CHAPTER EIGHT.
THE TEMPEST THAT FOLLOWED.
"O yet, in scorn of mean relief, Let Sorrow bear her heavenly fruit! Better the wildest hour of grief Than the low pastime of the brute! Better to weep, for He wept too, Than laugh as every fool can do."
Hon. Robert Lytton.
"Heard you the news, friends?" asked Mr Holland, coming into the Lamb,on the evening of the 14th of August.
"News!" cried Dr Thorpe. "I am aweary of the news. There is news everyday. My Lord A. to the Tower, and my Lord B. delivered thence; and myLord C. to the Marshalsea; and my Lord D. to the Fleet; and my Lord E.,that yesterday carried the sword afore the Queen, to-day hath his headstruck off; and my Lord F., that was condemned to die yestereven, shallbear the Queen's sword this morrow. Pshaw! I am tired of it. 'Tis agame of tables [backgammon], with players that have no skill, and carefor nought saving to rattle the dice."
Mr Holland laughed a moment, but immediately grew grave.
"But heard you my news?" said he. "Do you know Father Rose isdeprived?"
All cried out together. They had looked for this indeed, but not now.Six months thence, when the Protestant Bishops were all sequestered, andthe Prebendaries in the Marshalsea, Bishop Gardiner might stoop tolesser game; but that one of the very first blows should be struck at MrRose, this they had not expected. It showed how formidable an enemy hewas considered.
"Deprived!" cried all the voices together.
"Ay, 'tis too true," said Mr Holland. "As a preacher, we shall hear hisvoice no more."
"The lambs are like to fare ill," growled Dr Thorpe, "when all the greatwolves be let forth in a pack."
"Ah, mine old friend!" answered John, "not many weeks gone, you said ofmy Lord of Northumberland, `Will none put this companion in the Tower?'Methinks so many henceforward will scarce be over, ere you may say thelike with tears of Stephen Gardiner. The fox is in the Tower; but thewolf is out."
"You speak but truth," said Mr Holland. "And now, my masters, aftermine ill news, I fear you will scarcely take it well of me to bid you toa wedding; yet for that came I hither."
"Is this a time for marrying and giving in marriage?" groaned Dr Thorpe.
"I think it is," answered Mr Holland, stoutly. "The more disease[discomfort] a man hath abroad, the more comfort he lacketh at home."
"But who is to be married?" asked John.
"I am," answered Mr Holland. "Have you aught against it?"
"You!" cried Avery, in a voice of astonishment, which Mr Hollandunderstood to imply the reverse of flattery.
"Upon my word, you are no losenger!" [flatterer] saith he. "Have I twoheads, or four legs, that you think no maid should have me? or is mytemper so hot that you count I shall lead her a dog's life? or what seeyou in me, body or soul, to make you cry out in that fashion?"
"Nay, man," replied John, laughing, "thou art a proper man enough, andas tall of thy hands as any in Aldersgate; and for thy temper, a dovewere crabbed in comparison. I did but think thou wert wedded to thycloths and thy napery."
"You thought I took counsel of velvet, and solaced myself withbroidery!" laughed Mr Holland. "Nay, friend; when I take a wife, I willnot wed a piece of Lincoln green."
"And who, pray you, is the bride?"
"Why, Avery, I had thought you should have guessed that without asking.Who should it be, but mine old and true friend, Bessy Lake?"
"Then I give you joy," said John, "for you have chosen well."
Mr Holland's wedding took place at the Church of Saint GilesCripplegate, in August [it was in the first year of Queen Mary; exactdate unknown]. Bessy Lake, the bride, proved a very gentle,amiable-looking woman, not pretty, but not unpleasing, and by at leastten years the senior of her bridegroom. After the ceremony, the weddingparty repaired to Mr Holland's house. Mr Rose was present, with hiswife and Thekla; and Mr Ferris; and Mr Ive and Helen, who brought MrsUnderhill's three elder little girls, Anne, Christian, and Eleanor.Augustine Bernher did not appear until after dinner. Mrs Rose andIsoult had a little quiet conversation; the former was still lookingforward to further troubles, and plainly thought Mr Holland was courtingsorrow.
"But thank God he is not a priest!" she said; and the tears rose to hereyes.
Meanwhile, John and Mr Rose were engaged in their private discourse. Itwas settled between them that the same day, two years later--August20th, 1555--should be the date fixed, before which, if Robin should nothave been ordained, he should give up the expectation of it, and marryThekla. Mr Holland, being taken into confidence, not only expressed hissense of the wisdom of this arrangement, but at once offered, if Robinwished it, to receive him without premium. This part of the subject,however, was left for future decision.
Helen Ive brought word from Mrs Underhill, that Mr Throgmorton hadreadily promised to intercede for his cousin, as soon as he found asatisfactory opportunity; which meant, when certain members of theCouncil, adverse to Underhill, should be absent.
The persecution had begun in good earnest now. The imprisonment ofBishop Ridley and Mr Underhill, and the deprivation of Mr Rose, wereonly the beginning of sorrows. On the 16th of August, Mr John Bradfordof Manchester was sent to the Tower; and Mr Prebendary Rogers confinedto his own house, nor allowed to speak with any person out of it. Andon Friday and Saturday, the 18th and 19th, were condemned to death inthe high court at Westminster, the great Duke of Northumberland, who somany years had been all but a king in England; and the Marquis ofNorthampton, and the Earl of Warwick (son of the Duke), and Sir AndrewDudley, the Duke's brother, and Sir Thomas Palmer. The judges were theLord Treasurer, and the old Duke of Norfolk, the last only just releasedfrom the Tower, where he had been a prisoner seven years.
"God's mill grindeth slowly, but it grindeth small." He sitteth at thedisposing of the lots--there is no blind chance, for Him: and it was theLord who had these sinners in derision, who sat above the water-floods,and stilled the raging of the people.
And if God's earthly judgments, that come now and then, be so terrific,what shall be that last judgment of His Great White Throne, when _every_man shall receive the things done in the body?
