found a "cloak bag" of crosses and "massing reliques," but nothing that threw light on the disturbance, the rumours of which spread general alarm. Presently came the news of what had been intended at Westminster. A few days later Mrs. Grant, Mrs. Percy, and the wives of other conspirators were apprehended and sent up to London, Mrs. Rookwood amongst them, we suppose; and so there was an end of the traitors' occupancy of Clopton House.

Here, before we quit the scene, is a copy of two documents that mention it preserved at the State Paper Office, in the Gunpowder Plot Book.

"The examination of Thomas Rookwood, gent., of Clopton, in the county of Warwick, taken before Sir Fulk Grevil, day and year aforesaid [Nov. 8, 1605]: This examinate being demanded upon what occasion he passeth into these parts, saith he was going to Worcester to meet with one Ingram that had sold him a hawk. Being demanded why he fled from his way at Alcester, said because Townsend and Johnson that were of his company said the town was disquieted, which made them return out of the way to Bidford, when he was with the rest apprehended.

"The examination of William Johnson, servant to Mr. Rookwood of Clopton in the county of Warwick, yeoman : This examinate being demanded for what cause he past this way saith he was going to Worcester to see a kinsman he had there. Being demanded how young Mr. Rookwood and Townsend came into this county, saith that they both had a purpose to deal with a hawk with a gentleman in Hereford. ['Young Mr. Rookwood,' said Worcester.] Being demanded why he fled when he came to Alcester after the troops were past, saith when he came and saw the town disturbe [sic], he went with Mr. Rook [sic] and Townsend the contrary way out of the way to Bidford, when he was apprehended."

Early on

There are "examinations" of other servants of Rookwood, appointed to go from Suffolk to meet him at Norbrook. Meanwhile the master was fleeing for his life. Tuesday morning those of the Plotters who were in town were aware that their plot was discovered. "Richard Johnson" had been seized the preceding midnight, and, though he had disclosed nothing, it was clearly time to be gone. One Henry Tatnall met two gentlemen, afterwards thought to be conspirators, in Lincoln's Inn Fields that morning, and heard one say: "God's wounds! we are wonderfully beset, and all is marred." They were soon tearing along the road for Dunchurch. Rookwood started last, but, better mounted, soon overtook the others-overtook Keyes about three miles beyond Highgate, then Catesby and John Wright beyond Brickhill; then a little farther on Percy and Christopher Wright; and "they five rode together; and Percy and John Wright cast off their cloaks and threw them into a hedge to ride the more speedily." And so to Ashby St. Legers, Rookwood having covered the eighty miles in seven hours. Then on to Dunchurch, where it soon got out that the grand blow that was to be struck, whatever it was, had been thwarted, and all was lost. The assembly rapidly dissolved; and the ringleaders, left almost alone, and it would seem wellnigh planless and desperate, dashed on through the night by or through Warwick-Grant and the others went through, and stole fresh horses, Rookwood went round-to Norbrook, reached about daybreak, where they rested awhile, as they well had need; then, on the Wednesday, through Alcester to Huddington, the Winters' house; on the Thursday, at sunrise, to Whewell Grange, where they helped themselves to Lord Windsor's arms and armour; then, with yet thinner numbers, on to Holbeach, the house of Stephen Littleton, where, during the

