[Milton-L] Remember, remember the fifth of November!

Dr Margaret Kelly markell at ozemail.com.au
Mon Nov 8 22:44:59 EST 2004


Frankly, I have never been enamoured of treason, no matter its trappings.
Moreover, this was an extremely sensitive time. Both legally and politically, for the future of the future Great Britain, (James I's hopeful designation, not realized in full till political realities crept up on the revolutionaries of 1688 and then some.....) let alone the United Kingdom...
The legalities of this are extremely complex. The politics even more so.
Romanticism and ex post facto views of this extraordinary confrontation concerning the rule of 2 kingdoms as one, and the appreciation of a fluidity in religious perception ( which, James I as a Calvinist, tho' christened as a Catholic, ruling over an Anglican England and a Presbyterian Scotland with exceptionaries at every turn, actually attempted to encourage [silly sot!]) , can never re-capture the real political devastation which may have followed on this adventure .  Nor, might I say, has the role of the Jesuits [clearly the real intellectual basis behind the opposition to James I of England, and not without any rational substantiation] received any sustained interrogation.
............m
  ----- Original Message ----- 
  From: Dr. Carol Barton 
  To: John Milton Discussion List 
  Sent: Saturday, November 06, 2004 9:15 AM
  Subject: [Milton-L] Remember, remember the fifth of November!


  Happy Quintum Novembris! This (below) courtesy of the new DNB -

  Best to all,

  Carol Barton


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  Fawkes,  Guy (bap. 1570, d. 1606), conspirator
  by Mark Nicholls




  Fawkes,  Guy  (bap. 1570, d. 1606), conspirator, only son and 
  second child of Edward Fawkes (d. 1579) of York and his wife, 
  Edith Jackson, was born in the Stonegate district of York and 
  baptized at the church of St Michael-le-Belfrey on 16 April 
  1570. Edward Fawkes was proctor, later advocate in the 
  consistory court of York, possibly registrar of the exchequer 
  court like his father, and, so far as can now be discerned, a 
  staunch protestant. Guy's paternal grandparents were William 
  Fawkes (d. 155863) and Ellen Haryngton (d. 1575), daughter of a 
  prominent York merchant. Edward Fawkes died in January 1579, and 
  was buried in York Minster. By February 1582 his widow had 
  married Denis Bainbridge of Scotton, in the West Riding, and it 
  is supposed that young Guy Fawkes became a Roman Catholic as a 
  result of his connection with this strongly recusant family. He 
  was educated at St Peter's School, in York.

  Military career

  Guy Fawkes was by profession a soldier. In 1592 he sold the 
  small estate in Clifton which he had inherited from his father 
  and went to fight for the armies of Catholic Spain in the Low 
  Countries; he was, by all accounts, conscientious and brave. He 
  behaved gallantly at the siege of Calais in 1596 but had risen 
  no higher than the rank of ensign by 1602. In 1599 he is 
  described as being 'in great want'. During the early 1600s 
  Fawkes travelled to Spain on perhaps two separate occasions, in 
  1603 seeking support from a reluctant Spanish court for another 
  military venture in aid of English Catholics. According to a 
  description from the pen of a Jesuit priest and former 
  schoolfellow, Oswald Tesimond, Fawkes was something of a 
  paragon: devout, patient, 'pleasant of approach and cheerful of 
  manner, opposed to quarrels and strife ... loyal to his 
  friends', but at the same time 'a man highly skilled in matters 
  of war'  (Edwards, 68-9). In his character sketches of the 
  Gunpowder Plot conspirators Tesimond is generous with praise and 
  sparing in his censure, but it was just this mix of sound faith, 
  technical expertise, and moral integrity which encouraged the 
  original plotters to seek Fawkes's support in the spring of 
  1604.

