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THE formal confession of Thomas Winter is a most important document. Some controversy has arisen about it owing to the fact that, although the handwriting of the original text is undoubtedly Winter's, his surname is not written in the usual manner, the signature affixed to the confession being spelled 'Winter,' instead of 'Wintour.' This circumstance, however, is of no great moment when we consider how various were the forms of spelling used by Winter's contemporaries. People of far greater genius than this conspirator, living under Elizabeth and James I., did not—if we may jocularly express it thus—know how to spell their own names. Ralegh, Shakspeare, and Sidney, have left behind them their signatures spelled in various forms,[1] so that the fact of Winter signing himself as his name is now known to us is of no consequence to those acquainted with the social history of his age.

In nearly all respects the document can undoubtedly be pronounced genuine, although here and there the wretched man may have been forced either to insert or to omit a sentence which he would have much liked not to do, but the confession may, nevertheless, be pronounced a frank and veracious story of the plot. The insinuation that Winter could not have penned this confession because his arm had not recovered from the wound received at Holbeach is absurd; since we have still with us to-day the original manuscript accounts bearing witness that he was then not only quite well enough to write, but that he had even written at some length two or three days before he began compiling this formal confession.

Sir Edward Waad, Lieutenant of the Tower, writing to Cecil on November 21, 1605, mentions that 'Thomas Winter doth find his hand so strong, as after dinner he will settle himself to write that he hath verbally declared to your Lordship, adding what he shall remember.' Winter, therefore, was well enough to write by November 21, that is to say, four days before the date attached to his longest confession,[2] which runs as follows:—

The Voluntary Declaration of Thomas Winter, of Hoodington, in the County of Worcester, gent, the 25th of Nov., 1605, at the Tower acknowledged before the Lords Commissioners.[3]

'23 9ber 1605.

'My most honorbale Lords,

'Not out of hope to obtain pardon; for speaking of my temporal part, I may say, the fault is greater than can be forgiven; nor affecting hereby the title of a good subject; for I must redeem my country from as great a danger as I have hazarded the bringing of her into, before I can purchase any such opinion; only at your Honours' command I will briefly set down my own accusation, and how far I have proceeded in this business; which I shall the faithfuller do, since I see such courses are not pleasing to Almighty God, and that all, or the most material parts, have been already confessed.

'I remained with my Brother in the country from Allhallow's-tide[4] until the beginning of Lent in the year of Our Lord, 1603, the first year of the King's reign; about which time Mr. Catesby sent thither, entreating me to come to London, where he, and other my friends, would be glad to see me. I desired him to excuse me; for I found myself not very well disposed; and, which had happened never to me before, returned the messenger without my company. Shortly, I received another letter, in any wise to come. At the second summons, I presently came up, and found him with Mr. John Wright, at Lambeth, where he broke with me how necessary it was not to forsake our country, for he knew I had a resolution to go over,[5] but to deliver her from the servitude in which she remained, or at least to assist her with my utmost endeavours. I answered, that I had often hazarded my life upon far lighter terms, and now would not refuse any good occasion, wherein I might do service to the Catholic Cause; but for myself I knew no mean probable to succeed. He said that he had bethought him of a way at one instant to deliver us from all our bonds, and without any foreign help to replant again the Catholic religion; and withal told me in a word, it was to blow up the Parliament-house with gunpowder; for said he, in that place have they done us all the mischief, and perchance God hath designed that place for their punishment. I wondered at the strangeness of the conceit, and told him that true it was, this struck at the root, and would breed a confusion fit to beget new alterations; but if it should not take effect, as most of this nature miscarried, the scandal would be so great which the Catholic religion might hereby sustain, as not only our enemies, but our friends also would with good reason condemn us. He told me, the nature of the disease required so sharp a remedy and asked me if I would give my consent. I told him Yes, in this or what else soever, if he resolved upon it, I would venture my life. But I proposed many difficulties, as want of an house, and of one to carry the mine, noise in the working, and such like. His answer was, Let us give an attempt, and where it faileth, pass no further. But first, quoth he, because we will leave no peaceable and quiet way untried, you shall go over and inform the Constable[6] of the state of the Catholics here in England, entreating him to solicit his Majesty, at his coming hither, that the penal laws may be recalled, and we admitted into the rank of his other subjects; withal, you may bring over some confident gentleman, such as you shall understand best able for this business, and named unto me Mr. Faukes. Shortly after, I passed the sea, and found the Constable at Bergen, near Dunkirk, where by help of Mr. Owen, I delivered my message; whose answer was that he had strict command from his master, to do all good offices for the Catholics, and for his own part, he thought himself bound in conscience so to do, and that no good occasion should be omitted, but spoke to him nothing of the matter.

