Only a person as passionate as Catesby and with such a flair for igniting the enthusiasm of others could possibly have secured support for this outlandish plan. But on hearing of it two other men quickly promised their full support. The two were his closest friend John Wright and his cousin Thomas Wintour, both fanatical in their faith and equally bitter over James’s anti-Catholic laws. The three met in March, 1604 at Catesby’s Lambeth home. It was the beginning of the conspiracy.

Was the room buzzing with excitement? No. Wright and Wintour knew that if the plan failed not only would those involved face certain execution but the King would retaliate and English Catholics would labour under even more brutal laws. But Wright trusted Catesby. They had spent time in prison together over the Essex rebellion three years earlier. Wintour was initially reluctant, expressing concern for their fellow Catholics some of whom would die in the explosion. But the idea of the uprising and the possibility that foreign support could yet be secured for it fired his enthusiasm. This was an area of intense interest to Wintour – he had made several trips to Europe, pleading unsuccessfully for Spanish authorities to support a Catholic uprising in England (remember the Armada?). After careful thought and some prodding from Wright, he assured Catesby of his support.

It was a good start for Catesby. He knew he would need to choose his co-conspirators with the utmost care. Betrayal was almost certain if anyone opted out.

Thomas Wintour would be a useful member of the team. He was employed in the household of Lord Monteagle, a man with Catholic connections in the House of Lords. Although brought up in a Catholic family Wintour had abandoned the faith and taken up a military career. He fought bravely for his country against the Turks but mainly in the Netherlands against Catholic Spain. By 1600 he had changed sides and converted back to Catholicism. He quickly became radicalised and grasped the chance offered by his employer Monteagle to seek support from Spain to relieve English Catholics of the discrimination and persecution they faced. For this he became a person of interest to the King’s spies.

Monteagle would once again authorise Wintour to travel to Spain and ask more urgently for help. “Catholics are dying in England,” Wintour would despairingly plead to Hugh Owen, a member of a secret spy network who had close contacts within the Spanish court. There was no mention of gunpowder but Owen was derisive of the idea of a Spanish invasion to support an uprising in England. Spain was by now negotiating a peace agreement with King James. There was a vague chance that Spain would require England to move towards Catholic toleration as part of the agreement but nobody was holding their breath. Owen did, however, introduce Wintour to an English Catholic soldier who had been in the Spanish Netherlands for ten years fighting for Spain against the Protestant-held northern area of the Netherlands. The soldier had also tried unsuccessfully to secure support from Spain for English Catholics and would be interested to hear of any Catholic plan for an uprising within England itself. Wintour invited him to return to England with him. His name was Guy Fawkes.

As a fervent Catholic. school friend of John Wright and with military experience handling gunpowder, Fawkes was an ideal recruit. He had been out of the country for ten years so his face would be unfamiliar to the authorities.

One other person joined the plotters before the full plan was finalised. Thomas Percy, the man who had earlier told Catesby he was “ready to kill the King with my own hands” quickly jumped on board when given the opportunity. Like Wintour, he too worked in the household of a member of the House of Lords, the Earl of Northumberland - a Catholic sympathiser although not a Catholic himself. Percy was distantly related to the Earl and both were part of a powerful and wealthy family owning multiple estates in the north of the country.

The time had come to formalise the plan. On 20 May, 1604 at the Duck and Drake tavern just off the Strand in London, Catesby, Wright, Wintour, Percy and Fawkes met and swore on the bible to maintain total secrecy. All shared Catesby’s fanatical illusion that their evil act was justifiable on religious grounds. They celebrated with a Mass said for them by a Jesuit priest who happened to be on the premises. Father John Gerard was known to the plotters but, clearly, had no idea what they were praying for.

Gerard was one of an ever-increasing number of Jesuit priests operating illegally and covertly in England, led by the charismatic and hardworking Henry Garnet. Garnet was initially one of only two Jesuits in the country and after the death of his superior became the only one. Before long there were forty. Their mission, mandated by the world Jesuit leader and the Pope, was to encourage “Church Papists” to fully rejoin the church as recusants (fully restored Catholics). It was a monumental challenge and rendered more complex by a group of Catholic priests known as “Appellants”,  who were prepared to accept the Church’s minority status and encouraged all Catholics to adhere to the law of the land and practise their faith in private. The appellants, themselves a minority within the Catholic clergy, distrusted the Jesuits.

