THE GUNPOWDER PLOT OF 1605
Part One: PROVOCATION
Catholics were considered a threat by the royal court in 16th century
England. Not just a religious threat but a threat to the entire social fabric.
The Church of England, established by Henry VIII and his parliament in 1534 as a
protest against Catholicism, reached deeply into everyday life. Parishes didn’t
just provide spiritual guidance – they provided almost everything else, from
education to refuse collection. Failing to attend Church of England services was
deemed unpatriotic, a dereliction of one’s social obligation and, ultimately,
illegal. This left devout Catholics who were also loyal subjects of the King
facing an agonising dilemma. They had to choose between abandoning their faith
altogether, practising it covertly while, somewhat insincerely, also attending
regular Church of England services, or breaking the law. Needless to say
Catholics were pleading for a law change to enable them to practise their faith
openly.
It wasn’t always like this. Henry VIII had been a pious Catholic himself, so
much so that he penned a strong attack on Luther’s strict Protestantism and was
rewarded for it in 1521 when the Pope appointed him Defender of the (Catholic)
Faith. But then came his marital problems. He needed a male heir to continue his
noble line but his queen wasn’t providing him with one so he appealed to the
Pope for an annulment of his marriage. It was bad timing. In 1527 the Holy Roman
Empire had just over-run Rome, leaving the Papacy largely at the beck and call
of the Emperor. And the Emperor just happened to be the beloved nephew of
Henry’s no longer beloved wife. The Pope declined the annulment.
What happened next is well-known. Henry divorced his wife, was excommunicated
from Catholicism by the Pope, established a new church and in 1534 parliament
passed the Act of Supremacy declaring Henry “the
Supreme Head on Earth of the Church of England”.
He was now the defender of a different
faith – his own. Overnight Catholics became heretics.
Henry set about changing the landscape and denuding the country of any vestige
of the old faith by disbanding every religious house (900 of them), confiscating
property and putting 12,000 monks, canons, friars and nuns out of house and
home. Religious icons, statuary and all forms of religious art were destroyed.
The Church of England had no place for such idolatry. Anyone who demonstrated
allegiance to the Pope could be charged with treason. Public figures and former
religious leaders were required to sign an Oath of Allegiance and when Henry’s
Lord Chancellor Thomas More refused to sign he was executed, becoming the first
of many post-reformation Catholic martyrs. Cardinal John Fisher and many more
followed. The executions began in 1535 when the ink on the legislation enabling
them was barely dry. There were uprisings in subsequent years objecting to the
break with Rome and Henry’s excessive punishments and confiscations.
In 1537 Henry finally succeeded in fathering his first male heir to survive
infancy - the future Edward VI. The progeny was by his third wife after the
first two had produced only one child each to live to adulthood, both girls
(future Queens Mary and Elizabeth). Up till then Henry had lost six sons and two
daughters either as stillbirths or in infancy.
When Henry died in 1547 all eyes were on the regime of his successor. Edward was
a mere nine years old and, continuing Henry’s run of bad luck with male heirs,
only lived to fifteen. But his reign saw major developments in Henry’s church.
Henry had not entirely rejected Catholicism. Much of the doctrine and many
prayers and liturgy were retained. It was the authority of the Pope that irked
Henry. Edward’s team of protectors with the support of the youthful King himself
now moved the church further away from Catholicism and closer to European
Protestantism. The changes were fixed in place by the Act of Uniformity (1549),
an act which also introduced a Book of Common Prayer and abolished the use of
Latin. Any priest who failed to follow prescribed services was punished by
imprisonment and loss of income. The reaction of the non-Catholic people was
mixed – some traditionalists felt the changes went too far while many zealots
wanted every last vestige of Catholic practice, such as the wearing of
vestments, to follow abbeys, monasteries, church art and papal authority into
total oblivion.
But England’s headlong rush towards Protestantism came to a sudden halt in 1553
with the death (by tuberculosis) of the teenage King Edward, Henry’s long
sought-after son and heir. The throne passed to Henry’s oldest surviving child
Mary despite Edward’s youthful attempt to prevent it. Edward’s problem was that
Mary was born long before Henry’s church even existed and was raised strictly in
the Catholic faith by Henry’s second wife (Anne Boleyn) and, ironically, Henry
himself. Mary’s later marriage into the Catholic Spanish royal family reinforced
her faith. Henry’s Church and Edward’s laws appeared doomed.
As might be expected, when Mary ascended to the throne the anti-Catholic laws
were gone by lunchtime. She had always rejected her father’s break with Rome and
detested still more the move towards Protestantism by her half-brother’s
regents. But relegating the Church of England to the underground status
Catholics had suffered under Henry and Edward was not so simple. While her law
changes placed the Church of England under Papal jurisdiction this had required
intense negotiations and a degree of compromise. The agreement, reached by Mary,
parliament, Church of England leaders and the Pope, benefitted the Catholic
church enormously but still left the confiscated church property in the hands of
their new owners. In fact Mary’s relationship with the Vatican wavered at times.