'Returning to Dunkirk with Mr. Owen,[7] we had speech, whether he thought the Constable would faithfully help us, or no. He said he believed nothing else, and that they sought only their own ends, holding small account of Catholics. I told him that there were many gentlemen in England, who would not forsake their country, until they had tried the uttermost, and rather venture their lives than forsake her in this misery. And to add one more to our number, as a fit man both for counsel and execution of whatsoever we should resolve, wished for Mr. Faukes, whom I had heard good commendations of; he told me the gentleman deserved no less, but was at Brussels, and that if he came not, as happily he might, before my departure, he would send him shortly after into England. I went soon after to Ostend, where Sir William Stanley,[8] as then, was not, but came two days after. I remained with him three or four days, in which time I asked him, if the Catholics in England should do anything to help themselves, whether he thought the Archduke would second them? He answered, No, for all those parts were so desirous of peace with England, as they would endure no speech of other enterprise, neither were it fit, said he, to set any project a-foot, now that peace is upon concluding. I told him there was no such resolution, and so fell to discourse of other matters, until I came to speak of Mr. Faukes, whose company I wished over in England; I asked of his sufficiency in the wars, and told him we should need such as he, if occasion required; he gave very good commendations of him. And as we were thus discoursing and ready to depart for Newport,[9] and taking my leave of Sir William, Mr. Faukes came into our company, newly returned, and saluted us. This is the gentleman, said Sir William, that you wished for, and so we embraced again. I told him, some good friends of his wished his company in England, and that if he pleased to come to Dunkirk, we would have further conference, whither I was then going: so taking my leave of them both, I departed. About two days after, came Mr. Faukes to Dunkirk, where I told him that we were upon a resolution to do somewhat in England, if the peace with Spain helped us not, but as yet resolved upon nothing; such or the like talk we passed at Graveling,[10] where I lay for a wind, and when it served came both in one passage to Greenwich, near which place we took a pair of oars, and so came up to London, and came to Mr. Catesby, whom we found in his lodging; he welcomed us into England, and asked me what news from the Constable. I told him "Good Words," but I fear the deeds would not answer. This was the beginning of Easter term; and about the midst of the same term,[11] whether sent for by Mr. Catesby or upon some business of his own, up came Mr. Thomas Percy. The first word he spoke after he came into our company, was "Shall we always, gentlemen, talk, and never do anything?" Mr. Catesby took him aside, and had speech about somwhat to be done, so as we might first all take an oath of secrecy, which we resolved within two or three days to do; so as there we met behind Saint Clement's, Mr. Catesby, Mr. Percy, Mr. Wright, Mr. Guy Faukes, and myself; and having upon a Primer given each other the oath of secrecy, in a chamber where no other body was, we went after into the next room and heard Mass,[12] and received the Blessed Sacrament upon the same. Then did Mr. Catesby disclose to Mr. Percy, and I, together with Jack Wright, tell to Mr. Faukes, the business for which we took this oath, which they both approved. And then Mr. Percy sent to take the house which Mr. Catesby, in my absence, had learned did belong to one Ferris, which with some difficulty in the end he obtained, and became, as Ferris before was, tenant to Whynniard. Mr. Faukes underwent the name of Mr. Percy's man, calling himself Johnson, because his face was the most unknown, and received the keys of the house, until we heard that the Parliament was adjourned to the 7 of February. At which time we all departed several ways into the country, to meet again at the beginning of Michaelmas term.[13] Before this time also it was thought convenient to have a house that might answer to Mr. Percy's, where we might make provision of powder and wood for the mine which, being there made ready, should in a night be conveyed by boat to the house by the Parliament because we were both to foil that with often going in and out. There was none we could devise so fit as Lambeth where Mr. Catesby often lay, and to be keeper thereof, by Mr. Catesby's choice, we received into the number Keyes,[14] as a trusty honest man.

