Robin Tremayne Page 6

  CHAPTER SIX.

  A CRIME WHICH WAS A BLUNDER.

  "We pass: the path that each man trod Is dim, or shall be dim, with weeds. What fame is left for human deeds In endless age? It rests with God."

  Tennyson.

  No ill befel Lord Grey de Wilton. There was but little laid to hischarge,--only a journey to the North, preceding the Duke of Somerset, todiscover who were his friends. Perhaps the Council was ashamed to shedthe blood of the man who had but lately put down the rising in Cornwall,and joined in raising the siege of Exeter. Whatever the cause were, hewas quietly acquitted on the 19th of December, and suffered to go home.

  In came Dr Thorpe, shortly before Christmas, carrying in his hand a newshilling.

  "See thee!" said he, "Isoult, look well hereon. Seest it?"

  "Well, what of it, Doctor?" said she. "I have seen many afore."

  "Dost mark it?" inquired he.

  "Ay," she answered, marvelling what he meant.

  "Well," pursued he, "thou art not to speak evil of it."

  "I am not like," said she, innocently, "for these new shillings belesser and neater than the broad shilling, and they like me the rather."

  "Well," responded he, "take thou heed. `Forewarned is forearmed.'"

  "But what mean you. Dr Thorpe?" asked the puzzled Isoult.

  "Nay, nay, now!" answered the old man. "This dolt, my Lord ofNorthumberland--they must have missed rocking of him in his cradle!--this patch, look thou, hath taken offence at the canting name men havegiven to these new shillings."

  "Why," said she, "what name gave they them?"

  "Forsooth," replied he, "`ragged staffs;' and thou wist what thatmeaneth."

  "What, a quip on my Lord of Northumberland's arms?" answered Isoult.

  "Yea, justly," said he; "and this sweet companion loveth not to have hisarms spoke about. So here is a proclamation--come out of the Court ofFools, as I live!--that no man henceforward shall speak evil of the newcoin upon penalty. Didst ever hear such a piece of folly?"

  "Ay," interposed John, who sat reading in the chimney-corner, "and heardyou how Master Latimer hath offended? Some time agone, preaching beforethe King, he chanced to repeat the device of the new shilling (thatcoming pat, I take it, to his matter) to wit, `_Timor Domini fonsvitae_.' And here quoth he, `We have now a pretty little shilling, indeed a very pretty one. I have but one, I think, in my purse; and thelast day I had put it away almost for an old groat.' And so plucked itout of his purse, and read the device to the people, with thesignification thereof. Now (would you crede it?) there was murmuringagainst Mr Latimer of my Lord of Northumberland's following, that he hadreviled the new shilling, and contemned it for no better than an oldgroat."

  "I do protest!" cried Dr Thorpe, "the world is gone mad!"

  "Saving you and me," said John, gravely.

  "I scantly know, Jack," answered he, shaking his white head. "MethinksI shall not save you nor me long."

  One of the strangest things in this strange world is the contrastsperpetually to be found in it. While Somerset lay thus under sentenceof death, the Lord of Misrule passed through London. He was GeorgeFerris, an old friend of the Hot Gospeller, and a warm Protestanthimself; yet it would be a tolerably safe guess to assert that Ferriswas a Lutheran. Scarcely would a Gospeller have filled that position onthat day.

  Perhaps the relics of Dr Thorpe's Lutheranism were to blame for hispersistent determination to have Twelfth Day kept with all the honours.He insisted on cake and snap-dragon, and was rewarded for his urgency bydrawing the king, while Kate was found to be his queen. Their mimicmajesties were seated in two large chairs at one end of the parlour, thewhite-haired king laughing like a child, while the little queen was asgrave as a judge. The snap-dragon followed, for which a summaryabdication took place; and greatly amused was the old man to find Walterin abject fear of burning his fingers, while Kate plunged her hand intothe blue flaming dish with sufficient courage for any knight inChristendom. The evening closed with hot cockles, after which Esthertook possession of the children, declaring, with more earnestness thanwas her wont, that they must and should not stay up another minute.

  "Verily," said the old Doctor, when they were gone, "if the childre mustbe had away, then should I follow; for I do feel in myself as though Iwere a little child to-night."

  "So you have been, methinks," responded Isoult, smiling on him, "forassuredly they had enjoyed far less mirth without you."

  And now the dark cloud closed over England, which was to be the one bloton the reign of our Josiah. Poor young King! he was but fourteen; howcould he tell the depth of iniquity that was hidden in those cold blueeyes of the man who was hunting the hapless Duke of Somerset to death?Probably there was only one man who fully fathomed it, and that was thevictim himself. And his voice was sterling in England no more.

