The persecution had begun in good earnest now. The imprisonment of Bishop Ridley and Mr Underhill, and the deprivation of Mr Rose, were only the beginning of sorrows. On the 16th of August, Mr John Bradford of Manchester was sent to the Tower; and Mr Prebendary Rogers confined to his own house, nor allowed to speak with any person out of it. And on Friday and Sat.u.r.day, the 18th and 19th, were condemned to death in the high court at Westminster, the great Duke of Northumberland, who so many years had been all but a king in England; and the Marquis of Northampton, and the Earl of Warwick (son of the Duke), and Sir Andrew Dudley, the Duke's brother, and Sir Thomas Palmer. The judges were the Lord Treasurer, and the old Duke of Norfolk, the last only just released from the Tower, where he had been a prisoner seven years.

"G.o.d's mill grindeth slowly, but it grindeth small." He sitteth at the disposing of the lots--there is no blind chance, for Him: and it was the Lord who had these sinners in derision, who sat above the water-floods, and stilled the raging of the people.

And if G.o.d'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 to death. On the following morning, ma.s.s was sung in the Tower; and the Duke, the Marquis of Northampton, Sir Andrew Dudley, Sir Harry Gates, and Sir Thomas Palmer, received the sacrament in one kind only. Then the Duke, turning to those present (who were many) said "he had been seduced these sixteen years by the false and erroneous doctrine of the new preachers (namely, the Gospel), but he was now a.s.sured and did believe that the Sacrament there present was our Saviour and Redeemer, Jesus Christ." Then he knelt down and asked of all men forgiveness, and said he forgave all men. The Duke of Somerset's sons were standing by (who had something to forgive that miserable sinner), and the Lady Jane saw the Duke pa.s.s by to the chapel from her window.

"Lo' you now!" said John, "this was the chosen head of the Lutheran party!"

"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 visit his friend, Mr Underhill.

"And poor Underhill," said he, "is fallen sick of a burning ague in that loathsome gaol. He doth account the cause to be the evil savours and the unquietness of the lodging; as may be also the drinking of a strong draught 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 done from one to an other; but none can he abide, having so much noise of the prisoners and naughty savours. Now his wife hath leave to come unto him for to tend him in his sickness; but he is constrained to pay eightpence every meal, and as much for her."

"And how is he treated of Alisaunder?" said John. "Not over well, I warrant you."

"Nay, there you are out," said Mr Ive; "for (as Underhill told me), the very first night that he went in, one of the prisoners took acquaintance of him, whose name was Bristo, and would have him to have a bed in his chamber. He had been with Sir Richard Cromwell in his journey to Landrecies, that Underhill also was in, and could play well on a rebeck, and was a Protestant, which yet he kept secret, or (saith he to Underhill), 'I had never found such favour as I do at the keeper's hand and his wife's; for to such as love the Gospel they be very cruel.'--'Well (saith Underhill), I have sent for my Bible, and, by G.o.d's grace, therein shall be my daily exercise. I will not hide it from 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 the nature and manner of them, for I have been here a good while. They both do love music very well; wherefore you with your lute, and I with my rebeck, will please them greatly. He loveth to be merry and to drink wine, and she also; and if you will bestow upon them every dinner and supper 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 pa.s.s."

"And where is the babe?" said Isoult, pityingly.

"My Nell hath little Guilford," answered Mr Ive, "and maketh as much ado of him, as she were his own mother. Concern you not for him; with G.o.d's blessing, the child shall fare well."

On Tower Hill, whither they had sent so many better than themselves, on the 22nd of August, Sir John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, and Sir Thomas Palmer, ended their wretched and evil lives. With them died Sir John Gates.

The Duke rehea.r.s.ed his confession, as he had made it in the chapel; avowing himself to be of the old learning, "and a Christian now, for these sixteen years I have been none." Which last was the truth. And he said, "he would every man not to be covetous, for that had been a great part of his destruction." And so he tied the handkerchief over his 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 times better that he had never been born, than to have destroyed himself and England together, and to have offended so bitterly Christ's little ones.

After him came Sir John Gates, who said little, and would have no handkerchief over his eyes; and his head fell at the third blow.