'Some fortnight after, towards the beginning of the term, Mr. Faukes and I came to Mr. Catesby at Moorcrofts, where we agreed that now was time to begin and set things in order for the mine. So as Mr. Faukes went to London and the next day sent for me to come over to him. When I came, the cause was for that the Scottish Lords were appointed to sit in conference on the Union in Mr. Percy's house. This hindered our beginning until a fortnight before Christmas, by which time both Mr. Percy and Mr. Wright were come to London, and we against their coming had provided a good part of the powder, so as we all five entered with tools fit to begin our work, having provided ourselves of baked-meats, the less to need sending abroad. We entered late in the night, and were never seen, save only Mr. Percy's man, until Christmas-eve, in which time we wrought under a little entry to the wall of the Parliament House, and under-propped it as we went with wood.

'Whilst we were together we began to fashion our business, and discourse what we should do after this deed were done. The first question was how we might surprise the next heir; the Prince[15] haply would be at the Parliament with the King his father: how should we then be able to seize on the Duke?[16] This burden Mr. Percy undertook; that by his acquaintance he with another gentleman would enter the chamber without suspicion, and having some dozen others at several doors to expect his coming, and two or three on horseback at the Court gate to receive him, he would undertake (the blow being given, until which he would attend in the Duke's chamber) to carry him safe away, for he supposed most of the Court would be absent, and such as were there not suspecting, or unprovided for any such matter. For the Lady Elizabeth,[17] it were easy to surprise her in the country by drawing friends together at a hunting near the Lord Harrington's, and Ashby, Mr. Catesby's house, being not far off was a fit place for preparation.

'The next was for money and horses, which if we could provide in any reasonable measure, having the heir apparent and the first knowledge by 4 or 5 days was odds sufficient. Then, what Lords we should save from the Parliament, which was agreed in general as many as we could that were Catholics or so disposed. Next, what foreign princes we should acquaint with this before, or join with after. For this point we agreed that first we would not enjoin princes to that secrecy nor oblige them by oath so to be secure of their promise; besides, we knew not whether they will approve the project or dislike it, and if they do allow thereof, to prepare before might beget suspicion and not to provide until the business were acted; the same letter that carried news of the thing done might as well entreat their help and furtherance. Spain is too slow in his preparations to hope any good from in the first extremities, and France too near and too dangerous, who with the shipping of Holland we feared of all the world might make away with us. But while we were in the middle of these discourses, we heard that the Parliament should be anew adjourned until after Michaelmas, upon which tidings we broke off both discourse and working until after Christmas. About Candlemas,[18] we brought over in a boat the powder which we had provided at Lambeth and laid it in Mr. Percy's house because we were willing to have all our danger in one place. We wrought also another fortnight in the mine against the stone wall, which was very hard to beat through, at which time we called in Kit Wright, and near to Easter, as we wrought the third time, opportunity was given to hire the cellar, in which we resolved to lay the powder and leave the mine.