The great traitors--Northumberland and Palmer--the lesser traitor,Northampton,--and the innocent Warwick, were tried and sentenced todeath. On the following morning, mass was sung in the Tower; and theDuke, the Marquis of Northampton, Sir Andrew Dudley, Sir Harry Gates,and Sir Thomas Palmer, received the sacrament in one kind only. Thenthe Duke, turning to those present (who were many) said "he had beenseduced these sixteen years by the false and erroneous doctrine of thenew preachers (namely, the Gospel), but he was now assured and didbelieve that the Sacrament there present was our Saviour and Redeemer,Jesus Christ." Then he knelt down and asked of all men forgiveness, andsaid he forgave all men. The Duke of Somerset's sons were standing by(who had something to forgive that miserable sinner), and the Lady Janesaw the Duke pass by to the chapel from her window.
"Lo' you now!" said John, "this was the chosen head of the Lutheranparty!"
"He was never mine," replied Dr Thorpe.
"How long is it sithence you were a Lutheran?" answered he.
"Go thy ways, Jack!" was all Dr Thorpe would say.
In the evening Mr Ive came in; who said he had been to Newgate to visithis friend, Mr Underhill.
"And poor Underhill," said he, "is fallen sick of a burning ague in thatloathsome gaol. He doth account the cause to be the evil savours andthe unquietness of the lodging; as may be also the drinking of a strongdraught wherein his fellow-prisoner would needs have him to pledge him.He can take no rest, desiring to change his lodging, and so hath he donefrom one to an other; but none can he abide, having so much noise of theprisoners and naughty savours. Now his wife hath leave to come unto himfor to tend him in his sickness; but he is constrained to pay eightpenceevery meal, and as much for her."
"And how is he treated of Alisaunder?" said John. "Not over well, Iwarrant you."
"Nay, there you are o
ut," said Mr Ive; "for (as Underhill told me), thevery first night that he went in, one of the prisoners took acquaintanceof him, whose name was Bristo, and would have him to have a bed in hischamber. He had been with Sir Richard Cromwell in his journey toLandrecies, that Underhill also was in, and could play well on a rebeck,and was a Protestant, which yet he kept secret, or (saith he toUnderhill), `I had never found such favour as I do at the keeper's handand his wife's; for to such as love the Gospel they be verycruel.'--`Well (saith Underhill), I have sent for my Bible, and, byGod's grace, therein shall be my daily exercise. I will not hide itfrom them.'--`Sir (answered he), I am poor, but they will bear with you,for that they see your estate is to pay well; and I will show you thenature and manner of them, for I have been here a good while. They bothdo love music very well; wherefore you with your lute, and I with myrebeck, will please them greatly. He loveth to be merry and to drinkwine, and she also; and if you will bestow upon them every dinner andsupper a quart of wine and some music, you shall be their white son[favourite], and have all their favour that they can show you.' And so,as Underhill told me, he found it come to pass."
"And where is the babe?" said Isoult, pityingly.
"My Nell hath little Guilford," answered Mr Ive, "and maketh as much adoof him, as she were his own mother. Concern you not for him; with God'sblessing, the child shall fare well."
On Tower Hill, whither they had sent so many better than themselves, onthe 22nd of August, Sir John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, and SirThomas Palmer, ended their wretched and evil lives. With them died SirJohn Gates.
The Duke rehearsed his confession, as he had made it in the chapel;avowing himself to be of the old learning, "and a Christian now, forthese sixteen years I have been none." Which last was the truth. Andhe said, "he would every man not to be covetous, for that had been agreat part of his destruction." And so he tied the handkerchief overhis own eyes, and lay down on the block, and his head was struck off.
So ended this miserable man; for whom it had been a thousand timesbetter that he had never been born, than to have destroyed himself andEngland together, and to have offended so bitterly Christ's little ones.
After him came Sir John Gates, who said little, and would have nohandkerchief over his eyes; and his head fell at the third blow.
Last came Sir Thomas Palmer, "nothing in whose life became him like theleaving it." For when the people bade him good morrow, he said,--"I donot doubt but that I have a good morrow, and that I shall have a bettergood even." And then he went on to tell them, "that he had beenlawfully condemned, and that he did therein thank God for His mercy: forthat sithence his coming into the Tower, he had seen himself, howutterly and verily vile his soul was--yea, he did not think any sin tobe, that he had not plunged even into the midst of it [Note 1]; I and hehad moreover seen how infinite were God's mercies, and how Jesus sittetha Redeemer at the right hand of God, by whose means His people shalllive eternally. For I have learned (said he) more in one little darkcorner in yonder Tower, than ever I learned by any travail in so manyplaces as I have been." And he desired the people to pray for him, forhe "did in no wise fear death." So, taking the executioner by the hand,he said he forgave him heartily, but entreated him not to strike till hehad said a few prayers, "and then he should have good leave." And so heknelt down, and laid his head on the block, and prayed; then lifting hishead again, once more asked all present to pray for him; and so againlaid down his head, which was stricken from him at one stroke.
And that night Isoult Avery wrote in her diary--"Verily, I do know thatthe mercies of God are infinite; and I bless Him heartily therefor. Buthad I been to say any that I knew which was little like to come untothem, I had named this man. God be lauded if He hath shown him what issin, and what is Christ, in his last hours, and hath so received him upto that His infinite mercy. I marvel what sort shall be the meetingbetwixt my Lord, and George Bucker, and the Duke of Somerset, and him."