  The Gunpowder Plot

  Knowledge of the conspiracy in its early days is heavily 
  dependent on the confessions of two surviving ringleaders, 
  Fawkes himself and the still more important Thomas Winter. 
  Winter's confession, probably written for publication, certainly 
  in his own hand, is one of the most remarkable accounts of 
  intended treason in the pages of English history, and while not 
  altogether free from obfuscation, it is substantially true. By 
  comparison, Guy Fawkes's confessions show that, while he was 
  privy to most secrets, he knew less than Winter. Winter, indeed, 
  recruited Fawkes, albeit at the initial recommendation of the 
  conspiracy's mastermind, Robert Catesby. The two men had much in 
  common, both having travelled to Spain on similar missions 
  within the previous two years. They met at Ostend early in 1604, 
  during Winter's latest attempt to establish whether practical 
  support from Spain might still be expected after the Stuart 
  succession. Hugh Owen, the intelligencer on England at the court 
  in Brussels, and Sir William Stanley both spoke highly of 
  Fawkes, considering him entirely trustworthy, so the matter was 
  pursued. In further conversation at Dunkirk, Winter told Fawkes 
  that he and some friends were upon a resolution to 'doe some 
  whatt in Ingland if the pece with Spaine healped us nott' 
  (Salisbury-Cecil MS 113/54). After crossing the English Channel 
  together, they called on Catesby at his London lodging late in 
  April 1604.

  Winter's conclusion that Spain was manifestly unwilling to 
  support the intransigent English Catholics seems to have 
  persuaded Catesby that there was now only one way forward. 
  Dreams that a Spanish army might invade England, overturn the 
  heretic regime, and restore Catholicism along with a Catholic 
  monarch were now effectively shattered. Catesby and his friends 
  realized that they would now have to act on their own. So far 
  Catesby had disclosed his plan to destroy parliament with 
  gunpowder to no one apart from Winter and John Wright, but when 
  another friend, the earl of Northumberland's cousin and estate 
  officer, Thomas Percy, visited him in May fulminating against 
  the inactivity of right-thinking Catholics, Catesby took the 
  opportunity to take both Fawkes and Percy into his confidence, 
  making sure that both had first taken an oath of secrecy. The 
  scheme seems to have been well received. On 24 May 1604 Percy, 
  trading on the personal goodwill of Dudley Carleton and John 
  Hippesley, fellow officers in Northumberland's household, leased 
  a small house adjacent to the Lords' chamber from one Henry 
  Ferrers of Baddesley Clinton, who in turn rented the property 
  from John Whynniard, keeper of the Old Palace of Westminster.

  The initial idea was that the plotters should drive a mine from 
  the cellars of this dwelling straight under the Palace of 
  Westminster, through the foundations of parliament house. 
  Fawkes, 'becaus his face was the most unknowen', adopted the 
  name John Johnson and took charge of the building, pretending to 
  be Percy's servant  (Salisbury-Cecil MS 113/54). Catesby's house 
  in Lambeth-the old Vauxhall manor house on the south bank of the 
  Thames-offered a convenient store for gunpowder and mining 
  paraphernalia; it was a comparatively straightforward task to 
  ferry these over to Westminster at dead of night. A sixth man, 
  Robert Keyes, was brought into the conspiracy in order to look 
  after the Lambeth end of the operation. When they heard that a 
  severe outbreak of plague in the city had prompted a further 
  prorogation of parliament, until February 1605, the plotters 
  dispersed into the countryside, gathering once again in London 
  at the start of the Michaelmas law term.

  For a time their schemes were frustrated: Scottish commissioners 
  negotiating the proposed union between England and Scotland took 
  over Percy's conveniently located lodgings for their 
  deliberations. Just before Christmas, however, the conspirators 
  began to dig their mine. By Christmas eve they had tunnelled up 
  to the wall of parliament, but then news came through of yet 
  another prorogation and work was suspended until early February. 
  At this point they rowed all the gunpowder over from Lambeth and 
  concealed it in Percy's house. Here was a decision born of 
  pragmatism: as Winter explained, 'wee were willing to have all 
  our dainger in one place'  (Salisbury-Cecil MS 113/54). Another 
  fortnight passed in laborious efforts to hack their way through 
  solid foundations. Alarmed by the slow progress, the plotters 
  secured the services of three new recruits, Christopher Wright 
  (John's brother), Robert Winter (Thomas's brother), and John 
  Grant.

