John Shakespeare 07 - Holy Spy

by Rory Clements

  Acknowledgements

  Heartfelt thanks to my wife Naomi and the rest of the family for their much-needed love and support. Likewise, huge gratitude to everyone who has encouraged me in my endeavours, particularly my agent Teresa Chris and editor Kate Parkin, both of them brilliantly professional.

  Two books have been especially helpful in writing this novel: The Babington Plot by Alan Gordon Smith; and Queen Mary and The Babington Plot, compiled and edited from the original documents by John Hungerford Pollen, SJ.

  Historical Notes

  The Babington Plotters Who Died

  On 13, 14 and 15 September 1586, fourteen men were convicted of High Treason at a commission of Oyer and Terminer in Westminster. Seven were executed on 20 September, with added cruelty ‘for more terror’. The remaining seven were executed the next day, being allowed the mercy of dying by hanging before being butchered.

  The First Seven Executed

  Anthony Babington: aged twenty-four, he was witty, handsome and wealthy, having inherited the family estates at Dethick Manor in Derbyshire when he was ten. He was the great-grandson of Lord Darcy who perished for his Catholic faith in the Pilgrimage of Grace during the reign of Henry

  VIII. Babington was educated at home, being brought up to believe that no one of breeding could be anything but Catholic. At eighteen he married Margaret Draycot, daughter of his guardian, Philip Draycot of Paynsley, Staffs. They had a daughter but within a year of marriage he went on a tour of France, where he met Chidiock Tichbourne and was visited by Thomas Morgan, the Paris agent of Mary Queen of Scots.

  Returning to England, he entered Lincoln’s Inn, and began doing secret work for Mary and the Catholic underground. Realising the danger he was in, he ceased this work and planned to emigrate with his friend Thomas Salisbury. But in 1586, the priest John Ballard sought him out and persuaded him to lead a conspiracy to replace Elizabeth with Mary. Babington was flattered and, being a dominant personality, easily drew his young gentleman friends into the plot.

  He was enthusiastic when interested but indolent when it came to drudgery. With the other conspirators he heard mass regularly at a house in Fetter Lane. They were known generally among Catholics at home and abroad as ‘The Pope’s White Sons, for divers pieces of services which they do for Rome against this realm’. At his trial, he blamed Ballard for all he had done.

  John Ballard: aged in his thirties, he was born near Ely. After graduating from Cambridge with an MA he was ordained priest at Chalons, France, in 1581. He was sent to England, where he adopted various aliases, including Captain Fortescue or Foscue. Described as tall, dark-eyed and dark-bearded, he dressed extravagantly in a gold-laced cape, satin doublet and a hat with silver buttons. He became a well-known figure in London’s taverns, famous for his generosity, and always addressed as ‘Captain’. Something of a fantasist, he boasted to the Spanish ambassador in France that he could raise an army of 60,000 in England, and he boasted to the conspirators that the Spanish were planning a 60,000-strong invasion – neither of which was true at that time. He told his fellow conspirator Tilney: ‘We shall have a new world shortly.’ On capture, he was so badly tortured that he had to be carried into court. When Babington blamed him for his downfall, Ballard replied: ‘I wish the shedding of my blood might be the saving of your life.’

  John Savage : Ballard called him ‘the Instrument’ – by which he meant the instrument for eliminating Elizabeth.

  A large and charming young man in his mid-twenties, he had no money. His only possession was his horse. Everyone spoke well of him. Gilbert Gifford, the Walsingham spy, said Savage was ‘one of the best companions’ and a ‘very good scholar’. His friend John Charnock, who was with him both in the Spanish army and at Barnard’s Inn, said: ‘He was an excellent soldier, a man skilful in languages and learned besides.’ Having served with the Spanish forces in the Low Countries, he went to Rheims to study for the priesthood, which he did not see through. Instead, egged on by two priests and by Gilbert Gifford, he vowed to kill Queen Elizabeth, having originally refused to do so. He then returned to England to study law at Barnard’s Inn, seemingly reluctant to carry out his mission to kill. When captured, he immediately confessed his part in the plot.