At length Mr Throgmorton found his expected opportunity, and offered hispetition for Mr Underhill's release. This petition set forth "hisextreme sickness and small cause to be committed unto so loathsome agaol," and besought that he might therefore be released, offeringsureties to be forthcoming when called upon: these were to be himselfand his brother-in-law John Speryn, a merchant of London, and a man"very zealous in the Lord." Poor Underhill was still very seriouslyill. "I was cast," he tells us, "into an extreme burning ague, that Icould take no rest; desiring to change my lodging, and so did from oneto an other, but none I could abide, there was so much noise ofprisoners and evil savours. The keeper and his wife offered me his ownparlour, where he lay himself, which was furthest from noise, but it wasnear the kitchen, the savour whereof I could not abide. Then did shelodge me in a chamber wherein she said never no prisoner lay, which washer store-chamber, where she said all the plate and money lay, which wasmuch." [Harl. Ms. 425, folio 91, a.] Mr Ive reported that Mr Underhillcould be no weaker than he was, and live. His friend Dr Record had beento see him in the prison, whom he describes as "Doctor of Physic,singularly seen [very skilful] in all the Seven Sciences [Grammar,Rhetoric, Logic, Arithmetic, Geometry, Music, and Astronomy], and agreat devyne." Mr Rose took his deprivation very quietly. Some of hisfriends thought he might be all the safer for it, if the persecutors haddone all they cared about doing to him. He had hired three rooms forthe present in a house in Leadenhall Street. Tidings of furtherpersecution came now daily. "Robin's orders do seem going further offthan ever," lamented Isoult. For Bishops Hooper of Gloucester andCoverdale of Exeter were cited before the Council; and the Archbishop,and the Dean of Saint Paul's; and mass was now celebrated in manychurches of London. A rumour went abroad of the lapsing of theArchbishop, and that he had sung mass before the Queen; but it provedfalse. Again the altar was set up in Saint Paul's Cathedral; and whenBishop Bonner came from the Marshalsea, great rejoicing was made. Manyby the way bade him welcome home, and "as many of the women as mightkissed him." No Gospeller would have kissed him for a King's ransom.On the 5th of September came Mr Ive, with news of Mr Underhill at oncegood and bad. He was released from Newgate, but was so weak and illthat they were obliged to carry him home in a horse-litter, and thegaoler's servant bore him down the stairs to the litter in his arms likea child; and for all this, those who accompanied him (Mrs Underhill, MrSperyn, Mr Ive, and others) were afraid lest he should not live till hecame home. They were compelled to go very gently, and frequently tohalt; so that two hours were required to pass through the city, fromNewgate to Aldgate, and night fell before he could get to his house:where he now remained in the same weak and deplorable state, and all theGospellers were asked to pray for him.
To the great relief of all Protestants, the Archbishop published aletter in which he utterly denied that he had ever said or promised tosay mass, to gain favour with the Queen.
"I could have told you so much," said John. "My Lord Archbishop is notthe man to curry Favelle."
"Now, I had thought he rather were," said Dr Thorpe.
"One of your Lutheran fantasies," answered John.
Which rather annoyed the old man, who did not like to be reminded thathe was or had been a Lutheran; and such reminders he occasionallyreceived from Mr John Avery.
"Have you the news?" said Mr Rose, on the evening of the 14th ofSeptember.
"Which news?" asked John. "We know all, methinks, touching my LordArchbishop, and the Bishops of Gloucester and Exeter, and that Mr Deanis cited. What more?"
"And that Mr Latimer is had to the Tower?"
"Alack, no!" cried Isoult. "Is it assuredly so?"
"I shake hands with him on his way, and saw him go in," answered MrRose, sorrowfully.
"With what cheer?"
"As bright and merry as ever I did see him. The warder at the gate wasWill Rutter, whom he knew of old; and quoth he to him, `What, my oldfriend! how do you? I am now come to be your neighbour again.' And sowent in smiling, and is lodged in the garden, in Sir Thomas Palmer
'slodging."
"He is a marvellous man," replied John.
"My Lord of Canterbury," pursued Mr Rose, "likewise came into the Toweryesterday. He is lodged in the gate against the Water-gate, where myLord of Northumberland lay."
"To the same end, I count, for both?" said Dr Thorpe, bitterly.
"The Lord knoweth," answered Mr Rose, "and `the Lord reigneth.'"
"And will they put down the service-book, think you?" said he.
"They will put down everything save God," said Mr Rose, solemnly; "andHim also, could they but get at Him."
Before September was over, John and Isoult rode to the Limehurst tovisit Mr Underhill. They found him in very good spirits for an invalidin a very weak condition, and he said he was improving every day, andhad a long tale to tell them when his strength would permit. MrsUnderhill had been compelled to present herself before the Council inorder to procure his release, and had there to endure a severe scoldingfrom Lord Winchester for the relationship in which little Guilford hadbeen placed to Lady Jane Grey. She bore it quietly, and got for herreward a letter to the keeper of Newgate, signed by Winchester, Sussex,Bedford, Rochester, and Sir Edward Waldegrave, ordering the release ofMr Underhill, who was to be bound before a magistrate, in conjunctionwith her brother, Mr Speryn, to appear when summoned.
The progress of the Retrogression--for such it may be fairly termed--wasswifter than that of the Reformation had been. "Facilis descensusAverni,"--this is the usual course. High mass was restored in SaintPaul's Cathedral, and in very few London churches were Gospel sermonsyet preached. With bitter irony, liberty was granted to Bishop Ridley--to hear mass in the Tower Chapel. Liberty to commit idolatry was notlikely to be used by Nicholas Ridley. The French Protestants weredriven out, except a few named by the Ambassador; Cranmer, Latimer,Hooper, Coverdale, were cited before the Council; and on the 28th ofSeptember, the Queen came to the Tower, in readiness for her coronation.
At one o'clock on the 30th, the royal procession set forth, fitlypreceded by a crowd of knights, doctors, bishops, and peers. After themrode the Council; and then the new Knights of the Bath, to create whomit had been the custom, the day previous to the coronation. The sealand mace were carried next, between the Lord Chancellor (BishopGardiner) and the Lord Treasurer, William Paulet, Marquis of Winchester.The old Duke of Norfolk followed, with Lord Arundel on his right, andLord Oxford on his left, bearing the swords of state. Sir EdwardHastings, on foot, led the Queen's horse. She sat in a chariot oftissue, trapped with red velvet, and drawn by six horses. Mary wasdressed in blue velvet, bordered with ermine, and on her head shecarried not only a caul of tinsel set with gold and stones, but also agarland of goldsmith's work, so massive that she was observed to "bearup her head with her hands." She was subject to violent headaches, andin all probability was suffering from one now. A canopy was borne overher chariot. In the second chariot, which was "all white, and sixhorses trapped with the same," sat the heiress presumptive of England,the Princess Elizabeth, "with her face forward, and the Lady Anne ofCleve, with her back forward:" both ladies were attired in crimsonvelvet. Then came "four ladies of estate riding upon horses"--theeccentric old Duchess of Norfolk; the Marchioness of Winchester;Gertrude, the long-tried Marchioness of Exeter; and Mary Countess ofArundel, niece of Lady Lisle. Both riders and horses were apparelled incrimson velvet. The third chariot, covered with cloth of gold, and thehorses similarly caparisoned, while the peeresses within were clad incrimson velvet--two ladies on horseback, in crimson velvet--the fourthand fifth chariots, and more ladies on horseback, to the total number offorty-six, and all in crimson velvet--these followed one another in duecourse. Last came the Queen's women, riding upon horses trapped incrimson satin, and attired in the same material. Among them, the thirdof the eight maids of honour, looked out the sweet face of Anne Basset,gentlest of "her Highness' women." [Note 2.]