  Now, however, fortune smiled. As they were tunnelling they heard 
  a rushing sound over their heads. Fearing discovery they sent 
  Fawkes-the unknown face-out to reconnoitre, but he came back 
  with encouraging news that the tenant of a ground-floor vault 
  below the Lords' chamber, a coal merchant appropriately named 
  Ellen Bright, was vacating her premises. Percy at once set about 
  securing the lease from Whynniard and the conspirators 
  gratefully abandoned their mine, planning instead to stack up 
  their powder in the vault. All of a sudden there was nothing to 
  do but wait, and plan for success. Hours spent in the mine had 
  allowed the plotters many opportunities to work out how best to 
  capitalize on their deadly strike, but it is fair to say that 
  their strategy was never really thought through. They hoped to 
  kidnap the next heir and worked on the assumption, by no means a 
  secure one, that Prince Henry would be blown up with his father. 
  Percy, who thanks to Northumberland's patronage was a gentleman 
  pensioner (one of the king's personal bodyguard), undertook to 
  abduct James's second son, Prince Charles, the duke of York, 
  hastening him away from court in the general confusion under 
  colour of conducting the boy to a place of safety. However, 
  Percy's colleagues appear to have doubted the feasibility of 
  this scheme-London was enemy territory, far from their Catholic 
  refuges in the midlands. They pinned their hopes on securing the 
  young Princess Elizabeth, then residing with John, Lord 
  Harington, at Combe, 4 miles from Coventry. The means to this 
  end would be an armed force of mounted Catholic gentry, and 
  Catesby invited friendly midland squires to gather-ostensibly to 
  hunt-near his home at Ashby St Ledgers on 5 November.

  A young girl, though, could not rule alone; she would stand in 
  need of champions, or, indeed, a protector, a man of birth and 
  political stature. Minor gentlemen could not fill such a role, 
  but if the plotters themselves were unable to take on the task, 
  who could? Here is entered a dark country. The same question was 
  asked over and again by the Jacobean government in the months 
  following the discovery of the plot, but never received a 
  satisfactory answer. Indeed, if the surviving conspirators are 
  to be believed, the matter was glossed over with extraordinary 
  insouciance. All that Fawkes and Winter would say later was that 
  a decision had been deferred until after the blast, when it 
  might be clear which noblemen were still available. In 
  principle, they had agreed to preserve as many peers 'as were 
  Catholick or so disposed'  (Salisbury-Cecil MS 113/54). More 
  than once Catesby assured new recruits who scrupled at the 
  possible deaths of patrons and friends that favoured noblemen 
  would be dissuaded by 'tricks' from attending the opening of 
  parliament. However, it is doubtful if he meant to honour such 
  pledges. Robert Keyes recalled one occasion on which the mask 
  slipped. Speaking contemptuously of the English nobility, 
  Catesby 'made accompt of them as of atheists, fools and 
  cowards'. Rather than risk failure he was fully prepared to see 
  each and every man among them blown to perdition  (PRO, SP 
  14/216/126).

  Summer was spent far from London, in the countryside or, in 
  Fawkes's case, overseas. He was in Flanders from Easter to 
  August 1605, keeping his head down. But the time was not all 
  wasted. While in Brussels he acquainted Hugh Owen with the 
  plotters' design, in order that Owen might speak for them in the 
  courts of continental Europe after the fact. At home, meanwhile, 
  Catesby took stock of an increasingly pressing problem. He had 
  borne the financial burden alone for upwards of one year and was 
  unable to do so much longer. With the agreement of his 
  colleagues, Catesby now widened the circle of conspirators in an 
  attempt to bring in wealthy supporters-men who might foot the 
  bill for the projected rebellion in the midlands. Late in the 
  summer he confided his secret to Ambrose Rookwood, Sir Everard 
  Digby, and, fatally, Francis Tresham, having sworn all three to 
  secrecy.