The Jesuit priests knew they were targeted men, and law-breakers. The King’s spy networks were convinced that, if any rebellious activity was being planned, the Jesuits were going to be behind it. This was far from true. As recently as 1603 Garnet had encouraged other priests to expose the plot to kidnap King James mentioned in Part One, and was regularly exhorting Catholics not to engage in violence. More will be said about Garnet later when he and his colleague Oswald Tesimond (aka Greenway) become deeply involved, and implicated, in the plot. When the plotters first assembled Catesby had never met Garnet. His regular confessor was Father Tesimond.

Catesby believed that in formulating his plan he was doing God’s will and it would be many months before he sought spiritual counselling on the matter. At this moment he was concerned with more practical issues, like gathering gunpowder covertly and storing it in his London house. Gunpowder was readily available – he had multiple contacts and large quantities were left over from the recent war with France. Keeping it secure while he was absent and residing at his regular homestead in the Midlands was another matter. He would need a servant to mind the London house. In October, 1604 Catesby appointed Robert Keyes to this role, a trusted friend who, like him, detested King James. Keyes faithfully promised to keep the secret but reminded the plotters that his wife was employed by a Catholic member of the House of Lords, Baron Henry Mordaunt, as a governess for his children. He urged the plotters to warn him to stay away from parliament on opening day but Catesby scorned the idea, believing Mordaunt couldn’t be trusted. He reminded Keyes that Percy was in a similar situation with Northumberland, as indeed was Wintour with Monteagle. Keyes relented, swore his oath and became the sixth gunpowder plotter. Catesby had another reason to involve him. His connection with the Mordaunt estate in the Midlands would provide a much-needed supply of horses for the uprising.

Now that Keyes was on board and responsible for the stored gunpowder they could turn their minds to the rather trickier challenge of getting it to the House of Lords and finding somewhere to hide it. As a recently appointed court insider, Thomas Percy was entitled to a house in London. A place conveniently located close to the House of Lords was allocated to him and Guy Fawkes was installed there, posing as Percy’s servant under the name of John Johnson. They were now one important step closer to their target.

Robert Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, the King’s chief minister.

The extent of his knowledge of the plot has never been resolved. What did he know and when did he know it?

John Wright’s brother Christopher had joined the plotters early in the year when it was thought more hands were needed to dig a tunnel. As there was no longer any need for a tunnel the group was, for the moment, a little over-staffed but the extra men would eventually be needed when the operation moved to the Midlands for the uprising. This aspect of the plot was the subject of a tightly closeted meeting at Ashby-St Ledgers where Catesby outlined more details of his post-explosion plan of action.

The “plot room” in the gatehouse attached to Ashby-St. Ledgers mansion where Catesby and his fellow-conspirators did most of their planning. It was far enough removed from the mansion to remain secret. It was located in Northamptonshire just north of Daventry.

The Ashby-St Ledgers meeting proceeded and Catesby outlined the full plan. The plotters would leave London on horseback on or just before 5 November and assemble in the Coventry area, 100 miles northwest of London. A large band of armed men would have already gathered, masquerading as a “hunting party”. They would be “hunting” King James’s nine-year-old daughter. Princess Elizabeth was to be kidnapped from her Coombe Abbey residence close by and carefully looked after while chaos spread through the area following news of the King’s assassination. The area was heavily populated with Catholics and the plotters would gather support for a popular uprising. In due course the captured princess would be installed on the throne with a Catholic sympathiser as Protector. Elizabeth was third in line for the throne. Her two brothers (Henry, 12 and Charles, 5) would probably be present in parliament and if so would die. If not, the plan was for Percy to kidnap them in London.