And so closed this crimson pageant, meet inauguration of England'sbloodiest reign. Of other pageants there was no lack; but I pass themby, as also the airy gyrations of Peter the Dutchman on the weathercockof Saint Paul's.
On the west side of the Cathedral was a sight which more amazed theparty of sight-seers from the Lamb than any other with which they hadmet that day. This was the Hot Gospeller, who had literally risen fromhis bed to see the pageant. Mr Edward Underhill sat upon a horse--buthe shall describe his own appearance, for it must have been remarkable."Scant able to sit, girded in a long night-gown, with double kerchiefsabout my head, a great hat upon them, my beard dubed hard too, my faceso leane and pale that I was the very image of death, wondered at of allthat did behold me, unknown to any. My wife and neighbours were toto[too-too, an archaism for _very_] sorry that I would needs go forth,thinking I would not return alive. Then went I forth, having of eitherside of me a man to stay me... When the Queen passed by, ... many of myfellows the Pensioners and divers of the Council beheld me, and none ofthem all knew me." [Note 3.]
"Why, Ned!" cried John, "are you able to sit thus on an horse and mix incrowds?"
"No," said he.
"Then," he answered, "what brought you hither?"
"Marry, mine own obstinate resolvedness," said Mr Underhill, laughingfeebly, "that neither my Jane, nor Jack Speryn, nor Ive, could combat."
John rode with his friend to the Limehurst, and saw him safe home, tothe great relief of Mrs Underhill, who declared that she had not had aminute's rest since he set out, expecting every hour to receive someterrible news concerning him.
Sunday, the 1st of October, was fixed for the coronation. That ceremonywas almost invariably on the Lord's Day. There was no service in theCathedral; for none but unmarried Bishops or priests would the Queenpermit to officiate before her; and there were very few of the first.Order was also issued that no married priest should minister again inany of the churches.
The Gospellers were reduced to stratagem. Since the churches wereclosed to them, they opened their own houses. By arrangement with MrRose, service was held in the Lamb on the evening of the Coronation Day,safety being secured by a preconcerted signal-tap. About forty personsgathered, exclusive of the families of the host and the minister. Asmall congregation; but a congregation of live souls, who were ready toyield life sooner than faith. The majority of congregations are hardlymade of that material now. "If all the real Christians were gatheredout of this church," once said William Romaine to his flock, "therewould not be enough to fill the vestry." How frightfully uncharitable!cries the nineteenth century--and I dare say the flock at Saint Anne'sthought so too. But there is a _charity_ towards men's souls, and thereis a charity towards men's feelings. If one of the two must bedispensed with, we shall wish in the great day of account that it hadbeen the latter. The two "keeping-rooms" of the Lamb--which they calledthe great and little chambers, but which we, their degeneratedescendants, might term the dining-room and drawing-room--were filledwith this living congregation; and Mr Rose read prayers from the nowprohibited Service-Book, and preached the prohibited doctrines. Beforeall had dispersed, Mr George Ferris made his appearance, and supped atthe Lamb, as did Mr Rose and Mr Holland, with their respective families.
After supper, Mr Ferris, leaning back in his chair, suddenly said,--"Ifyou list to know the order of her Highness' crowning, I am he that cantell you; for all this day have I been in Westminster Abbey and Hall."
He was universally encouraged to proceed.
"The Queen," said he, "came first by water to the old Palace, and theretarried she till about eleven of the clock. And thence went she afootto the Abbey, upon blue cloth railed in on every side; and she ware thesame array as she came in through London. Afore her went the Bishops(to wit, all the unwedded), their mitres on their heads and theircrosiers borne afore them. She was led betwixt old Tunstal of Durhamand an other Bishop, and right behind her came the Devil in the likenessof Stephen Gardiner, a-censing her and casting holy water upon her allthe way, which must needs have spoiled her brave blue velvet gown ereshe set foot in
the Abbey. In the Abbey was the throne, covered withbaudekyn; but I pray you, demand not of me a regular account of all thatwas done; for it was so many and sundry ceremonies that my weak headwill not hold them. I know only there was kneeling and courtesying andbowing and censing, and holy water, and a deal more of the liketrumpery, wherewith I am no wise compatient [the lost adjective of_compassion_]; and going up unto the altar, and coming down from it; andfive several times was she led thereto, once to offer there her pall ofbaudekyn and twenty shillings, and once, leaving her crimson velvetmantle behind the travers, she was laid down on a cushion afore thealtar, while four knights held the pall over her; and anointed withtedious and endless ceremonies; and crowned with three crowns (SaintEdward's, the imperial, and one made for her a-purpose) by the aforesaidStephen Gardiner; and a ring of gold set on her finger; and a braceletof precious stones and gold set upon her arm by the Master of the JewelHouse; and the sceptre given her of my Lord of Arundel (the oldtime-server!) and the ball, of the Lord Treasurer; and the regal ofgold, of the Bishop of Winchester; and the staff of Saint Edward, of myLord of Bath; and the spurs, of my Lord of Pembroke. Come, pray younow, let me take breath!--Well, after all this, the Bishops and noblesdid homage to her Highness; but the time would not serve for all, seeingthe homage to the altar had taken so much away; so they knelt in groups,and had a spokesman to perform for them. My Right Reverend Lord Bishopof Winchester was for himself and all other Bishops; old Norfolk stoodalone as a Duke (for all the other Dukes were in the Tower, either aliveor dead); the Lord Marquis of Winchester was for his order; my Lord ofArundel for the Earls, my Lord of Hereford for the Viscounts, and myLord of Burgavenny for the Barons. All these kissed her Highness' leftcheek; and all this time stood my Lord of Shrewsbury by her, aiding herto hold up the sceptre. Well then, believe it who will, my masters, butafter all this came the mass. And no sooner begun, than the Bishop ofLincoln and the Bishop of Hereford marched straight out of the church,mitres and all. It was nigh four of the clock ere her Grace came fromthe Abbey; and she came in a gown of purple velvet, with the crown uponher head, and every noble and noble lady following in cramoisie, and ontheir heads crownets [the old form of the word coronet] of gold. Threeswords were borne afore her, and a canopy over her, carried of theWardens of the Cinque Ports: and in one hand she held a sceptre of gold,and in the other a ball of gold, which she twirled and turned in herhand as she came. And no sooner had she set foot in the Hall, than thepeople fell a-scrambling for the cloth and rails. Yea, they were notcontent with the waste meat cast out of the kitchen to them, but theypulled down and carried off the kitchen also."
