This letter, written with his own hand, was shown to him at the trial. It is still in existence. Some years ago it was discovered by Mr. Lemon in the State Paper Office, where it is still preserved, not only as a proof of Garnet’s guilt, but also as evidence, that the principles of the church of Rome are not misrepresented by Protestant writers.
The man who had taken the charge of these letters conveyed them immediately to the lords of the council. The object was to have some public confession of his guilt on his trial. They were apprehensive that he might deny even what he had privately stated to the lords, which was much less than what he had admitted in these letters. The trap which had been set for him by the sage counsellors of his majesty was not set in vain.
But other evidence was soon produced. The individual to whom the letters were entrusted gained his entire confidence. Garnet told him that he was very anxious to see Hall, another jesuit, known also by the name of Oldcorn, who was then confined in the same prison. The keeper promised to arrange a meeting between them. For this purpose they were so placed, that they could converse together, while he, to avoid suspicion, took a position so as to be seen by both. At the same time two other individuals were secreted in the prison sufficiently near to hear all that passed between the prisoners. They conversed freely respecting their previous confessions and examinations—the excuses and evasions which they had prepared, and many other matters connected with the plot. During the conversation Garnet remarked to Hall, “They will charge me with my prayer for the good success of the great action, in the beginning of the parliament, and with the verses which I added at the end of my prayer.” He added, that in his defence he should state, that the success for which he prayed related to the severe laws, which he apprehended would, during the session, be enacted against the Romanists. The verses alluded to were as follows:—
Gentem auferte perfidam
Credentium de finibus,
Ut Christo laudes debitas,
Persolvamus alacriter.
The next day Garnet and Hall were examined separately, when they were charged with having held a private conference. Garnet denied the fact in the most decided terms. The parties who heard the conversation were then produced: nor could Garnet object anything against their statements.
Garnet said on his trial that he once thought of revealing the plot, but not the conspirators. Cecil asked who hindered him from making the discovery; to whom he replied, “You, yourself; for I knew you would have racked this poor body of mine to pieces, to make me confess.” Fuller remarks on this assertion and in allusion to the interview with Hall, that “never any rack was used on Garnet, except a witrack, wherewith he was worsted, and this cunning archer outshot in his own bow. For being in prison with Father Oldcorn alias Hall, they were put into an equivocating room (as I may term it) which pretended nothing but privacy, yet had a reservation of some invisible persons within it, ear witnesses to all the passages betwixt them.”
These confessions, denials, evasions, and palliations were defended by Garnet under the plea of lawful equivocation, a doctrine then at least taught very generally in the church of Rome. Under shelter of this plea the jesuits were prepared, not merely to conceal or to deny any fact, but also to aver what they knew to be false. It was urged, and in books too, that such a course might be adopted on the ground that the parties reserved in their own minds a secret and private sense. Thus any question might be eluded: and this practice was publicly defended in a treatise licensed by Garnet and Blackwall. Certain instances are given in the work as illustrations of the doctrine. The following is one of these cases. A man arrives at a certain place, and is examined on oath at the gate, whether he came from London, where the plague is supposed to be raging at the time. The man, knowing that the plague is not in London, or that he did no more than pass through that city, may swear that he did not come from London. It is argued, that such an answer would agree with their intention, who proposed the question simply with a view to ascertaining, whether their own city would be endangered by his entrance. Such was the doctrine of equivocation, under the plea of which Garnet sheltered himself when he denied many things which were proved against him, and which he had himself confessed. Even Sir Everard Digby resorted to this papal doctrine of equivocation, as will be seen from the following extracts from his letters discovered in 1675, and published by Bishop Barlow, in 1679:—“Yesterday I was before Mr. Attorney and my Lord Chief Justice, who asked me if I had taken the sacrament to keep secret the plot as others did. I said that I had not, because I would avoid the question of at whose hands it were.”—“I have not as yet acknowledged the knowledge of any priest in particular, nor will not do to the hurt of any but myself, whatsoever betide me.” Speaking of a particular priest, he says in another letter; “I have not been asked his name, which if I had, should have been such a one as I knew not of.” Again; “If I be called to question for the priest, I purpose to name him Winscombe, unless I be advised otherwise.” And, alluding to the same in a subsequent letter—“You forget to tell me whether Winscombe be a fit name. I like it, for I know none of it.” In another letter—“As yet they have not got of me the affirming that I know any priest particularly, nor shall ever do to the hurt of any one but myself.” It is evident that he deemed it lawful to deny anything calculated to bring reproach on his church; and that he did not scruple to give a false name on his examination. From the manner in which he speaks, there can be no doubt, that he believed he might lawfully equivocate. And from whom had he learned this monstrous doctrine? From the church and her authorized teachers!!
The earl of Salisbury alluded on the trial to his denial of the conversation with Hall, reminding him that he was not questioned as to the matter of their conferences, but simply as to the fact. Hall confessed the fact, and Garnet, though he had so strongly denied it, then admitted the whole. On being reminded of the matter by Cecil, he replied, that when a man is asked a question before a magistrate he is not bound to give an answer quia nemo tenetur prodere seipsum.
Tresham, who died in the Tower, accused Garnet of a previous treason in entering into a league with the king of Spain against England. Before his death he was permitted to see his wife, who was aware of his confession respecting Garnet. Under her influence he dictated to his servant, being too weak to use a pen himself, that he had not seen Garnet during the last sixteen years, and retracted his previous confession in which he admitted the contrary. Now it was proved, and acknowledged by Garnet, that they had met several times within the last two years. Garnet was asked to explain Tresham’s conduct; and his reply was, “I think he meant to equivocate.”
Tresham died within three hours after dictating this letter. Mrs. Vaux, however, confessed that she had seen Tresham with Garnet at her house three or four times since the accession of King James, and that they had dined together with her. Garnet also publicly acknowledged that he had seen Tresham. A second confession of Mrs Vaux’s was also read in the court, in which she admits that she was with Garnet at Tresham’s house in Northamptonshire not long since.