It was an outrageously ambitious plan to say the least, and not just on account of the kidnappings. Horses, weapons, ammunition and other supplies had to be amassed for the uprising so still more people would be needed. Several had already been shoulder-tapped and were now being added to the ever-increasing band of conspirators. An obvious candidate was John Grant. He was related to the Wintour family by marriage and lord of the manor at Norbrook, a mansion in Warwickshire thirty miles east of Ashby-St Ledgers. He was taken on to provide supplies and generally rally support in the Midlands. Like the others he was a fervent Catholic and well known to Catesby. Participation in the Essex Rebellion was already on his CV. He could now add the Gunpowder Plot.

Grant’s role included obtaining and storing guns and ammunition and also to gather horses including rare war horses from Warwick Castle, just six miles north of Norbrook. More importantly, he was allocated the crucial and dangerous task of leading a small squad from the hunting party to abduct the young Princess. Catesby knew he could be trusted with this. His mansion at Norbrook had been used to secrete priests and Grant was known to be brave and ruthless when acting in defence of his religion. He instantly welcomed Catesby’s plan and his role in it. At the time Grant joined the circle Thomas Wintour’s older brother Robert was also recruited.

As 1605 ticked slowly by Catesby was examining his conscience. He had devised the plan confident that any violent action carried out to protect and preserve God’s church was not just legitimate but carried with it the Pope’s blessing. Just look at the church’s own history! But now that the day was drawing nearer he began asking himself, what would God think?

Catesby had been introduced to Henry Garnet, the head of the English Jesuit order, in June, 1605, by Anne Vaux. Vaux and Catesby were trusted friends (there may have been a family relationship) and Garnet was frequently accommodated at Vaux’s house outside London. Vaux had no direct knowledge of the plot but with intuition and her ear to the ground she was known to have secretly warned certain people that something bad might happen at the opening of parliament.

Henry Garnet. The confidential “seal of confession” embroiled him and other Jesuit priests in the Gunpowder Plot

Regardless of Garnet’s urging, Catesby was never going to abandon the plan. His confession to the priests was to clear his own conscience. He had been given absolution. But he knew divulging the essence of the plot to them had put them in danger.

The plot continued. Ambrose Rookwood, descended from a family whose tenure of Stanningfield in Suffolk dated back to the days of Edward I, was next to stumble into it. He should have been one of the first. He was a close friend of Catesby’s; had seen both his own parents imprisoned for their staunch Catholic faith and fined multiple times, was yet another imprisoned Essex veteran, and Robert Keyes was his wife’s cousin. He was also a breeder of some of the finest horses in the land and had contacts with suppliers of ammunition. And he was wealthy. A perfect candidate on all fronts and yet his entry into the group was more by chance than by design. It was Catesby’s attempt to obtain gunpowder from him that led to his recruitment. Rookwood only found out why he wanted it by accident.

So then there were eleven.

It was still not enough. They needed a man of high status and influence to lead the recruitment drive for the mass rebellion. And the “hunting party” would need a strong leader as they scoured the country for armed recruits. Sir Everard Digby was the man.

Digby’s parents had been Catholic but allowed their son to be raised Protestant, presumably so, unlike them, he could worship openly. The young Digby was helped by Jesuit priest John Gerard when he was seriously ill and soon afterwards converted to Catholicism. He was a cousin of Anne Vaux. His marriage to Mary Mulshaw brought Gayhurst House in Buckinghamshire, along with a small fortune, into the already wealthy family. A secret chapel was built at Gayhurst. Their chaplain, often hidden in priest holes, was another Jesuit, Father Edward Oldcorne. By this point Everard Digby had become recklessly indignant over the need to practise his faith in secret.

Digby was no commoner. He had frequented Elizabeth’s court before his marriage and left it afterwards to manage Gayhurst and other estates. He purchased even more property in Great Missenden and in 1603 was honoured by King James with a knighthood.