"Come, Ferris, be reasonable in your Romaunts," said Mr Holland.
"Who did ever hear any man to be reasonable in a Romaunt?" asked he."But this is not romance, 'tis truth. Why, the kitchen was but cast upof boards outside the Palace, for the time and occasion; and they madeit a waste indeed. It was candle-light ere her Grace took barge."
"But was there no pardon proclaimed?" said John.
"Lo' you, now! I forgat that. Ay, afore the anointing, my graciousLord Chancellor proclaimeth her Majesty's goodly pardon unto allprisoners whatsoever and wheresoever--save and except an handful only,to wit, such as were in the Marshalsea, and the Fleet, and the Tower,and such as had order to keep their houses, and sixty-two more."
"Why, that were to except them all!" cried Mr Holland.
"Nay, they excepted not them in Newgate, nor the Counter."
"A goodly procession of pardoned men!" said John.
"Well," said Dr Thorpe, after a short pause, "the Queen's reign is nowfairly established; what shall the end be?"
"Ask not me," replied Mr Ferris.
"We know what it shall be," answered Mr Rose, thoughtfully. "`I willoverturn, overturn, overturn, until He come whose right it is, and Iwill give it Him.' Let as pray for His coming. And in the mean timehave we a care that our loins be girded about, and our lamps burning;that when He cometh and knocketh, we may open unto Him immediately. Weshall be unready to open immediately, if our hands be overfull ofworldly matters. It were not well to have to say to Him, `Lord, let melay down this high post, and that public work, and these velvet robes,and this sweet cup, and this bitter one--and then I will open untoThee.' I had rather mine hand were on the latch of the door, lookingout for Him."
"But, Father Rose, men must see to public matters, and wear velvetrobes, and carry weights of all fashions--why, the world would standstill else!"
"Must men do these things, Master Ferris? yet be there two ways of doingthem. Believe me, there is one other thing they must do--they must meetChrist."
A jovial, merry, gallant gentleman was George Ferris; and a Protestant--of some sort. But he outlived the persecution. It was not of suchstuff as _his_ that martyrs were made. The gorgeous pageants were over,and the bitter suffering came back.
Parliament was opened on the 13th of November, with a solemn mass of theHoly Ghost, the Queen herself being present in her robes; but as soon asthe mass began, the Archbishop of York, and the Bishops of Lincoln andHereford, rose and attempted to walk out of the House. Hands were laidon the Bishop of Lincoln, and his Parliament robe taken from him; andupon confession of his faith, (which he made boldly) he was cited beforethe Council. The Archbishop and the Bishop of Hereford were suffered todepart for that time; but rumour ran that Hereford would soon bedeprived, being a married priest. Perhaps he was not made of metal thatwould bear the furnace; for God took His child home, before the day ofsuffering came. The rough wind was stayed again in the day of the eastwind. But on the 14th of November came a more woeful sight. For theprisoners in the Tower were led on foot to the Guild Hall, the axecarried before them, there to be judged. First walked the Archbishop ofCanterbury, his face cast down, between two others. Then followed theLord Guilford Dudley, also between two. After him came his wife, theLady Jane, apparelled in black, a black velvet book hanging at hergirdle, and another open in her hand. After her followed her twogentlewomen, and Lords Ambrose and Henry Dudley. The Archbishop wasattainted for treason, although he had utterly refused to subscribe theKing's letters patent for the disinheriting of his sisters.
Late in the evening Mr Ive looked in, to say that he hath spent all theday at the Guild Hall, and brought the sad news that the gentle LadyJane and all the Lords Dudley were condemned to death. It was expected,however, that the Queen would not suffer the sentence to be executed onher own cousin Lady Jane. The Archbishop, Mr Ive told them, came backto the Tower, looking as joyful as he had before been cast down. He wasentirely acquitted of treason, and remanded to be tried for heresy; forwhich he blessed God in the hearing of the Court.
"One step more," said Mr Rose to Avery, whom he met in Cheapside. "Theold service-book of King Henry must now be used, and the new of KingEdward put away; and in every church in London shall the mass be nextSunday or Monday. And Saint Katherine's Eve shall be processions, andSaint Nicholas shall go about as aforetime."
So, slowly and darkly, closed the black year, 1553.
Married priests forbidden to minister--the English Service-Bookprohibited--orders issued for every parish church to provide cross,censer, vestments, and similar decorations of the House of Baal--massfor the soul of King Edward in all the churches of London. It was notsix months since the boy had died, with that last touching prayer on hislips--"Lord God, preserve this realm from Papistry!" Was that prayerlost in the blue space it had to traverse, between that soul and thealtar of incense in Heaven? We know now that it was not. But it seemedutterly lost then. O Lord, we know not what Thou doest now. Give usgrace to wait patiently, to be content with Thy promise that we shallknow hereafter!
There was one bright spot visible to the tear-dimmed eyes of theGospellers, and only one. The Parliament had been prorogued, and theBloody Statute was not yet re-enacted. All statutes of premunire wererepealed, and all laws of King Edward in favour of reformation in theChurch. But that first and worst of all the penalties
remained as yetin the oblivion to which he had consigned it. But in recompense forthis, there was a very black cloud darkening the horizon of 1554. TheQueen had announced to her Parliament her intended marriage with PrincePhilip of Spain. All the old insular prejudices against foreigners roseup to strengthen the Protestant horror of a Spanish and Popish King.The very children in the streets were heard to cry, "Down with the Popeand the Spaniards!" Elizabeth would have known how to deal with such anemergency. But Mary was blind and deaf. Disregarding this outbreak ofpopular feeling, she went on, in the way which led to her ruin andEngland's. It was only one of the two which was irremediable. The onewas followed by a summer day of glory; the other closed only in thenight of death.