  None took the news particularly well, although Digby and 
  Rookwood were soon persuaded that cruel necessity must have its 
  way. Tresham, while apparently honouring his vow of silence, was 
  clearly much perturbed, promising Catesby large sums of money if 
  he would only call a halt to so perilous an enterprise. Catesby 
  dissembled, but had no intention of backing down. Fawkes and 
  Winter brought fresh gunpowder into the vault, fearing with good 
  reason that the existing stock might have become damp. On 3 
  October parliament was once again prorogued, this time for a 
  month. The new date for the state opening was set at 5 November. 
  Winter, attending the ceremony in Lord Monteagle's entourage, 
  must have taken comfort in the presence of Salisbury and other 
  leading members of the council.

  At the end of October the principal plotters began to converge 
  on London. About the 26th Catesby and Fawkes returned to White 
  Webbs in Enfield Chase, home of the Catholic Anne Vaux. There 
  they had news from Winter that Prince Henry would not be 
  accompanying his father to parliament on 5 November. Catesby at 
  once resolved to attempt the capture of the heir apparent, but 
  once again there does not seem to have been anything in the way 
  of precise planning. On the night of Sunday 27 October Winter 
  learned from someone in the peer's household that Monteagle had 
  received a general warning against attending the opening of 
  parliament, and had immediately taken the message to court. 
  Winter panicked. He went to White Webbs, trying to persuade 
  Catesby that the game was up, but Catesby showed a steady nerve. 
  He would, he declared, 'see further as yett', sending Fawkes out 
  on reconnaissance  (Salisbury-Cecil MS 113/54). No one ever 
  questioned Fawkes's courage: he duly put his head in the noose, 
  checking the cellar and reporting that nothing had been 
  disturbed.

  On Friday 1 November Winter and Catesby met an agitated Tresham 
  at Barnet. They accused him of betrayal; he denied it, 
  redoubling his efforts at dissuasion. Winter was by now inclined 
  to discretion himself, but Catesby remained determined to give 
  the plot every opportunity for success. The final chance to 
  abandon the enterprise passed on the evening of 3 November, at a 
  meeting between Winter, Catesby, and Thomas Percy, recently 
  arrived from the north. It was Percy who said what Catesby 
  clearly wanted to hear, that they should see the business to its 
  conclusion. He went to Syon House to dine with Northumberland on 
  4 November-a point that would tell heavily against the earl 
  thereafter-and returned to his colleagues declaring that all 
  seemed well  (PRO, SP 14/216/126). So Fawkes took up his station 
  in the vault, with a slow match, and a watch, sent to him by 
  Percy via Robert Keyes 'becaus he should knowe howe the time 
  went away'  (PRO, SP 14/216/100).

  Meanwhile the privy council was treading carefully, anxious not 
  to alarm any conspirators into premature flight, but still half 
  believing that the curiously worded 'Monteagle letter' signified 
  little. On the afternoon of 4 November the earl of Suffolk-who 
  in his capacity as lord chamberlain had responsibility for 
  ensuring that arrangements for the new session were in hand-made 
  a tour of inspection, accompanied among others by Monteagle. 
  They looked over the Lords' chamber, and then descended into the 
  ground-floor cellars which ran the length of the building. 
  Inevitably, they noticed the unusually large pile of firewood 
  covering the gunpowder, and asked Fawkes, in his guise as John 
  Johnson, whose fuel this was. Hindsight later prompted Suffolk 
  to record that the servant was 'a very tall and desperate 
  fellow', but to all outward appearances the party was satisfied 
  when Fawkes told them the wood belonged to his master Thomas 
  Percy  (Oldys, 3.256). Returning to court, however, Monteagle 
  expressed surprise that Percy, an old acquaintance, rented 
  property in Westminster. He also mentioned that Percy was a 
  Catholic.

