Unquestionably his greatest sorrow of all was to think of his wife and children at Coughton. The unfortunate Lady Digby had sent a servant, named James Garvey,[330] “in search of his master, when he was apprehended”; for “Sir Everard had horses at Coughton.”Although she would doubtless think it a comparatively minor matter, the rude fact was soon forced upon her that, if her husband were attainted of high treason, all his estates would be confiscated, and she presently learned that the lawyers were already wrangling over the technical question whether her own property at Gothurst, which was settled on Sir Everard and his children, would not have to go too. The Crown lawyers claimed that it would, and they issued a notice that no part of it, or its revenues, must be touched by Lady Digby, or anyone else, until after her husband’s trial. She was, therefore, immediately placed in a position of pecuniary embarrassment and want.
Although it is an oft-told tale, and does not directly concern the subject of my biography, my story might seem incomplete if I were to say nothing of those whom Sir Everard had left behind him, when he rode away from Holbeche.
According to Jardine, two of the company at Holbeche, besides Sir Everard, deserted that house on the Friday morning. One was the host, Stephen Littleton. It should be remembered that he had not been a sworn conspirator in the Gunpowder Plot, and that it would seem hard that he should bear the penalty of sheltering his friends who had been concerned in it. As a matter of fact, this was exactly what he had to do; for he was executed for this very offence and, curiously enough, another too good-natured man, of the name of Perkises, was executed in his turn for sheltering him. The other fugitive was Robert Winter, who was afterwards captured and executed.
Sir Everard and his men had not long left Holbeche, when Catesby, Rookwood, and Grant endeavoured to dry some of the gunpowder from Whewell, which had got “dank”in the open cart on its journey the previous afternoon, upon a platter over a large fire. As might have been expected, it ignited and exploded, severely burning several of them.
Even Catesby now lost heart, expressed his fears that God disapproved of their proceedings,[331] and said that here he meant to remain and die. The other conspirators said they would do the same, and they seem now, for the first time, to some extent, to have realised the enormity of their sin. They perceived “God to be against them; all prayed before the picture of Our Lady, and confessed that the act was so bloody as they desired God to forgive them.” Then, says Father Gerard,[332] “They all fell earnestly to their prayers, the Litanies and such like (as some of the company affirmed that escaped taking, being none of the conspirators, but such as joined with them in the country); they also spent an hour in meditation.” It is satisfactory to know that they showed some contrition for their terrible iniquity and tried to make their peace with God; and, being Catholics, they would know what to do to this end.
At eleven o’clock, the High Sheriff appeared with a large force and surrounded the house. Thomas Winter went out into the court-yard and was shot in the shoulder by an arrow from a cross-bow, just as Catesby, who followed him, exclaimed, “Stand by me, Tom, and we will die together.”The two brothers, John and Christopher Wright, followed him, and both were mortally wounded. Rookwood, who had been severely burned by the explosion of gunpowder, was shot through the arm by a bullet from a musket and wounded in the body by a pike. Catesby and Percy stood back to back and were both shot through the body. Catesby died shortly afterwards in the house, after declaring “that the plot and practice of this treason was only his, and that all others were but his assistants, chosen by himself to that purpose, and that the honour thereof belonged only to himself.” Percy died the next day.
As soon as Catesby and Percy had fallen, the attacking party rushed into the court-yard, overpowered the feeble resistance offered to them, and made prisoners of the whole party.
The besiegers of Holbeche House were little more orderly than the hue and cry which had chased Sir Everard Digby. Sir Thos. Lawley, who was assisting the Sheriff of Worcestershire, wrote afterward to Salisbury[333]:—“I hasted to revive Catesby and Percy and the two Wrights, who lay deadly wounded on the ground, thinking by the recovery of them to have done unto his Majesty better service than by suffering them to die. But such was the extreme disorder of the baser sort, that while I with my men took up one of the languishing traitors, the rude people stripped the rest naked; and their wounds being many and grievous, and no surgeon at hand, they became incurable and so died.”
In a very short time, Sir Everard Digby, Rookwood, Thomas Winter, John Grant, Robert Keyes, Francis and Tresham were all safely lodged in the Tower, besides the earliest conspirator arrested—Guy Fawkes.
One of the first things that Sir Everard did after being brought to London was to beg as a special favour to be permitted to see the king[334]—a boon most unlikely to be granted—“intending to lay down the causes so plainly which had moved them to this attempt,” namely the Gunpowder Plot, “and withal how dangerous it was for His Majesty to take the course he did, as that he hoped to persuade at least some mitigation, if not toleration, for Catholics.”Of course he was informed that no such favour would be shown him; but that he would very shortly be examined by the Lords of the Council, when an opportunity would be given to him of making a statement.