The first news which reached the Lamb in 1554, was the startlinginformation--if any information can be called startling in that age ofsudden and shocking events--that the night before, Mr Ive had beenhastily apprehended and committed to the Marshalsea. He was soonreleased, unhurt; but this occurrence quickened Mr Underhill's tardymovements. He had already made up his mind to remove from theLimehurst, where his abode was too well-known to the enemy; the arrestof his friend and neighbour determined him to go at once. He took "alittle house in a secret corner at the nether end of Wood Street,"Cheapside. About Epiphany was born Susan Bertie, the only daughter ofthe Duchess of Suffolk. Shortly before this the Emperor's Ambassadorscame over to treat concerning the Queen's marriage, and were pelted withsnowballs by children in the streets of the City. The vacant sees werefilled up by Popish divines; Cardinal Pole was invited to return toEngland (from which he had been so many years exiled), in the capacityof Legate; the Queen dissolved the Court of First Fruits, and commandedthat the title of "Head of the Church in earth" should be omitted fromthe enumeration of her titles in all future documents. Permissiongranted to Lady Jane to walk in the Queen's garden and on Tower Hillrevived for a moment the hopes of the Protestants so far as concernedher. No harm would come to her, they sanguinely repeated, if the Queenwere left to herself. Possibly they were fight. But what likelihoodwas there that Gardiner would so leave her? and--a question yet moreominous--what might Philip of Spain require in this matter? Men not yetsixty years of age could remember the time when, previous to themarriage of Katherine of Aragon, the Earl of Warwick, last survivingmale of the House of York, had been beheaded on Tower Hill. Oncebefore, the royal blood of England had been shed at the demand of Spain:might the precedent not be repeated now? The only difference being,that the victim then was a tercel gentle, and now it would be a whitedove.
In the middle of January, before his removal from the Limehurst, andwhen he was sufficiently recovered to "walk to London an easy pace," MrUnderhill made his appearance one afternoon in the Minories. He camewith the evident intention of telling his own story.
"And would you," said he, "hear the tale of my examination andimprisonment?"
"That would we, and with a right good will," answered Dr Thorpe,speaking for all. "We do know even what Mr Ive could tell us, butnothing further."
"Then what Ive could not tell you," resumed he, "take from me [theseincidents in Underhill's life are given almost entirely in his ownwords]. I guessed (and rightly so) what was the cause of mine arrest;to wit, a certain ballad that I had put forth against the Papists, andfor that I was a Sacramentary. Well, when I came into the Tower, wherethe Council sat, they were already busied with Dr Coxe and the LordFerrers; wherefore I was to wait. So I and my two men went to analehouse to dinner in the Tower, and after that repaired to the Councilchamber door, to be the first taken, for I desired to know my lot. Thencame Secretary Bourne to the door, looking as the wolf doth for a lamb;unto whom my two keepers delivered me, and he took me in greedily. TheEarl of Bedford was chief judge, next the Earl of Sussex, and SirRichard Southwell; and on the side next me sat the Earl of Arundel andLord Paget. By them stood Sir John Gage, the Constable, the Earl ofBath, and Mr Mason; at the board's end stood Sergeant Morgan andSecretary Bourne. And the Lord Wentworth stood in the bay window. Thenmy Lord of Bedford (who was my very friend, owing unto the chance that Ihad to recover his son, as I told you aforetime; yet would not now seemto be familiar with me, nor called me not by my name), said,--`Did notyou set a ballad of late in print?'--I kneeled down, saying, `Yes,truly, my Lord; is that the cause I am called before yourHonours?'--`Marry,' said Secretary Bourne, `you have one of them aboutyou, I am sure.'--`Nay truly, have I not,' said I.--Then took he one outof his bosom and read it over distinctly, the Council giving diligentear. When he had ended,--`I trust, my Lord,' said I, `I have notoffended the Queen's Majesty in the ballad, nor spoken against hertitle, but maintained it.'--`You have, sir,' said Morgan. `Yes, I candivide your ballad, and make a distinction in it, and so prove at theleast sedition in it.'--`Yea,' I said, `you men of law will make of amatter what ye list.'--`Lo!' said Sir Richard Southwell, `how he cangive a taunt! You maintain the Queen's title with the help of an arrantheretic, Tyndale.'--`You speak of Papists there, sir,' said Mr Mason.`I pray you, how define you a Papist?'--`Why,' said I, `it is not longsince you could define a Papist better than I.' With that some of themsecretly smiled, as the Lord of Bedford, Arundel, Sussex, and Paget. Ingreat haste Sir John Gage took the matter in hand. `Thou callest menPapists there,' said he; `who be they thou judgest to bePapists?'--`Sir,' said I, `I do name no man, nor I am not hither toaccuse any, nor none I will accuse; but your Honours do know that inthis controversy that hath been, some be called Papists and someProtestants.'--`But we will know whom thou judgest to be Papists, andthat we command thee upon thine allegiance to declare.'--`Sir,' said I,`I think if you look among the priests in Poules, ye shall find some old_mumpsimuses_ there.'--`_Mumpsimuses_, knave!' saith he, `_mumpsimuses_!thou art an heretic knave!' and sware a great oath.--Says the Earl ofBath, `I warrant him an heretic knave, indeed.'--`I beseech yourHonours,' said I (speaking to the Lords that sat at the table, for theseother that stood by be not now of the Council), `be my good Lords. Ihave offended no laws, and I have served the Queen's Majesty's fatherand her brother long time, and in their service have spent and consumedpart of my living, never having as yet any preferment or recompense, andthe rest of my fellows likewise, to our utter undoing, unless theQueen's Highness be good unto us; and for my part I went not forthagainst her Majesty, notwithstanding I was commanded, nor liked thosedoings.'--`No, but with your writings you will set us together by theears,' saith the Earl of Arundel.