  Words fail in the attempt to describe what the Duke's execution was tothe Gospellers. There was not one of them, from the Tyne to the Land'sEnd, who for the country's sake would not joyfully have given his lifefor the life of Somerset. He was only a man, and a sinful man too; yetsuch as he was, speaking after the manner of men, he was the hope of theGospel cause. To every Gospeller it was as the last plague of Egypt;and to judge by the lamentations to be heard in all their houses, itmight have been supposed that "there was not an house where there wasnot one dead." It is not often that a whole land mourns like this.Among her sons England has not many darlings, but those that she has,she holds very dear.

  The morning of the 22nd of January came.

  "Know you, Mrs Avery," asked Esther, "if the Duke of Somerset is like tobe had afore the Council again, and when it shall be? I would like muchto see that noble gentleman, if I might get a glimpse of him."

  Isoult referred the question to John, but he said he had heard nothing;he was going to Fleet Street, and would see if he could find out. Butbefore he set out there came a rapping on the door, and when Ursulaopened it, there stood Mr Rose.

  "Welcome!" said John to him. "Come in and give us your news."

  "There shall be better welcome for me than them," he said, in his sadgrave manner. "Know you that even this day doth my Lord of Somersetsuffer?"

  "Is there no help for it?" said Dr Thorpe, sternly.

  Mr Rose answered sadly,--"There is alway help from God; but His help isnot alway to be seen of men. From men, in this matter, there is nonehelp whatever, remembering that he who should give it is my Lord ofNorthumberland. You may ask the lion to have mercy on his new-caughtprey, but not John Dudley upon Edward Seymour. There is but this onebarrier betwixt him and--"

  Mr Rose did not finish in words, but a slight motion of his hands overhis head [Note 1] showed well enough what he meant.

  "But you count not that he would aim--" began Dr Thorpe.

  Another motion of Mr Rose checked his further utterance.

  "He that hath the thing in deed, doth sometimes all the better withoutthe name thereof," he said quietly.

  "Where dieth he?" saith John, in a low voice.

  "Upon Tower Hill," Mr Rose replied.

  "I would like," he answered, "to see him once more, and hear what hewill say."

  "You cannot," said Mr Rose. "There hath been commandment issued thatall householders (except specially summoned) shall keep their houses,upon sore pain, betwixt six and eight of the clock this morrow, untilall be over. List! there goeth six of the clock now. I thought to havegone somewhat further on my way, but now I must needs abide with youthese two hours."

  So they sat down and talked, mournfully enough, until the clock struckseven; and then Mr Rose, rising from his chair, said, "Brethren, let uspray." John drew the bolts, and the curtains over the windows, and allknelt down.

  This morning England's heart was throbbing with pain; to-morrow shewould be mourning for her dead son. The only man whom England trustedwas dying on Tower Hill! And this group--atoms of England, and parts ofEngland's heart--without such guards as these, they dared n
ot pray forhim.

  Thus Mr Rose prayed:--

  "O Lord, glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders! whoseway is in the sea, and whose path in the great waters, and whosefootsteps are not known! We kneel before Thee this dread morrow, tobeseech Thee on behalf of Edward Seymour, by Thy grace and providenceDuke of Somerset. For causes unknown to us, but known to Thineunfathomable wisdom, Thou hast given leave to his enemies to triumphover him; and in Thy wise, and good, and just allowing and ordering ofmen's ways, he is as this day cast for death. We know, O Lord, that Thyjudgments are right, and that Thou in faithfulness dost afflict andchasten man, whether for sin, or for correction and instruction inrighteousness. Therefore we would not beseech Thee to remove Thine handfrom him--as, even at the last moment, Thou wert able to do--but ratherso to order this Thy very awful providence, that he may be strengthenedfor death, and enabled to put his whole trust in Thy mercy, and in thealone merits of the bitter cross and passion of Thy Son our Lord.Suffer him not to depart from Thy fear, nor to lose his full and entireconfidence in Thy mercy. Let not the malice of the Devil, neither thetraitorousness and perfidiousness of his own evil heart, cause him tofall short of Thy heavenly calling. O Lord God most holy, O Lord Godmost mighty, O holy and merciful Saviour, suffer him not, in his lasthour, for any pains of death, to fall from Thee!"