The Pope was a fervent supporter of France and France wasn’t impressed with the
marriage between Mary and Spain’s future King Phillip. And when Mary declared
war on France in retaliation for them assisting a private army’s invasion of
England (as a protest over the royal marriage), the friendship between Mary and
the Pope hit the rocks.
Queen Mary I, turned England into an authoritarian Catholic country – but not
for long.
It goes without saying that the majority of the people, still largely Church of
England adherents, were incensed. A strong anti-Catholic movement developed
underground and became widespread. They were concerned that the Pope might be
seeking secular power over England in alliance with France, or even Spain, both
long-standing enemies of England. And Mary had openly declared herself loyal to
the Pope despite retaining her title as Head of the Church of England. A deep
division between the faiths remained.
In 1555 Henry Garnet was born. He would be the major link between the Catholic
Jesuit priesthood and the gunpowder plotters.
When Mary died in 1558 there was no debate over her successor. Nor was there any
doubt over her successor’s religious affiliation. Elizabeth had been born into
the Church of England just as her father was busy establishing it and just
months before the passing of the Act of Supremacy. She was destined to remain
loyal throughout her life. So, for the second time, religion was turned on its
head. Mary’s reign was a mere blip on the anti-Catholic radar.
Elizabeth was not ruthless, at least not yet. She settled for a compromise,
combining the use of the Book of Common Prayer with some practices of Catholic
origin in her 1559 Acts of Settlement and Uniformity. It wasn’t so much
deferring to Catholicism as maintaining an English church with an identity
distinct from European Protestantism. But Catholics had no easy ride. Attending
Mass was punishable by a fine and although priests could be subjected to the
death penalty for saying Mass leniency was shown if worship remained private.
Everybody was again required by law to attend Church of England services.
In 1560 Thomas Percy was born. He was destined to serve as a staff member of the
Earl of Northumberland which would give him a direct link to the House of Lords.
He himself was a distant cousin of Northumberland and was also descended from a
previous Earl, Henry Percy. Percy’s position would be of immense value to the
gunpowder plotters. It entitled him to hire rooms conveniently close to
Westminster, including the infamous cellar situated below the Parliament
building itself where the gunpowder could be placed.
In 1565 Robert Keyes was born. He would become known to and trusted by the
leader of the plotters and would be employed as a caretaker at the Westminster
house used to store the gunpowder.
Mary, Queen of Scots
The arrival in England from Scotland of Mary Queen of Scots in 1568 lit a fuse
under any semblance of religious tolerance in England. In fact it could be
claimed that the seeds of the gunpowder plot were planted right then. Acceding
to the Scottish throne as an infant, Mary was forced to abdicate due to a series
of bad choices (mostly involving marriage) and flee to England. There she sought
the protection of Elizabeth. There was a family relationship – both were
descended from Elizabeth’s grandfather Henry VII and were thus first cousins
once removed. But there were major complications. Mary was Catholic. She married
the future King of France and was Queen Consort during his brief reign. France
and England were enemies. After the death of the French King she returned to
Scotland. But Scotland too was torn between Catholic and Protestant factions and
John Knox’s followers were a major threat. She considered England a safer option
now that she was no longer on
the Scottish throne. But due to her strong connection with France she was not
welcome in England either. Her presence there was seen as a serious threat to
Elizabeth and her court. An uprising against the throne could gather around Mary
and support from France wouldn’t be far away. Elizabeth’s welcome to Mary
therefore was not of the open arms variety – it was fourteen years confined (for
her “protection”) in Sheffield Castle. Not uncomfortably, it must be stressed,
but she was then moved to less congenial surroundings in other castles for a
further four years.
Mary Queen of Scots - a thorn in Elizabeth's side
Many English Catholics felt that Mary should have preceded Elizabeth onto the
English throne as the senior surviving legitimate descendant of Henry VII.
Elizabeth was illegitimate under Catholic law. Failing that, they thought Mary
should definitely be next in line for the monarchy but Elizabeth had ruled that
out. The clouds of radical Catholic rebellion loomed.
While Mary was confined “for her protection”, John and Christopher Wright,
Robert and Thomas Wintour, Guy Fawkes, John Grant, Robert Catesby, Stephen and
Humphrey Littleton, Everard Digby and Ambrose Rookwood were all born and
destined to play various roles in the gunpowder plot.