I

night, they made what preparations they could for the assault certain to be made on the morrow. It was here, on Friday the 8th, that some powder that was drying exploded, and Rookwood and others were severely burnt. Sir Richard Walsh, Sheriff of Worcestershire, with the posse comitatus, was soon at the gate. "When I came," says Th. Winter, who had been outside at the time of the explosion "I found Mr. Catesby reasonable well, Mr. Percy, both the Wrights, Mr. Rookwood, and Mr. Grant. asked them what they resolved to do; they answered, 'We mean here to die.' I said again I would take such part as they did. About eleven of the clock came the company to beset the house, and as I walked into the court I was shot into the shoulder, which lost me the use of my arm; the next shot was the elder Wright shot dead; after him the younger Mr. Wright; and fourthly, Ambrose Rookwood [shot, not shot dead]. Then said Mr. Catesby to me, standing before the door they were to enter: 'Stand by me, Tom, and we will die together.' "Sir,' quoth I, 'I have lost the use of my right arm, and I fear that will cause me to be taken.' So, as we stood close together, Mr. Catesby, Mr. Percy, and myself, they two were shot, as far as I could guess, with one bullet; and then the company entered upon me, hurt me in the belly with a pike, and gave me the other wounds, until one came behind and caught hold of both my arms."

One more scene we will look at, in which Mr. Rookwood, of Clopton, plays a signal part. Let us pass over his trial with his surviving fellows—the heads of Catesby and Percy had for some time been grinning "upon the side of the Parliament House," that of Tresham on London Bridge; how he spoke of his attachment to Catesby; how he begged

for mercy, that he might be punished "corporaliter non mortaliter;" and see the last act in his miserable tragedy.

The old sentence in such cases was carried out in all its barbarity, at which, in the then state of public feeling, one can scarcely wonder. Indeed, according to a letter of the time, "there were some motions made in Parliament about a more sharp death for the gunpowder conspirators." FourSir Edward Digby, Robert Winter, Grant, and Bates—were executed at the west end of St. Paul's Churchyard; the others-Th. Winter, Keyes, Fawkes, and he in whom we are here specially interested-in the Old Palace Yard at Westminster, opposite the Parliament House, now grimly decorated, as we have just mentioned, with the heads of Catesby and Percy. The procession to the Old Palace. Yard "passed by a house in the Strand in which Rookwood's wife lodged. She had placed herself at an open window, and Rookwood, raising himself as well as he could from the hurdle on which he was drawn, called upon his wife to pray for him.' She replied in a clear, strong voice, 'I will! I will! And do you offer yourself with a good heart to God and your Creator! I yield you to Him with as full an assurance that you will be accepted of Him as when He gave you to me.'" So a contemporary MS. Evidently of a high and inflexible spirit was this lady-something of the antique Roman in her-who could look on such a sight and speak so firmly as she looked. The rough journey was soon completed. Then kneeling and often bowing their heads to the ground, the doomed men prayed, "but no voice heard, saving now and then 'O Jesu, Jesu, save me and keep me,' &c., which words they repeated many times. upon the ladder," and soon all was over.

Such were the ends of Mr. Grant of Norbrook, and Mr. Rookwood, late of Clopton.

E

V.

As Gunpowder Plot was thus brought near, so to speak, to Shakespeare, those scenes at the west end of St. Paul's and in Old Palace Yard, so linked, as we have seen, with Stratford-on-Avon, it might be expected that we should find in his plays special allusions to an event that was in such a manner intruded upon his special notice. For our own part, we think that expectations of this kind are based upon ignorance of Shakespeare's way of working. But there are one or two passages—we ourselves shall lay no great stress upon them which have been supposed to be suggested, and may have been suggested, by this same conspiracy.

There is a passage in King Lear-we have already quoted a few words from it-which is possibly not impertinent. Certainly it should be remembered that it was in all probability about the close of 1605, or in the course of 1606, that King Lear was written. Likely enough it was begun in the one year and finished in the other. "These late eclipses in the sun and moon," says Gloucester, who is ready to explain what goes wrong by any theory but that of personal culpability, "portend no good to us. Though the wisdom of nature [i.e. natural philosophy] can reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself scourged by the sequent effects: love cools, friendship falls off, brothers divide : in cities, mutinies : in countries, discord: in palaces, treason: and the bond cracked 'twixt son and father. . . . We have seen the best of our time; machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders follow us disquietly to our graves." Surely this speech would have a very curious significance in 1606; and it can scarcely be accidental that it was written in or about that year.