Catesby had never met Sir Everard but he knew of him through Anne Vaux.  On 21 October, 1605 Catesby, Digby, Anne Vaux and Henry Garnet were together at a Catholic feast-day pilgrimage and celebration. Catesby, desperate for money and a high-profile figure to lead the rebellion, grasped the opportunity to take Digby aside and invite him to join a party of Catholics plotting against the King. As Digby had been earmarked quite early for the task of leading the recruitment drive it could be asked, as an aside, why was he not approached until 21 October – just fifteen days before “D-Day”. And it was less than a month since the previous participant, Ambrose Rookwood, had come on board. The answer, presumably, was secrecy. The Midlands was a hotbed of gossip and was swarming with spies.

It is not known how much Digby was told other than that a plan to dethrone the King was in the offing. Catesby explained that the project was costing money and the original plotters had been funding it from their own resources. Digby was initially shocked. Like Bates, he demanded to know if the Jesuits had sanctioned the plan, or at least declared it to be the lesser of two evils. Catesby, recklessly and falsely, told him that he would demonstrate the church’s approval when the group on the feast-day pilgrimage returned to Digby’s home at Gayhurst. The undertaking was quickly forgotten when Catesby expressed concern that Digby’s Gayhurst base was too far away from the proposed action. He suggested he could lease Coughton Court in the Midlands and assemble a hunting party there whose task would be to lead the uprising. They would also kidnap Princess Elizabeth with a view to eventually place her on the throne. Having been reassured that he would play no part in any gruesome action in London, Digby appears to have agreed to participate. As a staunch Catholic, organising a hunting party of armed men on horseback to lead a crusader-like rebellion on behalf of his church was a role he would eventually warm to. And when told he might also be directly involved with the kidnapping he voiced no objection.

As a parting shot, Catesby succeeded in dissuading Digby from confessing to Oldcorne what he had agreed to undertake. Had he done so he would have found out the true Jesuit opinion. And the true Jesuit position was very clear - no violence!!

There is no knowing how many, if any, of the conspirators had divulged details of the gunpowder plot in the privacy and total confidentiality of the Catholic confessional box. What is clear is that at least two priests, Fathers Tesimond and Garnet, knew of the plot, had failed to prevent it, and had not reported it. As English-born subjects of the King, they were bound by the laws of the land. Misprision of treason (failure to report it) was unlawful. Their only defence was the sacred and inviolable seal of confession which they knew would be scorned by their prosecutors. It was a cruel dilemma – break the seal or break the law.

Garnet also had the safety of his fellow Jesuits to consider, knowing the grave danger they would be in if the plot was discovered or betrayed. He wanted Catesby’s sinful plan stopped. The seal prevented him telling Catesby he knew of the whole plan. All he could do was continue to vaguely urge Catesby not to engage in any violent action. In an attempt to placate Garnet Catesby promised that he would seek a ruling from the Pope himself on whether violence, including killing, could be justified if it was the only possible means to protect the holy church. It was a hollow promise as Catesby knew the King would be dead by the time his question was considered and responded to. But Garnet, with more direct channels, was able to exhort the Pope to take action. This drew from Rome a letter ordering the English Archpriest Blackwell and Garnet himself "to hinder by all possible means all conspiracies of Catholics”.

Not one Catholic cleric ever declared support for Catesby’s plan. But as 1605 wore on Garnet felt compelled to report to the Pope that English Catholics had reached “a state of desperation”.

Garnet had been sent to England to endeavour to restore Catholic dignity. He felt he had failed. He was a dedicated man and had masterfully managed the Jesuit presence in England. Not once was a letter sent to Rome complaining of his management or conduct. But priests were being executed. They were forced to hide in claustrophobic “priest holes”, sometimes for days on end, while their courageous host’s property was searched. The gunpowder plot only accentuated his anguish.

Garnet was not lily-white. He had backed (without direct involvement) previous treasonous plots. He was a known “equivocator” (cleverly hiding the truth without actually lying) which was a form of dishonesty. And just by his presence in England he was committing a capital offence. It must be wondered what his private thoughts on the gunpowder plot were. Could he have been secretly hoping the plot would succeed and a Catholic monarch enthroned who allowed Catholic worship unmolested? And if it happened that way, would it be God’s will??

Francis Tresham – no contribution to the plot, but did he betray it?

