without ceremony into a cart which was in waiting.

Again the procession formed; once more a victim knelt; the axe fell, and another head stared down upon the throng below.

A ripple of expectancy again broke forth. Two had died; the next must be the one for whom they waited. All strained their necks in eagerness to catch the first glimpse as he should be led forth, and this was the sight for which they had longed:--

A man unable to stand alone; his form, weakened by torture and sickness, was dragged up the steps and stood confronting them. His arms were not bound, for they hung lifeless. Those who stood near could understand the absence of fetters; there was nothing upon which to clasp them, save a ma.s.s of crushed bones, in many places stripped of flesh by the cruel cords of the rack. He seemed quite oblivious of his surroundings, turned his head neither to the right nor to the left, but gazed past the headsman--past his captors--and far beyond the sea of upturned faces. His lips were seen to move, but only those who supported him could catch the words:--"In a moment, my little one!" he whispered; "thy father will soon kiss thy sweet lips--and then--we will love each other, and in that love forget all----"

They hurried him toward the block and were obliged to place his head upon it; his weakness was so great that he would have fallen had they not supported him. His guards drew back, the axe, already lifted, was about to descend, when, the poor limp figure slipped and fell with a thud to the floor, unable to save itself by reason of the uselessness of the arms. Again he was lifted; once more the axe was raised, and even in that moment they heard him whisper the name ever upon his lips:

"Elinor!"--Crash!--and he was away to clasp her to his breast.

CONCLUSION.

Of Henry Garnet something remains to be said. The alarm which was felt at the revelation of the treason which might, but for the arrest of Fawkes in the cellar under Parliament House, have resulted in the disruption of the government, was widespread, and it became necessary for the Jesuits remaining in the kingdom to hide most secretly.

As Catesby had said, the Superior, upon leaving London some weeks before the discovery of the plot, had taken refuge in the house of Sir Everard Digsby at Coughton. 'Twas there he received a letter from one of the conspirators announcing the failure of the enterprise to which he had lent himself. For three weeks he remained in hiding, when, by night, and in disguise, he was removed to Hendlip House, where with another of his Order, and two servants, he escaped for a time the diligent search inst.i.tuted by Salisbury, and urged on by the King.

On the twentieth of January following the fatal Fifth of November, Sir Henry Bromley, a magistrate, arrived with an armed force at Hendlip, being in possession of a commission to search the mansion. The house was full of secret apartments, and for seven days the King's officer looked in vain for the Superior of the Jesuits. But on the eighth a soldier, chancing upon a room occupied by one of the women of the place, discovered in an aperture of the chimney a reed pipe, which excited his curiosity and suspicion.

Hearing of the matter, Sir Bromley followed the clew thus given him, and behind the wall, in a secret chamber, came upon Garnet and his companion, Oldcorne, who, since the coming of the authorities, had been fed through the reed with broths and warm drinks.

Taken to London, the Superior of the Jesuits was treated kindly. Many examinations were given him, nor was torture resorted to in his case, though Oldcorne was put to the rack. Through all Garnet divulged nothing, and there had been some likelihood of escape, for the King was kindly disposed, had not a trick resorted to by the government resulted in his undoing. Allowed to hold communication with the unfortunate Oldcorne, a watch was stationed behind the wall of the cell, and such conversation as pa.s.sed between the churchmen was taken down. The facts thus revealed hurried Garnet to his doom.

His trial was held late in March, and although he defended himself ably, the evidence of his having been a party to treason was conclusive. Through all he maintained that, though cognizant of the design to blow up the House of Parliament, he had taken no active part with the conspirators. Holding that the secret had come to him through sacramental confession, he affirmed that, by his faith, he was bound to disclose nothing concerning it. The trial ended with the sentence that he follow in the footsteps of Fawkes, Winter and those others who had met death upon the scaffold. Even then, the King, loth to see executed so famous a prelate, stayed for a time the hand of the axeman. 'Twas not till the third day of May, three months after the death of his former companions, that Garnet died--the last of those unfortunate men who sought to gain their ends by violence.

THE END.