  That sufficed to stir King James's latent fears, and he ordered 
  a further search of the vaults which, still with an eye to 
  avoiding undue alarm, was to be carried out under the pretence 
  of looking for some 'stuff' and hangings that had strayed from 
  the wardrobe stores  (Oldys, 3.257). The task fell to a 
  Westminster magistrate and gentleman of the privy chamber, Sir 
  Thomas Knyvett, keeper of the Palace of Westminster. In 
  contemporary accounts of the subsequent search chronology varies 
  slightly, but no more than one might expect given the scope for 
  rumour and embellishment in so thrilling a tale  (Gardiner, 
  114-37). About midnight Knyvett led his party into the cellar. 
  They met Fawkes, fully clothed and in his boots, emerging from 
  the room. Thinking him oddly dressed for so late an hour Knyvett 
  had the suspect arrested, while his men hauled away the faggots 
  and brushwood, uncovering thirty-six barrels-nearly a ton-of 
  gunpowder.

  Imprisonment, trial, and execution

  There followed Fawkes's finest hour. Examiners wrote grudgingly 
  of his fortitude, his 'roman' resolution  (Oldys, 3.258). 
  Confronted with a barrage of questions he refused to implicate 
  his colleagues, apart from Percy, whose crimes were manifest. 
  Fawkes admitted having recently travelled to Flanders, but when 
  pressed for a reason mocked his examiners, declaring that he had 
  set out 'to see the countrey and to passe away the time'  (PRO, 
  SP 14/216/6). When he did speak plainly, it was to express his 
  dislike of Scots, evident in his communications to the Spanish 
  crown in 1603. According to tradition Fawkes wasted no time in 
  telling the horrified king that he would have blown both James 
  and his fellow countrymen at the court back to their northern 
  mountains. Otherwise, he remained silent, muttering defiantly: 
  'you would have me discover my frendes'  (PRO, SP 14/216/16A). 
  Not until 7 November would he admit to his real name, and he did 
  this only when the shaken interrogators, at last getting round 
  to examining the contents of his pockets, found a letter 
  addressed to a Mr Fawkes.

  It soon became clear that these heroics were in vain. The 
  midland rising headed by the principal conspirators rapidly 
  fizzled out in mass desertion and a brief skirmish at Holbeach 
  House in Staffordshire, where Catesby, Percy, and the brothers 
  Wright all perished. Winter was among those taken prisoner. News 
  of this denouement filtered through to London on the 9th. On the 
  one hand this made Fawkes's testimony still more important, 
  since he was one of the two surviving members from the 
  conspiracy's inner ring, but on the other all conceivable danger 
  was now past, and the authorities held the precious prize of 
  Thomas Winter. The privy council now relaxed a little and were 
  prepared to wait, looking on Fawkes's testimony given on 7, 8, 
  and 9 November as a provisional summary of the treason  (PRO, SP 
  14/216/49 and 54). It seems almost certain that torture of some 
  kind had been employed in those critical days when king and 
  council faced revolt in the shires. James had authorized its 
  use, recommending that the 'gentler tortures' be tried first, 
  progressing to something more savage should the prisoner prove 
  reticent. Once the menace of a midland insurrection had passed, 
  such extremities were set aside: Fawkes alone suffered in this 
  way.

  The surviving principal conspirators languished in the Tower 
  until January 1606. Then the assembly of a parliament eager to 
  see the plotters receive their just deserts, and only too ready 
  to pick up an infelicitous suggestion by the king in his 
  November prorogation speech that the prisoners should be tried 
  in parliament, spurred the council into action. On 27 January 
  eight Gunpowder plotters stood trial in Westminster Hall on 
  charges of high treason. All but Sir Everard Digby pleaded not 
  guilty, refuting certain points within the indictment 
  while-inevitably-admitting to the whole. The trial lasted a day 
  and commanded high prices as a public spectacle, one MP 
  complaining that while he had paid 10s. for standing room, 
  others had been let into the same enclosure for much smaller 
  sums  (Parliamentary Diary of Robert Bowyer, ed. D. H. Willson, 
  1931, 10). Both king and queen are supposed to have attended in 
  private  (John Hawarde, Les reportes del cases in camera 
  stellata, 1894, 257). The attorney-general, Sir Edward Coke, 
  launched into the prisoners in his usual bombastic style and the 
  earl of Northampton delivered an immensely tedious speech 
  defending the king from charges made by Digby that James had 
  gone back on promises of toleration for English Catholics. The 
  outcome of the trial was never in doubt, and verdicts of guilty 
  were duly returned. Four of the condemned men were executed on 
  30 January in St Paul's Churchyard. The following day Thomas 
  Winter, Ambrose Rookwood, Robert Keyes, and, finally, Fawkes 
  suffered the same fate in the Old Palace Yard, Westminster; his 
  body was quartered, in fulfilment of his sentence.