'Now, by reason that the charge of maintaining us all so long together, besides the number of several houses which for several uses had been hired, and buying of powder, etc., had lain heavy on Mr. Catesby alone to support, it was necessary for to call in some others to ease his charge, and to that end desired leave that he with Mr. Percy, and a third whom they should call, might acquaint whom they thought fit and willing to the business, for many, said he, may be content that I should know, who would not, therefore, that all the company should be acquainted with their names; to this we all agreed.

'After this, Mr. Faukes laid in the cellar, which he had newly taken, a thousand of billets and five hundred of faggots, and with that covered the powder, because we might have the house free to suffer anyone to enter that would. Mr. Catesby wished us to consider, whether it were not now necessary to send Mr. Faukes over, both to absent himself for a time, as also to acquaint Sir William Stanley and Mr. Owen with this matter. We agreed that he should (provided that he gave it to them with the same oath that we had taken before) viz. To keep it secret from all the world. The reason, why we desired Sir William Stanley should be acquainted herewith, was, to have him with us as soon as he could: and for Mr. Owen, he might hold good correspondency after with foreign princes. So Mr. Faukes departed, about Easter, for Flanders, and returned, the latter end of August. He told me that, when he arrived at Brussels, Sir William Stanley was not returned from Spain, so as he uttered the matter only to Owen, who seemed well pleased with the business, but told him, that surely Sir William would not be acquainted with any plot, as having business now a foot in the Court of England[19]; but he himself would always be ready to tell it him, and send him away as soon as it were done.

'About this time did Mr. Percy and Mr. Catesby meet at the Bath,[20] where they agreed, that the company being yet but few, Mr. Catesby should have the others' authority to call in whom he thought best, by which authority he called in after Sir Everard Digby, though at what time I know not, and last of all Mr. Francis Tresham. The first promised, as I heard Mr. Catesby say, fifteen hundred pounds, Mr. Percy himself promised all that he could get out of the Earl of Northumberland's rent,[21] and to provide many galloping horses, his number was ten.[22] Meanwhile, Mr. Faukes and myself alone bought some new powder, as suspecting the first to be dank, and conveyed it into the cellar, and set it in order, as we resolved it should stand. Then was the Parliament anew prorogued until the 5 of November; so as we all went down until some ten days before, when Mr. Catesby came up with Mr. Faukes to a house by Enfield Chace, called White Webbes, whither I came to them, and Mr. Catesby willed me to enquire whether the young Prince came to Parliament. I told him that his Grace thought not to be there. Then must we have our horses, said Mr. Catesby, beyond the water, and provision of more company to surprise the Prince, and leave the Duke alone. Two days after, being Sunday at night, in came one[23] to my chamber, and told me that a letter had been given to my lord Monteagle to, to this effect, that he wished his lordship's absence from the Parliament because a blow would there be given, which letter he presently carried to my lord of Salisbury. On the morrow[24] I went to White Webbs and told it to Mr. Catesby, assuring him withal that the matter was disclosed, and wishing him in any wise to forsake his country. He told me he would see further as yet, and resolved to send Mr. Faukes to try the uttermost, protesting, if the part belonged to himself, he would try the same adventure. On Wednesday, Master Faukes went, and returned at night, of which we were very glad. Thursday, I came to London; and Friday, Mr. Catesby, Mr. Tresham, and I met at Barnet, where we questioned how this letter should be sent to my lord Mounteagle, but could not conceive, for Master Tresham forswore it, whom we only suspected. On Saturday night,[25] I met Mr. Tresham again in Lincoln's-Inn Walks; wherein he told such speeches, that my lord of Salisbury should use to the King, as I gave it lost the second time, and repeated the same to Mr. Catesby, who hereupon was resolved to be gone, but staid to have Master Percy come up, whose consent herein we wanted. On Sunday, Mr. Percy, and no "Nay," but would abide the uttermost trial.