--`He hath spent his living wantonly,'saith Bourne, `and now saith he hath spent it in the King's service;which I am sorry for: he is come of a worshipful house inWorcestershire.' [Note 4]--`It is untruly said of you,' said I, `that Ihave spent my living wantonly. I never consumed no part thereof until Icame into the King's service, which I do not repent, nor doubted ofrecompense if either of my two masters had lived. I perceive you areBourne's son of Worcester, who was beholden unto my uncle Wynter, andtherefore you have no cause to be my enemy, nor you never knew me, nor Iyou, before now, which is too soon.'--`I have heard enough of you,' saidhe.--`So have I of you,' said I, `how that Mr Sheldone drave you out ofWorcestershire for your behaviour.'--With that came Sir Edward Hastingsfrom the Queen in great haste, saying, `My Lords, you must set allthings apart, and come forthwith to the Queen.'--Then said the Earl ofSussex, `Have this gentleman unto the Fleet, until we may talk furtherwith him.' (Although I was knave before of Master Gage.)--`To theFleet?' saith Master Southwell, `have him to the Marshalsea!'--`Have theheretic knave to Newgate!' saith Master Gage again.--`Call a couple ofthe guard here,' saith Bourne, `and there shall be a letter sent to thekeeper how he shall use him, for we have other manner of matters withhim than these.'--`So had ye need,' said I, `or else I care not foryou.'--`Deliver him to Mr Garret, the Sheriff,' said he, `and bid himsend him to Newgate.'--`My Lord (said I unto my Lord of Arundel, forthat he was next me, as they were rising) I trust you will not see methus used to be sent to Newgate; I am neither thief nor traitor.'--`Yeare a naughty fellow,' said he; `ye were alway tuting in the Duke
ofNorthumberland's ear, that ye were.'--`I would he had given better earunto me,' said I; `it had not been with him then as it is now.'--MrHastings pushing by me (mine old adversary, with whom I had beenaforetime wont to reason touching the Sacrament), I thought good toprove him, although he threatened before now.--`Sir,' said I, `I prayyou speak for me that I be not sent unto Newgate, but rather unto theFleet, which was first named. I have not offended. I am a gentleman,as you know, and one of your fellows, when you were of this band of thePensioners.'--Very quietly he said unto me, `I was not at the table, MrUnderhill, and therefore I can say nothing to it.' But I think he wasnot content with the place I was appointed to. Well, I count Ive toldyou all he saw, touching my progress to Master Sheriff, and thence toNewgate. But while I waited in the Sheriff's house, my Lord Russellheard my voice, and showed very sorry for me; and sent me on the morrowtwenty shillings, and every week as much while I was in Newgate. Icount Ive told you moreover of my sickness."
"Ay, and of the ill savours and noise that you could not abide," said DrThorpe; "and of your changing of your lodging; and how Dr Record didvisit you, and divers other things."
"Then he told you all," said Mr Underhill. "And now (for 'tis past nineof the clock) this great knave, rogue, and heretic, must be on his wayhome."
Mr Underhill left behind him a new ballad which he had lately published.Since it probably does not exist in print now, it shall be subjoined,and in the orthography of its author.
"Love God above all thyngs, and thy neyghboure as thy selffe; Thatt this is Crist's doctryne, no mane cane it denye; Wyche litle is regarded in Yngland's common wealthe, Wherefore greate plags att hande be, the realme for to distroye.
"`Do as thow woldest be done unto,' no place here he cane have, Off all he is remised, no mane wyll hym reseave; Butt pryvate wealthe, thatt cursed wreche, and most vyle slave, Over all he is imbraced, and ffast to hym they cleave.
"He thatt hathe this world's goode, and seeth his neyghboure lake, And off hym hathe no compassyone, nor showithe hym no love, Nor relevithe his nesessite, butt suffers hym go to wrake, God dwellithe nott in thatt mane, the Scriptures playnely prove.
"Example we have by Dyves, thatt dayntilye dide fare, In worldely wealthe and ryches therein he dide excell, Off poore Lazarous' mesery he hadde theroff no care, Therfore was sodenly taken and tormentide in Hell."
[See Note 5 for explanations.]
Ten quiet days followed. For many a month afterwards, quietness wasonly to be remembered as a lost luxury.
"Have you the news?" inquired Mr Underhill, suddenly opening Avery'sdoor, and coming in hastily.
"I have heard you put that question five-and-twenty times," responded DrThorpe.
"Well!" he answered, "you may hear it yet again so many. There is liketo be some trouble."
"Then that is good news," said the doctor, sarcastically, "for duringsome time there hath been trouble, not there hath been like to be."
"What is it, then, Ned?" inquired John.
"Why," answered he, "the Lord Cobham and Tom Wyatt be up in Kent, and myLord Warden of Dover, and many another, to resist the Queen's marriage,and to remove certain councillors from her, which (as I take it) isanother way of spelling Stephen Gardiner's name: and my Lord of Suffolk,and his two brothers [John and Thomas Grey], are fled from Shene (onpretence of going to the Court), no man knows whither: and RochesterBridge is taken of one set of rebels, and Exeter of them in Devon--"
"Alack the day!" cried Isoult, her Devon blood stirring.
"And five hundred harnessed men are called to take the field againstWyatt. We Pensioners go down to White Hall to guard the Queen."
And Mr Underhill shut the door, and they saw no more of him.
There was some trouble. On the 30th of January, the old Duke of Norfolkand others marched against Sir Thomas Wyatt, but the same night theycame back in disorder, flying over London Bridge with only a fourth partof their company. Mr Brent, the Lamb's next neighbour, who was one ofthe little army, came home with his "coat turned, and all ruinated, andnot a string to his bow." They brought news that Wyatt was coming faston Southwark.
On the 1st of February came the Queen herself to Guild Hall, her sceptrein her hand, which was a token of peace; and Bishop Gardiner attendingher, which was a token of blood. She made an oration to the people,which she had learned without book; and when it was done,--"O how happyare we," cried Bishop Gardiner, "to whom God hath given such a wise andlearned Queen!" Which outcry Dr Thorpe said was "as good as proof thatthe Bishop himself writ the oration."