It was clearly a mistake to confide in Tresham. He was the least enthusiastic of all the plotters and turned out to be of little help. He was continually begging Catesby to call the whole thing off.

It wasn’t going to be called off. Bringing the last two on board was the culmination of a hive of activity and recruitment in the later months of 1605. As was noted earlier, steady work and meetings had occupied the group from mid-1604 through to March, 1605. But between these bursts of activity there had been a gap of nearly six months. Once the underground cellar had been secured and the gunpowder put in place there was little for the group to do. Everybody dispersed. Those from the Midlands returned to their estates, the Londoners settled back at home, and even Guy Fawkes returned to his regiment in Flanders. The gunpowder was left unguarded for the entire summer.

Did the King’s spies suspect a serious attack on the government was being planned? Of course they did! Speculation on this varies from their awareness of rumours all the way through to full knowledge revealed to them by some informer or their own detective work. Robert Cecil, elevated to Earl of Salisbury in 1605, was the King’s Secretary of State and chief spymaster. People like Catesby and Wright, both with prison records for rebellious activities, would be constantly watched and Salisbury would have been aware of clandestine meetings. But whenever rumour of Catholic plots arose, as they frequently did, suspicion immediately fell on the Jesuit priests rather than the likes of Catesby and Wright. Lay Catholics were seen as mere tools used by the Jesuits in their evil pursuits. The Catholic Encyclopaedia “New Advent” theorises that Fathers Garnet and Tesimond may have been observed and even overheard as they discussed, in the so-called garden confession, the details of the plot as told by Catesby to Tesimond. But no suspect was ever spoken to and no direct action taken. Perhaps Salisbury was holding back.

Lord Monteagle – probably the plot’s most enigmatic figure

Why was he accepted into the hallowed halls of Westminster? His support for the Essex rebellion was treasonous (he was lucky to escape with only a heavy fine), he was involved in the “Spanish Treason” and was well known in Catholic circles, continuing to associate with them. Well after the gunpowder plot was hatched he is on record as saying he regretted Spain’s unwillingness to aid a Catholic uprising in England. He employed Thomas Wintour as a secretary and his wife was Francis Tresham’s sister. Here was a member of the government knee-deep in a circle of known anti-Government agitators. What’s going on? Was he strategically placed in parliament as one of Salisbury’s spies? When the dust settled he was given a generous pension. His name was carefully expunged from official records relating to the gunpowder plot even though he was originally suspected to be part of it (and even imprisoned briefly after the event). This implies Government protection. With a foot in both camps he would have been ideally placed to feed information to Salisbury (and vice versa – remember how the cellar became available at a very opportune moment!).

The Monteagle letter. Who wrote it?

Who could have written the letter will be pondered shortly but Monteagle’s action on receiving it also justifies examination. The letter was double-sealed which implied confidentiality. Monteagle received it at his dinner table in the company of several guests and after reading it allowed Thomas Ward, the footman who had taken delivery of it, to read it aloud for all his dinner guests to hear. Why did he do that? It was confidential. He was told to burn it. His rather lame explanation was that he didn’t know what it meant. Still not sure he rode five miles in the dark to Whitehall and showed it to Salisbury. After a brief discussion on the not very subtle message Salisbury promised to show the letter to the King. Monteagle returned home. But the King was on a hunting trip, enjoying a few days of leisure before the formality of opening parliament. No search of parliament was undertaken in his absence. It was six days before the King returned and was shown the letter. The words “terrible blow” scared him but it would be three more days (November 4) before three parliamentarians who had carefully studied the letter persuaded him that it would be prudent to search parliament buildings, including below ground. The three included Monteagle. They discovered the cellar with its pile of firewood and Guy Fawkes in attendance. Fawkes explained the room was rented by his employer for storing firewood. Under interrogation he named Thomas Percy as his employer and gave his own name as John Johnson. The group then left to report their findings to Salisbury and the King and, if they could find him, question Percy. Fawkes left the premises unmolested.

Why didn’t they look under the firewood?