'The suspicion of all hands put us in such confusion, as Mr. Catesby resolved to go down into the country the Monday that Master Percy went to Sion, and Mr. Percy resolved to follow the same night or early the next morning. About five of the clock, being Tuesday,[26] came the younger Wright to my chamber, and told me that a nobleman called the lord Monteagle,[27] saying, "Rise, and come along to Essex House, for I am going to call up my lord of Northumberland," saying withal "The matter is discovered." "Go back, Mr. Wright," quoth I, "and learn what you can at Essex Gate." Shortly, he returned, and said, "Surely all is lost, for Leyton is got on horseback at Essex door, and as he parted, he asked if their Lordships would have any more with him, and being answered 'No,' is rode as fast up Fleet Street as he can ride." "Go you then," quoth I, "to Mr. Percy, for sure it is for him they seek, and bid him begone; I will stay, and see the uttermost." Then I went to the Court gates, and found them straitly guarded so as nobody could enter. From thence I went down towards the Parliament house, and in the middle of King's Street found the guard standing that would not let me pass, and as I returned, I heard one say, "There is a treason discovered, in which the King and the Lords shall have been blown up," so then I was fully satisfied that all was known, and went to the stable where my gelding stood, and rode into the country. Mr. Catesby had appointed our meeting at Dunchurch, but I could not overtake them until I came to my brother's, which was Wednesday night. On Thursday, we took the armour at my lord Windsor's,[28] and went that night to one Stephen Lyttleton's house, where the next day, being Friday, as I was early abroad to discover, my man came to me and said that a heavy mischance had severed all the company, for that Mr. Catesby, Mr. Rookewood, and Mr. Grant were burned with gunpowder, upon which sight, the rest dispersed. Mr. Lyttleton wished me to fly, and so would he. I told him I would first see the body of my friend and bury him, whatsoever befel me. When I came, I found Mr. Catesby reasonable well, Mr. Percy, both the Wrights, Mr. Rookewood, and Mr. Grant. I 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 was shot into the shoulder, which lost me the use of my arm. The next shot was the elder Wright, and fourthly, Ambrose Rookewood. 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 other wounds, until one came behind, and caught hold of both my arms, and so, I remain, your, etc.'

Of this confession of Thomas Winter there are three versions extant, viz., that at Hatfield, that in the Public Record Office, [29] and that printed in what is termed the 'King's Book' relating to the Plot. The version at Hatfield is the original, written by Winter himself. That in the Record Office is a copy made by Lord Salisbury's secretary, Monck, and corresponds very nearly with that published in the 'King's Book.' Between the three exists no really material difference except in matters of punctuation. The Hatfield copy is, of course, the only one signed by Winter himself. In the copy published in the 'King's Book' the marginal note, referred to above, is incorporated in the text. I have mainly followed, in the above transcription, the Record Office version, although accepting occasionally the punctuation and textual arrangement adopted in the 'King's Book.'

The holograph text at Hatfield is, beyond doubt, in Winter's handwriting, and even if the signature, 'Thomas Winter,' attached to it, should ever be proved to be a forgery, as is quite possible, it would not impugn in the least the veracity of the contents of the document. No forger could have known about many of the incidents described by Winter. No agent of the Government could have invented, or hit upon, the meeting in September (1605) at Bath. No other person but Winter himself could have related the true story of his adventures in the Low Countries. Such suggestions of error that the writer was chronologically wrong in stating in what sequence the various conspirators joined the Plot are worthless. In a matter about which there had been, of necessity, so much mystery and secrecy, it surely may be forgiven the poor harassed writer if he makes a slip now and then in the precise chronological order in which certain of the plotters were quietly enrolled! Catesby, probably, alone knew of the exact data when all the various plotters took the required oath, and Catesby, it need not be repeated, was dead! But, even if Thomas Winter had never confessed at all, the history of this great Treason, as handed down to us, would not thereby have been affected, for Winter's information merely corroborates what has been ascertained from other sources in verification of the traditional story of the Gunpowder Plot.