  Chidiock Tichbourne : aged twenty-eight. he was born in Southampton, the son of devout Catholics. Chidiock was interrogated in 1583 about some ‘popish relics’ that he had brought back from abroad, where he had gone without leave; and in June 1586 accusations about ‘popish practices’ were laid against his family. He was close to Babington and they often met in a barber’s shop by Bishopsgate, where they and other conspirators had their portrait painted. At the end, when Babington found Chidiock in Smithfield, he had a mysteriously injured leg and was ‘almost too lame to hobble’. In court, he confessed he knew of the treasons and concealed them, but denied active plotting. ‘That I knew of these treasons and concealed them I must confess I am guilty.’ As he awaited execution he wrote a sad, despairing poem, which can be found in many anthologies of English verse (see page 422).

  Robert Barnwell: he belonged to a prominent Dublin family and used to attend Elizabeth’s court in the retinue of the Earl of Kildare. He was apparently well known to the Queen. One of Walsingham’s agents left a brief physical description of him as tall and rugged, comely, white-faced, flaxen-bearded, freckled, and disfigured with smallpox. At trial he said he never supported plans to assassinate the Queen. ‘I never intended harm to Her Majesty’s person, but I confess I knew thereof.’ He also confessed that he saw Elizabeth at Richmond and later reported to Babington ‘how easily she might be surprised’.

  Edward Abingdon: aged thirty-three, he was a member of the Queen’s Guard and was the eldest son of John Abingdon of Hindlip, Worcestershire, Under-Treasurer to Queen Elizabeth. Edward was educated at Exeter College, Oxford, and took his BA in 1574. In court it was said he was aware of Savage’s conspiracy by spring 1586, having met him at Barnard’s where his brother was studying law. Having been found guilty, Abingdon said: ‘That brainless youth Babington, whose proud stomach and ambitious mind incensed him to commit most abominable treasons, hath been the cause to shed the blood of others guiltless of his actions.’ He at first denied any knowledge of Ballard but on being confronted with him admitted he had met him some years ago at Chertsey and again four years later when Ballard came to his lodging at Charing Cross. He told the court he would rather be drawn to Tyburn by the heels than countenance an invasion by Spain.

  Charles Tilney: born 23 September 1561, in Suffolk, he was cousin to courtier Edmund Tilney, Master of the Revels. Charles became a gentleman pensioner at court (a member of the Queen’s Guard) and later converted to Catholicism. He was aware of Savage’s conspiracy by March 1586. He confessed that at the Three Tuns tavern in Newgate Market, Babington had suggested to him and Abingdon a proposal to ‘remove’ Lord Burghley and Sir Francis Walsingham. He also confessed to receiving the priest Ballard at his chambers in Westminster. On being told that Babington named him as one of six men delegated to kill the Queen, he scoffed: ‘Babington told him so! That proves that Babington forsooth will be a statesman, when God knows he is a man of no gravity.’ He vehemently denied the charges against him and said he only met Babington on three occasions.

  The Second Seven Executed

  Thomas Salisbury: aged about twenty-five, he came from an important landed family of Lleweni Hall, Denbighshire. In 1578 Thomas became the head of the household and ward of the Earl of Leicester. He went to Trinity College, Oxford, in 1580, where he seems to have moved in Catholic circles. He and Babington were said to have been ‘bedfellows for a quarter of a year or more’ near Temple Bar, just outside London. This could simply mean that they shared lodgings. Salisbury was a powerful influence on Edward Jones. At trial he said he had always protested he would not kill Elizabeth ‘for a kingdom’. But he admitted plotting to free Mary, inciting rebellion and supporting plans for a Spanish invasion. He begged the Queen’s merciful pardon but did not
receive it.

  Robert Gage : he came from Haling, Surrey (now part of Croydon), and was a cousin of the Jesuit martyr Robert Southwell. He was converted to Catholicism by John Ballard and was confessed by him at a house in Holborn before Christmas 1585. In the fateful year 1586, he rode with Ballard to the north, as his manservant. On arrest, he was charged with knowing Ballard as a priest and being reconciled by him. Gage was one of those who fled into the woods with Babington. In court, when asked why, he said, ‘For the company’ – and refused to say more.