Mary’s incarceration was the spark that set off a succession of Catholic
attempts to have Elizabeth removed. Catholicism was widespread in the north,
especially among the aristocracy and the first rebellion was carried out in 1569
by an elite group of northerners. It was dubbed the Rising of the North and its
lofty aim was to raise enough nationwide support to install Mary on the throne.
Durham was occupied but the rebels failed to attract the support they hoped for
and when a combined army of 22,000 was mobilised against them they, wisely,
retreated to Scotland. Elizabeth was not amused. 750 plotters were tracked down
and executed in reprisal along with
many northern villagers, most of them Catholic.
Now the Pope was not amused. The recently concluded Council of Trent had
deepened the divide between the two faiths. The Pope (Pius V) was determined to
assert his church’s identity and its power. Hearing of the rising in the north
and believing it had succeeded, he took the unprecedented step of
excommunicating Elizabeth as a heretic and warned all Catholics they too would
be excommunicated if they obeyed the Queen’s orders to attend non-Catholic
services. He also declared that Elizabeth was not the rightful queen and should
be deposed. This was unbelievably harsh. The Queen, her government and Church of
England leaders had made modest attempts to accommodate Catholic beliefs. Until
the Pope’s intervention many Catholics had been worshipping with their
non-Catholic neighbours out of loyalty to the Queen. They were devastated to
hear of her excommunication. Many now felt torn between respect and devotion to
the Queen and loyalty to the Pope.
Following the Pope’s extreme pronouncements Queen Elizabeth, not surprisingly,
retaliated. The gloves were off. Jesuit priests were forced to leave the country
(some stayed and went into hiding), and even just attempting to convert English
subjects away from their allegiance to the Queen became a treasonable offence.
Spurred on by such a draconian step fanatical Catholics now became more venomous
in their determination to plot Elizabeth’s demise. A string of increasingly
treasonous plots followed. The Ridolfi plot (1571) featured a plan for Spanish
troops to invade England. The Throckmorton plot (1583) invited in a French army
with financial support from Spain and the Pope. Both plots were foiled by the
Queen’s network of spies and informers. But with unfriendly countries on all
sides, Catholic Ireland a stone’s throw away and discontent within, the Queen
now felt extraordinarily vulnerable. And even more so when an event in France
showed what carnage a Catholic mob was capable of foisting on its fellow
citizens. The notorious 1572 Bartholomew’s Day massacre resulted in the deaths
of thousands of Huguenots (Calvanist Protestants). This only added to the
perceived Catholic threat in England.
More plots to rid England of its Protestant Queen lay ahead. Throckmorton was
followed by the even more ominous Babington Plot (1586) which rightly or wrongly
implicated Mary Queen of Scots herself. She was thought to have at least
knowledge of the previous plots. Babington aimed big – destroy not just the
Queen but also, in an ominous foretaste of the gunpowder plot, the entire
Government, including Catholics. It was Mary’s final downfall – Anthony
Babington (raised secretly as Catholic but also a one-time insider at
Elizabeth’s court) had written letters to Mary advising her of the plot. The
letters were intercepted. Mary’s replies were non-committal but her mere
knowledge could have justified her execution. Elizabeth had been urged by her
advisors to execute Mary after the earlier plots but was reluctant as she
doubted her complicity (remember, they were cousins). Babington left her little
choice. Mary was beheaded on February 8, 1587.
Elizabeth's defeat of the Armada demonstrated the dominance of English sea power over Catholic Spain
Elizabeth’s failing health did not stop yet another rebellion in 1601: the work
of Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex. The
Earl was somewhat peeved that he had been punished for a failed military
campaign in Ireland and lost the Queen’s favour having earlier been one of her
poster-boys in court. His plan to overthrow Elizabeth’s government was foiled
just as the others had been and, predictably, he was executed. The Essex
rebellion is particularly relevant as it involved several gunpowder plotters.
Robert Catesby, mentioned earlier, was now 29. He had been born (ominously) in
the same year of the Bartholomew’s Day massacre. His father had resolutely
practised the Catholic faith in Protestant England and spent years in prison for
it. A relative was executed in 1584 for his involvement in an attempt to free
Mary Queen of Scots. Robert himself served time in prison in 1588 for political
agitation at the time of the Spanish Armada when he was only 16. It is not
surprising that he felt the sting of religious discrimination. He first dipped
his toe into organised protest by joining the Essex rebellion and only narrowly
escaped execution. His reputation grew among other Catholic rebels of which, by
now, there were many. He was destined to devise and lead the gunpowder plot.
Change was in the wind. Elizabeth died on 24 March, 1603 and was succeeded by
James VI of Scotland. Elizabeth had no descendants and James’ entitlement to the
English throne was through his great-grandmother Margaret Tudor, Henry VIII’s
sister. James was the son of Mary Queen of Scots and the Catholic lobby had
already made excursions to Scotland to sound out James VI’s plans when he would
became James I of England and reign over both realms.