  Historical significance

  On 5 November 1605 the inhabitants of London were encouraged to 
  light bonfires in celebration of the king's apparently 
  providential deliverance, always provided that 'this testemonye 
  of joy be carefull done without any danger or disorder'. The 
  citizens were happy to oblige, John Chamberlain marvelling at 
  the 'great ringing and as great store of bonfires as ever I 
  thincke was seene' (CLRO, journal of common council, 27, fol. 4; 
  The Letters of John Chamberlain, ed. N. F. McClure, 2 vols., 
  1939, 1.213). Bonfires and the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot 
  have gone hand in hand ever since, a curious circumstance given 
  that by any objective assessment the plot was just another in a 
  line of failed conspiracies against the state. Right at the 
  start it was the lingering uncertainties, the unresolved loose 
  ends, and the king's own perception of God's divine hand which 
  nourished collective memory. James saw great significance in the 
  fact that he had been delivered from both Gowrie conspiracy and 
  Gunpowder Plot on a Tuesday the 5th. Parliament passed an act 
  for an annual public thanksgiving, gunpowder sermons were 
  preached at court throughout his reign, and although the wording 
  changed over time, prayers of thanksgiving for deliverance from 
  the plot remained in the calendar of the established church 
  until 1859.

  Over a much longer timescale, numerous circumstances have 
  conspired to preserve commemoration in some form or other of 
  events on 5 November 1605. Among these the most important have 
  been repeated attempts either by the state or by some particular 
  group within the country to focus the minds of Englishmen on a 
  particularly horrific manifestation of Catholic perfidy. 
  Gunpowder Plot commemoration was appropriated by the puritans in 
  the 1630s and 1640s as they countered the creeping popery 
  perceived in Charles I's court. Fireworks are observed from at 
  least the 1650s, and the burning of effigies became fairly 
  common after the much publicized torching of the 'whore of 
  Babylon'-adorned with symbols of papal office-by London 
  apprentices in 1673, following the conversion to Catholicism of 
  the heir presumptive, James, duke of York. The Popish Plot 
  frenzy and the exclusion struggles generated a fresh intensity 
  in 5 November celebrations. James II's government failed in its 
  attempt to ban fires and fireworks, and the fact that William of 
  Orange landed at Torbay on 5 November 1688 once again magnified 
  the date in the minds of many protestant Englishmen. From that 
  day to this, as the old rhyme observes, gunpowder treason has 
  'never been forgot'. The fifth of November persisted as a day on 
  which rowdy youths took the opportunity for challenging local 
  authorities up and down the land: at that level there was little 
  perception of the original conspiracy, just as today the 
  historical facts are, for many, submerged beneath spectacle and 
  consumerism. Commemoration was given yet another lease of life 
  in the 1850s by the antagonisms generated by Catholic 
  emancipation, and the re-establishment of a Catholic religious 
  hierarchy in England.