  Edward Jones: from Plas Cadwgan, Denbighshire, he was the son of another Edward, Master of the Wardrobe to Queen Elizabeth, and a former sheriff of Denbighshire. The father was a protégé of the Earl of Leicester, to whom he recommended his son. Edward junior turned to Catholicism under the influence of Thomas Salisbury, who involved him in the plot. He and Travers were deputed to spark a rebellion in north Wales, but they were reluctant to do so. In fact, Jones did his best to remove his friend Salisbury from Babington’s influence. Jones aided Salisbury’s abortive escape by lending him his horse and his servant’s cloak. At his house in Denbighsire he said to Travers: ‘Salisbury has brought us all to destruction.’ At trial he explained his awful dilemma: he said he had the alternatives of betraying his friend Salisbury, whom he loved as himself, or of breaking his allegiance to his sovereign. He chose friendship – and paid a terrible price.

  John Travers: he came from Prescott, Lancashire, a hotbed of Catholic resistance, and served in the Spanish army with Savage and Charnock. When the plot was discovered, he fled to Jones’s house in Denbighshire. They had both been introduced to the enterprise by Salisbury. He denied having any treasonable conversation with Babington. He is said to have commented that ‘Savage’s sudden bravery would bewray all their matters [leave them all open to harm]’.

  John Charnock : one of the six who had agreed to assassinate Elizabeth, he also came from Lancashire (like Travers). He admitted that Ballard had acquainted him with the treasonous plans. Along with Savage, he had been a soldier in the Spanish army and considered him a good friend. They met again at Barnard’s Inn where they both studied law. Charnock had promised to do anything to assist Mary Queen of Scots.

  Henry Dunn: he was a Londoner and a clerk of the First Fruits Office; he was probably a relative of John Donne, the poet. He was approached by his acquaintance Babington in June 1586, having been recommended by Ballard, who had already confided the invasion plot to him. When Babington sounded him out on the assassination idea, Dunn would have none of it. However, at trial, he confessed he was involved in the conspiracy for his religion and conscience’s sake – and prayed God they would be successful. ‘Fiat voluntas dei ’ – May God’s will be done.

  Jerome Bellamy: he was the son of a devout Catholic family who lived in a moated hall at Uxendon, north-west of London. When Babington (whom he already knew) arrived at the house hungry and hunted, Jerome and his brother Bartholomew helped the fugitives with shelter and food. Jerome was later tried and executed but Bartholomew never made it to court, having died in prison – either on the rack or (the official version) having committed suicide. In the ensuing years, the family was destroyed, largely by the actions of the priesthunter and torturer Richard Topcliffe.

  The poem of Chidiock Tichbourne, said to have been written on the eve of his execution

  My prime of youth is but a frost of cares.

  My feast of joy is but a dish of pain.

  My crop of corn is but a field of tares,*

  And all my good is but vain hope of gain.

  The day is gone and yet I saw no sun.

  And now I live, and now my life is done.

  The spring is past, and yet it has not sprung.

  The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves are green.

  My youth is gone, and yet I am but young.

  I saw the world and yet I was not seen.

  My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun.

  And now I live, and now my life is done.

  I sought my death and found it in my womb.

  I looked for life and saw it was a shade.

  I trod the earth and knew it was my tomb.

  And now I die, and now I am but made.

  The glass is full, and now the glass is run.

  And now I live, and now my life is done.

  *weeds

  What Became of Gilbert Gifford

  The youthful Gilbert Gifford – who was twenty-six at the time of the events in this book but looked like a teenage boy – was the key to bringing down Mary Queen of Scots and the Babington plotters. His actions earned the eternal gratitude of Sir Francis Walsingham and Queen Elizabeth and they awarded him a pension. So why, when the arrest of the conspirators was imminent, did he flee to France?

  It is possible that he realised there could be a terrible fall-out from the discovery of the plot – that the innocent might well suffer along with the guilty to protect the reputations of great men. Certainly that other Walsingham spy Robert Poley found himself incarcerated for a year despite his work shadowing Babington.