Wyatt and his company entered Southwark on the eve of QuinquagesimaSunday, by four o'clock; and before five he had made a bulwark at thebridge-foot, and fortified himself; but the Queen's men still held thebridge against him. The next morning, Mr Rose, with Mrs Rose andThekla, came to the Lamb, read the service out of the Prayer Book, andpreached: but they were afraid to sing. At nine o'clock on Tuesdaymorning Wyatt drew off his men, seeing that he could not take thebridge, and turned towards Kingston.
In the evening came in Mr Underhill, in armour, with his pole-axe in hishand, which he set down in a corner, and sat down and talked for anhour.
"So Wyatt is gone?" said Dr Thorpe.
"Gone about to strengthen himself," answered Mr Underhill. "He iscoming back, take my word for it. He said unto his soldiers that hewould pay them the next time in Cheapside; and unto the men that heldthe bridge quoth he,--`Twice have I knocked, and not been suffered toenter; if I knock the third time I will come in, by God's grace!'"
"What did you at the Court?" said Dr Thorpe. "Is good watch kept?"
Mr Underhill laughed.
"Marry, I did nothing," said he, "for I was not suffered. I put on mineharness, and went up into the Queen's chamber of presence, where wereall her women weeping and wringing their hands, like foolish flutteringbirds, and crying they should all be destroyed that night. And then MrNorris, the Queen's chief usher, which was appointed to call the watch,read over the names from the book which Moore (the clerk of our check)gave him; but no sooner came he to my name than quoth he,--`What! whatdoth he here?'--`Sir,' saith the clerk, `he is here ready to serve asthe rest be.'--`Nay!' saith he, and sware a great oath, `that hereticshall not watch here! give me a pen.' And so strake my name off thebook. So Moore cometh to me, and `Mr Underhill,' saith he, `you are notto watch; you may depart to your lodging.'--`May I?' said I; `I would beglad of that,'--thinking I had been favoured because I was not recoveredof my sickness; but I did not well trust him, because he was also aPapist. `Marry, I depart indeed,' said I; `will you be mydischarge?'--`I tell you true,' said he, `Mr Norris hath stricken youout of the book, saying these words--That heretic shall not watch here:I tell you true what he said.'--`Marry, I thank him,' said I, `and youalso; you could not do me a greater pleasure.'--`Nay, burden not mewithal,' said he, `it is not my doing.' So away went I, with my men anda link. And when I come to the Court gate, I fell in with Mr ClementThrogmorton (that was come post from Coventry to the Queen with tidingsof the taking of the Duke of Suffolk) and George Ferris,--both myfriends, and good Protestants. So away went we three to Ludgate, whichwas fast locked, for it was past eleven of the clock, and the watch setwithin, but none without. And lo' you, for all our calling, anddeclaring of our names, and the like, would they not open the gate. MrThrogmorton cried to them that he would go to his lodging within, and MrFerris said he was sent with weighty affairs to my Lord Will Howardwithin: but they did nought but laugh, and at long last said they hadnot the keys. `What shall I do?' said Mr Throgmorton; `I am weary andfaint, and I wax now cold. I am not acquainted hereabout, nor no mandare open his doors in this dangerous time, nor I am not able to go backagain to the Court; I shall perish this night.'--`Well,' said I, `let usgo to Newgate; I think I shall get in there.'--`Tush!' said he, `it isbut in vain; we shall be answered there as we are here.'--`Well,' saidI, `and the worst fall, I can lodge ye in Newgate: you know whatacquaintance I have there, and the kee
per's door is without thegate.'--`That were a bad shift!' said he; `I had almost as lief die inthe streets; yet I will rather wander again to the Court.' Howbeit, Idid persuade them to try at Newgate; and there found we my friend Newmanto be constable of the watch, which saith, `Mr Underhill! what news,that you walk so late?' So he let us through the gate with a good will,and at long last we reached each man to his lodging."
At four o'clock on the morning of Ash Wednesday, London was awoke bydrums beating all through the streets of the city. John and Robin rosehastily, and went out to ascertain the cause. They came in shortly,saying that the drums beat for all soldiers to arm and repair to CharingCross, for that Wyatt was seeking to come in by Westminster, and hadreached as far as Brentford. About one or two o'clock, Wyatt came, andmarched past Charing Cross, without hindrance (except that as he passedSaint James's the Earl of Pembroke fell upon his rear), and so marchedalong the Strand, and up Fleet Street, until he came before Ludgate.There they knocked to come in, falsely saying that the Queen had grantedtheir request and pardoned them; but Lord William Howard was not to bethus deceived, as others had been on the way. His answer was a sterncry of "Avaunt, traitor! thou shalt not come in here." For a littlewhile Wyatt rested upon a seat at the Belle Sauvage gate; but at last,being weary of this pastime, he turned back on Charing Cross. When hereached Temple Bar the Queen's horsemen met him, and the battle began.When he saw the fight going against him, Wyatt yielded. And so SirMaurice Berkeley and others brought him and his chief captains to Court,and at five o'clock they were taken to the Tower by water. And as theypassed in, Sir John Bridges, the Lieutenant, ungenerously upbraided theprisoner, saying that "if it were not that the law must justly pass uponhim, he would strike him with his dagger." To whom Wyatt answered,"with a grim and grievous look"--"It were no mastery now." And so theypassed on.
Thus was Wyatt's rebellion quashed. The stars in their courses foughtagainst him.
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Note 1. In addition to his cruel persecution of the Gospellers, he hadbeen a notorious libertine.
Note 2. Cott. Ms., Appendix, twenty-eight, folio 93, 94.--MissStrickland says (Lives of the Queens, three, page 459), that this wasMary, wife of James Basset; but the Tallies Roll for 2-3 Philip et Marydistinctly names this lady as one of Queen Mary's maids of honour, inrecording the payment of her pension--"_Anna_ Basset, virginis Reginae."
Note 3. Harl. Ms. 425, folio 92, 93.
Note 4. Underhill is a Warwickshire family, but Anne Wynter, the motherof Edward Underhill, was a Worcestershire woman.
Note 5. Notes on this poem. See Harl. Ms. 424, folio 9. Plags meansplagues. "Wealthe" means "personal interest." "Wreche" means "wretch.""Lake" means "lack." "Wrake" means "wrack."