Last came Sir Thomas Palmer, "nothing in whose life became him like the leaving it." For when the people bade him good morrow, he said,--"I do not doubt but that I have a good morrow, and that I shall have a better good even." And then he went on to tell them, "that he had been lawfully condemned, and that he did therein thank G.o.d for His mercy: for that sithence his coming into the Tower, he had seen himself, how utterly and verily vile his soul was--yea, he did not think any sin to be, that he had not plunged even into the midst of it [Note 1]; I and he had moreover seen how infinite were G.o.d's mercies, and how Jesus sitteth a Redeemer at the right hand of G.o.d, by whose means His people shall live eternally. For I have learned (said he) more in one little dark corner in yonder Tower, than ever I learned by any travail in so many places as I have been." And he desired the people to pray for him, for he "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 he had said a few prayers, "and then he should have good leave." And so he knelt down, and laid his head on the block, and prayed; then lifting his head again, once more asked all present to pray for him; and so again laid down his head, which was stricken from him at one stroke.

And that night Isoult Avery wrote in her diary--"Verily, I do know that the mercies of G.o.d are infinite; and I bless Him heartily therefor. But had I been to say any that I knew which was little like to come unto them, I had named this man. G.o.d be lauded if He hath shown him what is sin, and what is Christ, in his last hours, and hath so received him up to that His infinite mercy. I marvel what sort shall be the meeting betwixt my Lord, and George Bucker, and the Duke of Somerset, and him."

At length Mr Throgmorton found his expected opportunity, and offered his pet.i.tion for Mr Underhill's release. This pet.i.tion set forth "his extreme sickness and small cause to be committed unto so loathsome a gaol," and besought that he might therefore be released, offering sureties to be forthcoming when called upon: these were to be himself and his brother-in-law John Speryn, a merchant of London, and a man "very zealous in the Lord." Poor Underhill was still very seriously ill. "I was cast," he tells us, "into an extreme burning ague, that I could take no rest; desiring to change my lodging, and so did from one to an other, but none I could abide, there was so much noise of prisoners and evil savours. The keeper and his wife offered me his own parlour, where he lay himself, which was furthest from noise, but it was near the kitchen, the savour whereof I could not abide. Then did she lodge me in a chamber wherein she said never no prisoner lay, which was her store-chamber, where she said all the plate and money lay, which was much." [Harl. Ms. 425, folio 91, a.] Mr Ive reported that Mr Underhill could be no weaker than he was, and live. His friend Dr Record had been to 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 a great devyne." Mr Rose took his deprivation very quietly. Some of his friends thought he might be all the safer for it, if the persecutors had done all they cared about doing to him. He had hired three rooms for the present in a house in Leadenhall Street. Tidings of further persecution came now daily. "Robin's orders do seem going further off than ever," lamented Isoult. For Bishops Hooper of Gloucester and Coverdale of Exeter were cited before the Council; and the Archbishop, and the Dean of Saint Paul's; and ma.s.s was now celebrated in many churches of London. A rumour went abroad of the lapsing of the Archbishop, and that he had sung ma.s.s before the Queen; but it proved false. Again the altar was set up in Saint Paul's Cathedral; and when Bishop Bonner came from the Marshalsea, great rejoicing was made. Many by the way bade him welcome home, and "as many of the women as might kissed 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 once good and bad. He was released from Newgate, but was so weak and ill that they were obliged to carry him home in a horse-litter, and the gaoler's servant bore him down the stairs to the litter in his arms like a child; and for all this, those who accompanied him (Mrs Underhill, Mr Speryn, Mr Ive, and others) were afraid lest he should not live till he came home. They were compelled to go very gently, and frequently to halt; so that two hours were required to pa.s.s through the city, from Newgate 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 the Gospellers were asked to pray for him.

To the great relief of all Protestants, the Archbishop published a letter in which he utterly denied that he had ever said or promised to say ma.s.s, to gain favour with the Queen.

"I could have told you so much," said John. "My Lord Archbishop is not the 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 that he was or had been a Lutheran; and such reminders he occasionally received from Mr John Avery.

"Have you the news?" said Mr Rose, on the evening of the 14th of September.

"Which news?" asked John. "We know all, methinks, touching my Lord Archbishop, and the Bishops of Gloucester and Exeter, and that Mr Dean is cited. What more?"

"And that Mr Latimer is had to the Tower?"

"Alack, no!" cried Isoult. "Is it a.s.suredly so?"

"I shake hands with him on his way, and saw him go in," answered Mr Rose, sorrowfully.

"With what cheer?"

"As bright and merry as ever I did see him. The warder at the gate was Will Rutter, whom he knew of old; and quoth he to him, 'What, my old friend! how do you? I am now come to be your neighbour again.' And so went in smiling, and is lodged in the garden, in Sir Thomas Palmer's lodging."

"He is a marvellous man," replied John.

"My Lord of Canterbury," pursued Mr Rose, "likewise came into the Tower yesterday. He is lodged in the gate against the Water-gate, where my Lord 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 G.o.d," said Mr Rose, solemnly; "and Him also, could they but get at Him."