  In 1790 The Times recorded boys begging in the street 'to burn 
  Guy Faux'. By Victoria's reign, Fawkes-the cloaked figure in the 
  cellar-was burnt in effigy almost everywhere, rather than the 
  pope or the devil, and he has, in an increasingly secular and 
  religiously tolerant age, held his place of dishonour atop the 
  bonfires ever since, joined occasionally by the transient 
  demon-figures of state politics or the popular press: 
  suffragettes, the Kaiser, and Margaret Thatcher among them. 
  Through the twentieth century celebrations have become more 
  orderly, more tame. Even back-garden firework displays, 
  widespread as late as the 1970s, have been frustrated by safety 
  considerations, and the pull of large, organized shows. Those 
  few surviving examples of vehement anti-Catholic ritual on 
  bonfire night-at Lewes in Sussex, for example-are noteworthy in 
  their rarity. Gunpowder Plot day has become Guy Fawkes' night, 
  bonfire night, or firework night, but the durability of this 
  particular manifestation of Englishness-its ability to reinvent 
  a reason for continuing-remains remarkable.

  Perhaps this is only right. Though a failure, the plot came very 
  close to success. Theories, as old as the treason itself, that 
  the government either knew of the conspiracy from an early 
  stage, or that it actually manipulated the conspirators through 
  one or more agents provocateurs, draw unwarranted conclusions 
  from the surviving evidence, fail to advance any credible motive 
  for such chicanery, and were, indeed, effectively demolished 
  long ago by S. R. Gardiner (in What Gunpowder Plot Was, 1897; 
  see Nicholls, 213-20). The magnitude of Fawkes's intended 
  treason should never be underestimated. Ordnance records state 
  that the 18 hundredweight of powder transferred from the cellar 
  to the Tower of London was 'decaied', but modern calculations 
  suggest that, decayed or not, few if any in the Lords that 
  afternoon would have survived a combination of devastating 
  explosion and the noxious fumes thrown out by the combustion of 
  seventeenth-century gunpowder. Guy Fawkes, the experienced 
  soldier, knew this only too well.

  Mark Nicholls










  Sources  Gunpowder Plot book, PRO, SP 14/16, 14/216 + Hatfield 
  House, Hertfordshire, Salisbury-Cecil MSS + M. Nicholls, 
  Investigating Gunpowder Plot (1991) + F. Edwards, ed., The 
  Gunpowder Plot: the narrative of Oswald Tesimond, alias Greenway 
  (1973) + His majesties speach in this last session of parliament 
  ... together with a discourse of the maner of the discovery of 
  this late intended treason, joyned with an examination of some 
  of the prisoners (1605); repr. in W. Oldys, ed., The Harleian 
  miscellany, 10 vols. (1808-13), vol. 4 + State trials + A. J. 
  Loomie, 'Guy Fawkes in Spain: the "Spanish treason" in Spanish 
  documents', BIHR, special suppl., 9 (1971) [whole issue] + S. R. 
  Gardiner, What Gunpowder Plot was (1897) + D. Jardine, Criminal 
  trials, 2 vols. (1832-5) + H. Garnett, Portrait of Guy Fawkes: 
  an experiment in biography (1962) + W. Oldys and T. Park, eds., 
  The Harleian miscellany, 10 vols. (1808-13), vols. 3-4 + R. 
  Davies, The Fawkes's of York (1850) + D. Jardine, A narrative of 
  the Gunpowder Plot (1857) + K. M. Longley, 'Three sites in the 
  city of York', Recusant History, 12, 1-7 + N. A. M. Rodger, 
  'Ordnance records and the Gunpowder Plot', BIHR, 53 (1980), 
  124-5 + S. Middelboe, 'Guy certainly was not joking', New Civil 
  Engineer, 5 (Nov 1987), 32-4 + D. Cressy, Bonfires and bells 
  (1989), 68-90 + D. Cressy, 'The fifth of November remembered', 
  Myths of the English, ed. R. Porter (1992), 68-90 + R. Hutton, 
  The stations of the sun: a history of the ritual years in 
  Britain (1996), chap. 39 + J. Wolffe, The protestant crusade in 
  Great Britain, 1829-1860 (1991)
  Likenesses  group portrait, line engraving, c.1605 (The 
  Gunpowder Plot conspirators, 1605), NPG [see illus.]




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