towards the end of the twentieth century should be concerned with the issue of terrorism. This is an issue, for better or for worse, which has to be considered in order to understand the unfolding histories of Northern Ireland and Israel/Palestine – to take only two possible examples. Meanwhile we have a phenomenon in which a number of today’s world leaders have in the past been involved – on their own recognition – in terrorist activities and have morally justified them on grounds of national or religious interest. It is for this reason I have given my book the subtitle of Terror and Faith in 1605.
One should, however, bear in mind that the word ‘terror’ can refer to two different kinds. There is the terror of partisans, of freedom fighters, or of any other guerrilla group, carried out for the higher good of their objectives. Then there is the terror of governments, directed towards dissident minorities. The problem of subjects who differ from their rulers in religion (have they the moral right to differ?) is one that runs throughout this book.
There is a similar contemporary relevance of a very different sort in the stories of the various Catholic women who found themselves featuring in the subterranean world of the Gunpowder Plot. At a time when women’s role in the Christian Churches, especially the Catholic Church, is under debate, I was both interested and attracted by the role played by these strong, devout, courageous women. At the time Catholic priests compared them to the holy women of the Bible who followed Jesus Christ. Some were married with the responsibilities of families in a dangerous age; others chose the single path with equal bravery. Ironically enough, it was the perceived weakness of women which enabled them to protect the forbidden priests where others could not do so. Circumstances gave them power; they used it well.
Above all, throughout my narrative, I have been concerned to convey actuality: that is to say, a sense of what an extraordinarily dramatic story it was, with all its elements of tragedy, brutality, heroism – and even, occasionally and unexpectedly, its more relaxed moments, which sometimes occurred after unsuccessful searches for Catholic priests in their hiding-places. For this reason I have paid special attention to the topography of the Plot, including the details of these secret refuges, many of which are still to be seen today. Of course hindsight can never be avoided altogether, especially in untangling such an intricate story as that of the Gunpowder Plot: but at least I have tried to write as though what happened on 5 November 1605 was not a foregone conclusion.
In order to tell a complicated story as clearly as possible, I have employed the usual expedients. I have modernised spelling where necessary, and dated letters and documents as though the calendar year began on I January as it does now, instead of 25 March, as it did then. I have also tried to solve the problem of individuals changing their names (on receipt of titles) by preferring simplicity to strict chronological accuracy: thus Robert Cecil, 1st Earl of Salisbury, is known as Cecil and then Salisbury, missing out his intermediate title of Viscount Cranborne.
In writing this book, I owe a great deal to the many works of the many scholars acknowledged in the References. For further assistance, I would like to single out and thank the following: Mr Felipe Fernandez-Armesto for historical corrections and suggestions (surviving errors are my responsibility); Dr S. Bull, Lancashire County Museums, for allowing me to read his thesis ‘Furie of the Ordnance’; Fr Michael Campbell Johnston S.J. for letting me see the Gunpowder Plot MS. of the late Fr William Webb S.J.; Dr Angus Constam of the Royal Armouries; Fr Francis Edwards S.J., whose friendship and support I value, despite our different conclusions on the subject of the Gunpowder Plot; Mr D.L. Jones, Librarian, House of Lords; Mr John V. Mitchell,