This confession shows us into what a state of desperation the English Roman Catholics had been driven soon after the accession of James, from whom they had expected so much, but received nothing of what they had expected. It was not until they found that no concession was likely to be forthcoming from James, and (after that) no aid was likely to be forthcoming from Spain, that they set about the concoction of their diabolical scheme.

There is one important item in Winter's confession of which, perhaps, insufficient notice has been taken by writers dealing with the Plot, and this is his reference to the probable, if not absolutely certain innocence of Sir William Stanley, as to whom the British Government would have been as glad to prove a guilty connection with the conspiracy as they were similarly to implicate Captain Hugh Owen. 'Sir William Stanley,' Winter states, 'was not returned from Spain, so as he (Faukes) uttered the matter only to Owen, who seemed well pleased with the business, but told him that surely Sir William would not be acquainted with any plot, as having business now afoot in the Court of England, but he himself would be always ready to tell it him and send him away as soon as it were done.' It has not transpired that Stanley became acquainted with the Plot before news of its detection reached the Continent. This Sir William Stanley passed a career made up of such extraordinary vicissitudes that some account of him is worthy of mention here.

Sir William Stanley was the head of the ancient family of the Stanleys, of which, until the death of the last of Sir William's descendants in the male line,[30] the noble house of Derby formed only the junior branch. Born in 1549, Stanley was brought up from childhood as a devout Roman Catholic. From 1567 till 1570, he fought under Alva in the Netherlands, and then volunteered for service under Elizabeth in Ireland, where he remained, on and off, for fifteen years, greatly distinguishing himself by his military genius and valour. Whilst in Ireland his faith seems to have offered no scruples in regard to his fighting faithfully for the Queen against his co-religionists. After quitting Ireland, Stanley was selected to hold a command under the Earl of Leicester in the Netherlands, but, before joining the Earl, returned on a brief visit to the Emerald Isle, where he raised a force of about thirteen hundred men to serve under Leicester. At this juncture, Stanley was evidently meditating treason, and was in constant but secret communication with certain Jesuit priests in England, and with the Spanish Ambassador in London.

Arrived in Holland, he fought by the side of Sir Philip Sidney at Zutphen,[31] and evidently won the complete confidence of Leicester, who entrusted to him and his Irishmen the care of the walled town of Deventer, which he was to hold against the Spaniards. But, on January 29, 1587, he threw open the gates of this city to the enemy, and he and most of his men entered the service of Spain, to the undisguised joy of the Jesuits,[32] and to the consternation of the English Government. Henceforth, Stanley's life was utterly changed. No man ever more completely destroyed all prospects of a brilliant career than had he by the surrender of Deventer. By the States-General, acting in concert with England, a price was put upon his head, and he went to Spain, there to advise King Philip in his plans for the invasion of England. Stanley's scheme, as tendered to the Spanish King, was to land an army in Ireland, and after conquering that country, to disembark troops at Milford Haven. Having done this, the Spanish fleet was to hold the Irish Channel, so that more troops could be brought over from Spain for the invasion of England on the grand scale. Even if this latter item in the programme were not feasible for some time yet, Stanley argued that Spain would be able to garrison Milford just as England had formerly occupied Calais.

That Stanley's schemes were far more wisely conceived and more likely of success than those adopted by Philip when despatching his great Armada, there can be no doubt; but (happily for England) the King refused to listen to his advice. Sir William Stanley, thereupon, returned to the Netherlands, to serve under Parma in the army which was to co-operate with the Armada (of 1588). After the failure of the Armada, he returned again to Spain in order to endeavour to obtain, once more, Philip's approval of his original scheme for sending troops to Ireland and Milford. From 1590 to 1600 he was serving, off and on, in the Netherlands, whilst making several visits to Madrid, and to Rome, to keep alive his cherished idea of invading England.