  But it may be that, for all his protestations, Walsingham wanted Gifford to return to France, where he could easily insinuate himself back into the world of the Catholic seminaries and continue his spying.

  He had all the attributes of a spy. He spoke fluent French and enjoyed going by a variety of aliases. He was known variously as Colderin, Number Four, Pietro, Cornelys, The Secret Party or simply GG. He had escaped from England pretending to be a servant to Monsieur Dujardin of the French embassy.

  His first act on arriving in Paris was to go to the Spanish ambassador, Bernardino de Mendoza, and ask him to send a letter to the Babington plotters urging them to proceed with the assassination of Elizabeth. Mendoza agreed to this and sent two letters, one in Italian and one in Latin.

  It is likely that Gifford assumed the letters would be intercepted by Walsingham’s searchers, thus strengthening the case against Mary and the conspirators. But the letters never reached England, having been retrieved by Mary’s agent in Paris, Thomas Morgan.

  This was not the end of Gifford’s double-dealing activities, however. He returned to Rheims and was ordained a priest but a year later he was caught in a brothel, having his way with a whore.

  He was imprisoned – the charge itself is not clear, although it might relate to his part in destroying Mary Queen of Scots

  – and yet even from his cell he managed to send reports of the movements of various priests back to his masters in England. He died in gaol three years later.

  Babington’s Last Letter

  On the morning of the day he fled in August 1586, Anthony Babington wrote an elegant and anguished letter to Robert ‘Robin’ Poley, the Walsingham spy he had believed to be his friend and who was now missing. I contend that this letter reveals a great deal more about their relationship than is generally acknowledged.

  This is what Babington wrote:

  ROBIN, Sollicitae non possunt curae mutare aranei stamina fusi [nor care nor cunning ever mends of spider’s threads the broken ends]. I am ready to endure whatever shall be inflicted. Et facere et pati Romanorum est [to do and to suffer is the virtue of a Roman]. What my course has been towards Mr Secretary you can witness, what my love towards you, yourself can best tell. Proceedings at my lodgings have been very strange. I am the same I always pretended. I pray God you be, and ever so remain towards me. Take heed to your own part, lest of these my misfortunes you bear the blame. Est exilium inter malos vivere [to live among the wicked is as bad as exile].

  Farewell, sweet Robin, if as I take thee, true to me. If not, adieu, omnium bipedum nequissimus [of all two-footed things the most wicked].

  Return me your answer for my satisfaction, and my diamond, and what else you will. The furnace is prepared wherein our faith must be tried. Farewell until we meet, which God knows when.

  Thine, how far thou knowest, ANTHONY BABINGTON

  In fact, Poley was by then in gaol. His master,
Sir Francis Walsingham (in whose household he lived), clearly wanted him out of the way so that the world would not know he had infiltrated the Babington conspiracy with his spies. A year later, long after the execution of the Babington plotters, Poley was freed to continue his secret work. Among other things, he was employed as a special envoy to Denmark in 1588 and in the 1590s he was used as a spy in Flanders. Along the way, he is believed to have poisoned the Archbishop of Armagh. He also spent more time in gaol for ‘using lewd words against Walsingham’ – and then seduced the gaoler’s wife! And in 1593 he was to be found in a small room in Deptford with the dead body of the playwright Christopher Marlowe, who had been stabbed in the eye.

  There can be no doubt that Poley, a Cambridge graduate of gentry stock – but born poor – was a dangerous and duplicitous man. He claimed to be a Catholic, but some Catholics found him obsequious and never trusted him. Even Walsingham and his top agents had their doubts. Francis Mills called him ‘a notable knave’ and Thomas Phelippes was jealous of his closeness to Walsingham.

  So what exactly was Poley’s relationship with Babington? I suggest they almost certainly had a homosexual love affair. The whole tenor of the letter speaks of an intimacy a great deal deeper than mere friendship. And the final line – Thine, how far thou knowest – confirms it for me. Homosexuality was illegal in the sixteenth century, the love that dared not speak its name.