One to make this excursion was Thomas Percy, sent by his employer the Earl of
Northumberland, a Catholic sympathiser, to Scotland to plead with James to be
more tolerant with Catholics on attaining the monarchy.
James had been born and baptised Catholic but raised Presbyterian in Scotland
and now as King of England favoured the English church. He did initially appear
to be more accommodating with Catholics. Fines previously imposed on the general
laity were relaxed and, more significantly, he made overt attempts to reconcile
with Catholic Spain, England’s traditional enemy since long before the Armada.
James was somewhat hamstrung in that many of Elizabeth’s protestant ministers
were still in place and they were determined to prevent England from ever
becoming a Catholic country again. James didn’t want to go that far either. His
security forces targeted radical priests, missionaries and Jesuits in
particular, and any lay person who sheltered them. He was generally tolerant
with the rest of the Catholic community.
James was a very different monarch from the string of Tudors before him. The
first Stuart King, his Scottish accent, his un-Tudor ramshackle demeanour, his
support for Puritanism, his attempts to reconcile England with France and Spain
– combined to make England a little uneasy and the Catholic community somewhat
confused. To add to their confusion, James appointed the Earl of Northumberland,
a man with strong Catholic sympathies, to his Privy Council.
No longer strictly forced to attend the English church, many former Catholics
who had turned away out of loyalty to the crown were now coming back (a much
frowned-on practice called recusancy). This made James uneasy. Within twelve
months Elizabeth’s crippling laws would again be enforced and in a short time
over 5,000 people had been convicted of recusancy which had by now become a
punishable offence. The penalty could be a fine, property confiscation or
imprisonment. James had clearly become paranoid and some of the more radical
Catholics no longer trusted him, if they ever did. Remember, though, that the
vast majority of Catholics in England were law-abiding and were treated
leniently if they were discovered covertly practising their faith. But our story
is not about them. It’s a group of firebrand, frustrated and devout Catholics
who hated the laws that we’ll be following. This group, all men, had the luxury
of leisure time and, in most cases, were the products of well known
property-owning Catholic families.
Even before the King’s July coronation another set of plotters were at work. In
a two-fold operation, planned and led by English courtiers with financial
support from the Spanish Government, James was to be kidnapped and new Privy
Councillors with Catholic sympathies recruited. The second stage was to replace
James on the throne altogether. The headless Mary Queen of Scots was no longer a
replacement option but there was another candidate in Arbella Stuart, James’s
cousin and Elizabeth’s cousin twice removed. She had clear rights to the throne
through descent and had indeed been a candidate to succeed Elizabeth. Moreover,
unlike James she had been born in England and, as a niece of Mary Queen of Scots
would surely have Catholic sympathies. But the plan was short-lived. Arbella was
given a letter advising of the plot but thought it so ridiculous she laughingly
showed it to the King. The perpetrators were tried but somehow spared execution.
The famed explorer Walter Raleigh had been peripherally involved. Yet another
plot had been foiled.
By 1603 Thomas Percy was furious. He had visited Scotland three times the
previous year and had received a promise from the future King that Catholic
worship would be tolerated when he came to the throne in England. Now that he
was here he was denying he’d made such a promise and things had not got better -
they had got worse. To add insult to injury, Percy was being pilloried by his
fellow Catholics for “deceiving them” with false promises. He was desperate to
find someone to share his anger with. He sought out Robert Catesby. He had never
met him but was aware of his involvement in the Essex rebellion. Percy himself
was indebted to the Earl of Essex for earlier favours and had supported him in a
conspiracy though not in the actual rebellion. In June, 1603 he decided to call
on Catesby at his Northamptonshire home to introduce himself and expostulate
over James. He told Catesby he was “ready to kill the King with my own hands.”
Catesby restrained him by indicating something “surer” was being planned. This
is the first recorded reference to the gunpowder plot.
The attempt to install Arbella Stuart on the throne unnerved King James. Any
vestige of his desire to accommodate Catholics vanished and within a year all
Romanist priests were exiled from the kingdom. Egged on by the Puritans in his
administration the King now re-affirmed and brutally applied the previous
anti-Catholic laws. The laws were indeed restrictive and discriminatory and a
recap is justified. Surveyed in their entirety they required that all English
citizens:
The penalties ranged from fines and forfeiture of property to imprisonment and
execution. Plotting to dethrone, harm or kill a Monarch had been high treason
for centuries and carried a certain death penalty.
King James I, principal target of the Gunpowder Plot
Parliament and James’s court argued that the laws were justified. There had been
multiple treasonous plots and the whole country was jittery. And hostile
neighbours loomed on all sides itching to re-impose Catholicism. Strangling the
faith from within was England’s best defence.
End of Part One.
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