The accession of James I. opened, at last Stanley's eyes as to the hopelessness of the success of such schemes, and, indeed, of his own position. He had hoped that the English Roman Catholics, aided by Philip, would rise and proclaim as Elizabeth's successor some one, such as Lady Arabella Stewart, who might prove to be a mere tool in the hands of the Roman party. He speedily recognized, however, the stability of the new King's Government, and seems vainly to have been trying to obtain a pardon from James at the very time when his old friends, Winter, Faukes, and Wright, were preparing the Gunpowder Plot.

After the discovery of the Plot, Sir William Stanley plainly recognized that the Roman Catholic cause had become completely discredited, and that no hope of help could be entertained any longer from Spain. He spent the rest of his life in wandering about the Continent, consoling himself with special devotion to his religion, after having again been refused a pardon by the British Government. With his fast friends, the Jesuits, he appears to have fallen out towards the last, and to have become somewhat disgusted with their politics. At the great age of eighty-one, Stanley died at Ghent (1630), and was buried at Mechlin. He was the father of two sons and three daughters. His grandson, William Stanley, recovered the family estate of Hooton, Cheshire, and was the father of Sir William Stanley, of Hooton, Baronet.

That an Englishman of such noble birth and of such undoubted military genius as Sir William Stanley should have fallen so low as to become a mere pensioner of Spain, and the enemy of his fatherland, is sad in the extreme. Devotion to his religion utterly blinded him, and prevented him from discerning how fatal and how foolish was the course he was pursuing. Had he held instead of surrendering Deventer, he would undoubtedly have obtained high honours in England; and it is said that, at the very moment when he was plotting to surrender this city to Spain, Elizabeth had just consented to his being appointed the next Viceroy of Ireland.

  1. As has Sir William Waad, Winter's gaoler.
  2. The 23rd seems to have been the date on which he wrote, but the '23rd' on the Hatfield original copy has been altered into the '25th' by another hand.
  3. This heading is attached to the Hatfield copy.
  4. October 31 st.
  5. To the Netherlands.
  6. The Constable of Castile (Juan de Velasco).
  7. Captain Hugh Owen.
  8. A brilliant soldier, who had (after betraying his trust) deserted into the Spanish service.
  9. Nieuport.
  10. Gravelines.
  11. Probably about May 10 (1604).
  12. Said by Father Gerard, S.J.
  13. About the second week in October.
  14. A note in the margin of the Record Office copy states 'this was abought a month before Michaelmas.' In the Hatfield copy the note says, 'abought a month before michelmas.' The Hatfield copy and Winter's examinations of January 9 and 17, are on paper of the same watermark, different from that of the Record Office copy.
  15. Henry, Prince of Wales.
  16. Charles, Duke of York, afterwards King
  17. Afterwards Queen of Bohemia.
  18. February 2.
  19. Stanley, at that date, seems to have had some idea of seeking pardon from the British Government.
  20. The town of Bath.
  21. i.e. all that he could steal. According to a note in the King's handwriting, in the Record Office copy, this was 'about four thousand pounds.
  22. 'An unclean phrase,' writes the King.
  23. It is astonishing that Winter should not have been forced to mention this person's name. The anonymous 'one' was, however, Warde, which fact strengthens my contention that the Government did their utmost to shield both him and Mounteagle. Had not this 'one' been under Government protection, the Privy Council would have insisted on his name being divulged, because he, by giving notice to Winter, was thereby committing misprision of treason. It seems extraordinary that previous writers on the plot should have omitted all reference to this incident.
  24. October 28, 1605.
  25. November 2.
  26. November 5, a.m.
  27. This reference to Lord Mounteagle is very vague, and bears the impression of having been 'corrected' by those who witnessed Winter's confession.
  28. Hewell Grange.
  29. In the Gunpowder Plot Book, vol. ii. There is a copy of this copy in the British Museum (Add MSS. 6178).
  30. Sir John Massey-Stanley-Errington (1893).
  31. September 22, 1586.
  32. They actually had the audacity to print a book, extolling his treachery.