Monteagle was there. If the plot had in fact been betrayed to him in his role as a spy did he curtail the search so he could accord the King the honour of finding the gunpowder himself? By urging a second search (by the King’s own bodyguards) he stood to gain royal favour. More than that, he would be widely acclaimed as the saviour of the King and his entire government.

As things transpired it was Salisbury rather than Monteagle who ordered a second search. The name of Thomas Percy had alerted him. Salisbury knew his record as a dangerous Catholic agitator. He advised the King that he could be in imminent danger and recommended a more thorough search of the cellar. By now it was early morning on 5 November. Fawkes had returned with his slow-burning matches and touchwood. As the door was being broken down he is reported to have initiated the explosion there and then, King or no King, in the hope that at least the structure housing this evil government would be destroyed (himself too, probably). But no chance. The King’s men burst in and the burning fuse was quickly extinguished. The gunpowder was discovered and Fawkes arrested.

Guy Fawkes. (Inset top right) His arrest in the cellar below the House of Parliament

Did the letter betray the plot? Or did somebody else betray it? Or was Salisbury already onto it? There is no knowing how much the creative and highly manipulative controller of the King’s spy network already knew and how long he’d known it.

Theories abound over the authorship of the letter, some rather fanciful. And even the purpose of the letter isn’t clear. Was it to confidentially warn Monteagle away from parliament to protect just him but not prevent the explosion? Or was it intended as a full betrayal, assuming Monteagle would reveal the letter to higher authorities? The Jesuits, Anne Vaux, Francis Tresham, Thomas Percy, any one of the conspirators’ wives, Salisbury and even Monteagle himself have all been variously proposed as possible authors of the letter. Francis Tresham was strongly suspected at the time. His sister was married to Monteagle. He didn’t want him harmed and had already made that clear to the plotters. But he denied writing the letter. Had he written it, admitting the fact after Fawkes’s arrest would surely have been to his advantage, mitigating culpability for his minor role in the plot. Even on his deathbed he made no mention of it.

Authorship by Salisbury or Monteagle himself, or both in collaboration, is not as far-fetched as might initially appear. If they were already aware of the plan they would be looking for ways to alert the King without divulging Monteagle’s status as a government informer. An anonymous letter would serve that purpose. The letter was delivered to Monteagle at a Hoxton address – a house in North London that he rarely used and which belonged to his brother. This too brings the authorship closer to Monteagle himself.

Those pointing the finger at Thomas Percy have observed that he made several visits to Salisbury’s home after midnight about the time of the letter. He also visited Northumberland on 4 November. It was known that he held concerns for Northumberland’s welfare. The visits could have been legitimate but his need to visit Salisbury so late could do with an explanation. Percy was one of the more shadowy figures in the plot and had a history of mismanagement, bribery and occasional violence in his role as custodian of Northumberland’s northern estates.

Tresham, Monteagle, Percy? It’s all mere speculation. Who wrote the letter remains an unsolved mystery.

Did Catesby and the wider circle of conspirators find out about the letter? Most certainly they did. Monteagle’s footman Thomas Ward, who had initially received it, was related by marriage to the Wright brothers and shared the Monteagle household with Thomas Wintour. Word quickly reached the whole circle through them. Catesby and Wintour instantly suspected Tresham, remembering his concern for the safety of his brother-in-law. They challenged him but, as already mentioned, he indignantly denied involvement. After a nervous few days with nobody knocking on the door, Catesby and Wintour decided they could still proceed with the plan. On Percy’s 4 November visit to Northumberland he inquired whether any rumours about the letter were circulating among the nobility. Northumberland had nothing unusual to report.

Putting aside his excitement, uneasily mixed with a deep-seated anxiety, Catesby now carefully thought over the post-explosion plan. On 4 November he and his reliably faithful servant Thomas Bates would leave London for the Midlands accompanied by John Wright, probably Catesby’s favourite and most dependable co-conspirator. After the explosion Christopher Wright, Thomas Percy, Robert Keyes, Thomas Wintour, Ambrose Rookwood and, hopefully, Francis Tresham would ride at high speed to catch up with the other three and all would rendezvous with Everard Digby, John Grant and the hunting/recruiting/kidnapping party. They would meet close to Coombe Abbey, the residence of Princess Elizabeth. By the time of the explosion Guy Fawkes would be aboard a boat on the Thames and, amid the chaos, make a quick escape to the continent where he would seek refuge among the Jesuits. Every effort had been made to maintain secrecy in the Midlands but rumours about a possible uprising were spreading. No mention of gunpowder was heard.

