This difficulty is emphasized by another. We learn, on the unimpeachable testimony of Mrs. Whynniard, the landlady, that Faukes not only paid the last instalment of rent on Sunday, November 3rd, but on the following day, the day immediately preceding the intended explosion, had carpenters and other workfolk in the house "for mending and repairing thereof."[285] To say nothing of the wonderful honesty of paying rent under the circumstances, what was the sense of putting a house in repair upon Monday, which on Tuesday was to be blown to atoms? And how could the practised eyes of such workmen fail to detect some trace of the extraordinary and unskilled operations of which the house is said to have been the theatre? If, indeed, the truth is that on the Tuesday the premises were to be handed over for official use, it is easy to understand why it was thought necessary to set them in order, but on no other supposition does this appear comprehensible.
Problems, not easy to solve, connect themselves, likewise, with the actual execution of the conspirators' plan. If it would have been hard for Guy Faukes to get into the "cellar," how was he ever to get out of it again? We are so accustomed to the idea of darkness and obscurity in connection with him and his business, as perhaps to forget that his project was to have been executed in the very middle of the day, about noon or shortly afterwards. The king was to come in state with retinue and guards, and attended by a large concourse of spectators, who, as is usual on such occasions, would throng every nook and corner whence could be obtained a glimpse of the building in which the royal speech was being delivered.[286] It cannot be doubted, in particular, that the open spaces adjacent to the House itself would be strictly guarded, and the populace not suffered to approach too near the sacred precincts, more especially when, as we have seen, so many suspicions were abroad of danger to his sacred Majesty, and to the Parliament.
On a sudden a door immediately beneath the spot where the flower of the nation were assembled, would be unlocked and opened, and there would issue there-from a man, "looking like a very tall and desperate fellow," booted and spurred and equipped for travel. He was to have but a quarter of an hour to save himself from the ruin he had prepared.[287] What possible chance was there that he would have been allowed to pass?
As to his further plans, we have the most extravagant and contradictory accounts, some obviously fabulous.[288] According to the least incredible, a vessel was lying below London Bridge ready at once to proceed to sea and carry him to Flanders; while a boat, awaiting him at the Parliament stairs, was to convey him to the ship.[289] If this were so, it is not clear why he equipped himself with his spurs, which, however, are authenticated by as good evidence as any other feature of the story. It would also appear that, here again, the plan proposed was altogether impracticable, for at the time of his projected flight the tide would have been flowing,[290] and it is well known that to attempt to pass Old London Bridge against it would have been like trying to row up a waterfall. Neither does it seem probable that the vessel would have been able to get out of the Thames for several hours, before which time all egress would doubtless have been stopped.
Such considerations must at least avail to make us pause before we can unhesitatingly accept the traditional history, even in those broad outlines which appear to be best established. The main point is, however, independent of their truth. Though all be as has been affirmed concerning the "cellar" and its contents, and the plan of operations agreed upon by the traitors, the question remains as to the real nature of the "discovery." We have seen, on the one hand, that the official narrative bristles with contradictions, and, whatever be the truth, with falsehoods. On the other hand, the said narrative was avowedly prepared with the object of obtaining credence for the picturesque but unveracious assertion that the plotters' design was detected "very miraculously, even some twelve hours before the matter should have been put in execution." On the Earl of Salisbury's own admission, it had been divined almost as many days previously, and it was laid open at the last moment only because he deliberately chose to wait till the last moment before doing anything. No doubt a dramatic feature was thus added to the business, and one eminently calculated to impress the public mind: but they who insist so loudly on the miraculousness of an event which they alone have invested with the character of a miracle, must be content to have it believed that they knew still more than in an unguarded moment they acknowledged, and arranged other things concerning the Plot than its ultimate disclosure.[291]
FOOTNOTES:
[241] Copies were sent by Cecil to Cornwallis at Madrid, Parry at Paris, Edmondes at Brussels, and Chichester at Dublin. Also by Chamberlain to Dudley Carleton.
[242] "Lastly, and this you must not omit, you must deliver, in commendation of my Lord Mounteagle, words to show how sincerely he dealt, and how fortunately it proved that he was the instrument of so great a blessing, ... because it is so lewdly given out that he was once of this plot of powder, and afterwards betrayed it all to me."—Cecil to Coke. (Draft in the R.O., printed by Jardine, Criminal Trials, ii. 120.)