Before September was over, John and Isoult rode to the Limehurst to visit Mr Underhill. They found him in very good spirits for an invalid in a very weak condition, and he said he was improving every day, and had a long tale to tell them when his strength would permit. Mrs Underhill had been compelled to present herself before the Council in order to procure his release, and had there to endure a severe scolding from Lord Winchester for the relationship in which little Guilford had been placed to Lady Jane Grey. She bore it quietly, and got for her reward a letter to the keeper of Newgate, signed by Winchester, Suss.e.x, Bedford, Rochester, and Sir Edward Waldegrave, ordering the release of Mr Underhill, who was to be bound before a magistrate, in conjunction with her brother, Mr Speryn, to appear when summoned.

The progress of the Retrogression--for such it may be fairly termed--was swifter than that of the Reformation had been. "Facilis descensus Averni,"--this is the usual course. High ma.s.s was restored in Saint Paul's Cathedral, and in very few London churches were Gospel sermons yet preached. With bitter irony, liberty was granted to Bishop Ridley-- to hear ma.s.s in the Tower Chapel. Liberty to commit idolatry was not likely to be used by Nicholas Ridley. The French Protestants were driven out, except a few named by the Amba.s.sador; Cranmer, Latimer, Hooper, Coverdale, were cited before the Council; and on the 28th of September, the Queen came to the Tower, in readiness for her coronation.

At one o'clock on the 30th, the royal procession set forth, fitly preceded by a crowd of knights, doctors, bishops, and peers. After them rode the Council; and then the new Knights of the Bath, to create whom it had been the custom, the day previous to the coronation. The seal and mace were carried next, between the Lord Chancellor (Bishop Gardiner) and the Lord Treasurer, William Paulet, Marquis of Winchester.

The old Duke of Norfolk followed, with Lord Arundel on his right, and Lord Oxford on his left, bearing the swords of state. Sir Edward Hastings, on foot, led the Queen's horse. She sat in a chariot of tissue, trapped with red velvet, and drawn by six horses. Mary was dressed in blue velvet, bordered with ermine, and on her head she carried not only a caul of tinsel set with gold and stones, but also a garland of goldsmith's work, so ma.s.sive that she was observed to "bear up her head with her hands." She was subject to violent headaches, and in all probability was suffering from one now. A canopy was borne over her chariot. In the second chariot, which was "all white, and six horses trapped with the same," sat the heiress presumptive of England, the Princess Elizabeth, "with her face forward, and the Lady Anne of Cleve, with her back forward:" both ladies were attired in crimson velvet. Then came "four ladies of estate riding upon horses"--the eccentric old d.u.c.h.ess of Norfolk; the Marchioness of Winchester; Gertrude, the long-tried Marchioness of Exeter; and Mary Countess of Arundel, niece of Lady Lisle. Both riders and horses were apparelled in crimson velvet. The third chariot, covered with cloth of gold, and the horses similarly caparisoned, while the peeresses within were clad in crimson velvet--two ladies on horseback, in crimson velvet--the fourth and fifth chariots, and more ladies on horseback, to the total number of forty-six, and all in crimson velvet--these followed one another in due course. Last came the Queen's women, riding upon horses trapped in crimson satin, and attired in the same material. Among them, the third of the eight maids of honour, looked out the sweet face of Anne Ba.s.set, gentlest of "her Highness' women." [Note 2.]

And so closed this crimson pageant, meet inauguration of England's bloodiest reign. Of other pageants there was no lack; but I pa.s.s them by, as also the airy gyrations of Peter the Dutchman on the weatherc.o.c.k of Saint Paul's.

On the west side of the Cathedral was a sight which more amazed the party of sight-seers from the Lamb than any other with which they had met that day. This was the Hot Gospeller, who had literally risen from his bed to see the pageant. Mr Edward Underhill sat upon a horse--but he shall describe his own appearance, for it must have been remarkable.

"Scant able to sit, girded in a long night-gown, with double kerchiefs about my head, a great hat upon them, my beard dubed hard too, my face so leane and pale that I was the very image of death, wondered at of all that 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 either side of me a man to stay me... When the Queen pa.s.sed by, ... many of my fellows the Pensioners and divers of the Council beheld me, and none of them all knew me." [Note 3.]

"Why, Ned!" cried John, "are you able to sit thus on an horse and mix in crowds?"

"No," said he.

"Then," he answered, "what brought you hither?"

"Marry, mine own obstinate resolvedness," said Mr Underhill, laughing feebly, "that neither my Jane, nor Jack Speryn, nor Ive, could combat."