Nor was the sound of gunpowder heard when the King and his officials assembled in the House of Lords on 5 November. Guy Fawkes was in custody and that aspect of the plan in ruins. Fawkes had divulged his real name but, despite intense interrogation, named nobody else. He insisted he had acted alone. Nobody believed him and it wasn’t long before the King gave orders for the instruments of torture to be shown. Fawkes remained silent. His intention was to hold out long enough to give the conspirators time to escape the country. Only on the third day did he begin to give names and sparse details of the planned rebellion. He had been mercilessly beaten and as time went on would almost certainly have been subjected to the agony of the rack.

A warrant for the arrest of Thomas Percy (as the renter of the cellar) had been issued as soon as Fawkes was arrested but he had not been located. By 8 November the hunt was on for all those named by Fawkes and anybody and everybody else who was suspected of even the smallest involvement, starting with the Jesuits. No effort was spared. A horrendous crime had been averted, the most grievous in the country’s history.

Did Catesby and his men escape the country as assumed by Fawkes? Of course not. It was never even considered.

Before following the fleeing conspirators to the Midlands in Part 3 we need to deal briefly with some matters back in London. Firstly there was a mysterious instruction given by Salisbury to the authorities regarding the search for Percy. He was “not to be taken alive” – an odd injunction considering the usual tradition of humiliating anyone guilty of treason by public hanging, drawing and quartering. Had he been attempting to alert Salisbury of the plot during his late night visits? Salisbury wouldn’t have wanted that revealed in court. In any event, they were not going to find Percy in London. News of Guy Fawkes’s arrest had reached the plotters and Percy had joined them in a hurried exodus to the Midlands.

The only two that did not leave London on the morning of 5 November were Thomas Wintour and, not so surprisingly, Francis Tresham. Wintour not joining the exodus is mysterious. He explained he “had business to attend to.” What business could have been more important than escaping London? Harking back to March that year, at about the time the idea of digging a tunnel had probably been abandoned, it seems that Wintour, and only Wintour, decided that the whole plot was also on the point of abandonment. He applied for a posting to the Netherlands in the English regiment. When the underground cellar became available he was quickly back on board but his guard may have dropped during those few days in limbo and he could have let something slip to his employer, the redoubtable Monteagle. Perhaps the “business” that kept him in London after the others had fled was an attempt to obtain Monteagle’s silence.

Regarding Francis Tresham, he was never going to leave London and totally distanced himself from any Midlands activity. Earlier, on 2 November, he had been granted a licence to travel abroad accompanied by a large retinue which included servants and horses – a strange luxury for a fervent Catholic who was a cousin of Catesby, friendly with the Wrights, had a prison record for rebellious activity and had lobbied hard for Spanish support for a Catholic uprising. Was it a reward for feeding the Government information through (again) Monteagle? Remaining in London while the others fled, he must have been confident he would not be charged with treason. Life got difficult for him when Guy Fawkes gave his name along with the other conspirators. Arrested for not revealing the plot he somewhat mysteriously developed an illness while in prison. Also rather curiously he was given privileges including family visits and care by his own personal doctors. Notwithstanding, he died on 23 December before he could go to trial. In his deathbed confession he made no mention of the Monteagle letter. His death is recorded as “by natural causes” but theories abound that he might have been poisoned. Had his case gone to court he might have owned up as the initiator of the Monteagle letter. All reference to that letter was removed from official records. Did Salisbury order that? His failure to conduct a thorough search of Parliament the instant he read the letter would surely be seen as a dangerous dereliction of duty.

Tresham’s cause of death and his involvement with the letter remain unresolved.

End of Part Two.

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