  He paused a moment, and all responded--"Amen." Yet he rose not. Butwhile they knelt, from within the wall of the Tower enclosure came asudden tumult, rushings to and fro, and shouts and cries of "Jesu, saveus!" After a few minutes all was quiet.

  And when all was quiet, Mr Rose went on.

  "Lord, bow down Thine ear, and hear! Open, Lord, Thine eyes, and see!Reveal unto this dying man the glory of Thy kingdom, the beauty ofThyself, that so he may count all things but loss that he may winChrist. Open unto him the gates of pearl, which the righteous shallenter into--make him to shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of Thee, OFather. Grant him to endure this his cross for Thy love, and in Thystrength, and after to reign with Thee in glory evermore."

  He made another pause--a longer one; and again all responded, "Amen."During his silence came another roar from Tower Hill; but all was againsilent [Note 2]. The minutes passed slowly to the kneeling group. Itseemed a long time ere he spoke again.

  "O Lord, shed Thy peace over the last moments of this our brother in theGospel of Christ--in Thy kingdom and patience. Let Thy servant departin peace. Suffer not Satan to harass and annoy him, nor the thought ofhis own sins to grieve and shake him. Fix his mind firmly upon Thee andon Thy Christ. O holy and merciful Saviour, suffer him not, at his lasthour, for any pains of death, to fall from Thee!"

  As Mr Rose uttered the last word, the Tower guns rang out, clear andsharp, on the frosty morning air. Few sounds ever thrilled so straightto the Gospellers' hearts as that. None uttered another word while theyknelt. Even the Amen was silent now. They might pray no more forEdward Duke of Somerset.

  Slowly, one after another, all rose. All still, in silent mourning,they waited till the great clock of Saint Botolph's rang out eighttimes. The next minute every door in the street was opened, and menwere pouring out in a mass toward Aldgate. Then Mr Rose, with a heavysigh, rose and held out his hand. That action unloosed the tongues ofthe party.

  "Ah! God be his rest!" said Dr Thorpe, meditatively. "He did not alwaythe right, but--"

  "Do you?" answered Mr Rose, pointedly enough, with a quick flash in hiseyes.

  "As said poor King Harry, `Kingdoms are but cares,'" said John [Note 3]."He hath found a better now."

  "He hath found a better, I am assured," answered Mr Rose, "and is nowsinging the new song before the Throne. Methinks he doth not wishhimself back now."

  "I marvel," suggested Dr Thorpe, half sorrowfully, yet a littlescornfully, "how he and the Queen Katherine shall get along the one withthe other in Heaven?"

  "I count, old friend," answered John, "that the Lutheran Queen and theGospelling Duke will each be taken up too much with the mercy that hathforgiven his sins, to have any leisure for counting up those of theother."

  "Well, they will lack something of the sort," replied the old man.

  "How can there be disagreement where each seeth clear?" said Mr Rose,"or how any disliking in the presence of the Mediator?"

  Dr Thorpe made no answer, but he shook Mr Rose's offered hand warmly;and when he was gone, he said, "That is a good man. I would I were abetter."

  "Amen!" responded Avery, "for us all."

  About the middle of March came Annis Holland to pay her farewell visitto Isoult. She was a quiet, gentle-looking woman, rather short, andinclining to embonpoint, her hair black, and her eyes dark grey. Shewas to start for Spain on the 22nd of the same month, under the escortof Don Jeronymo, a Spanish gentleman in the household of the Duchess ofSuffolk. The city to which she was bound was Tordesillas, and there(where the Queen resided) she was to await the orders of the Marquis ofDenia, who was her Majesty's Comptroller. Annis promised to write toher friend twice every year, while she remained abroad.

  A few days after Annis's departure, there was a dinner-party at theLamb. The guests were Mr and Mrs Underhill, Mr and Mrs Rose, Thekla,and Mr Holland.

  Mr Underhill brought bad news. The King had fallen ill of small-pox,and Parliament was likely to be prorogued, since he could no longer bepresent at the debates. The idea that the royal presence might overawethe members, and the consequent absence of the Sovereign from the Houseexcepting for state ceremonies, are no older than the Restoration. ThePlantagenet and Tudor Kings sat in their Parliaments as a matter ofcourse.

  After dinner, Mr Holland, who was fond of children, set Kate on hisknee, and won her heart by permitting her to chatter as freely as shepleased. Robin and Thekla crept into a quiet corner by themselves; MrsUnderhill made Esther her especial companion; and the rest sat round thefire.

  "What think you," said Dr Thorpe to Mr Underhill, "should now hap, if(which God of His mercy defend!) this sickness of the King were to provemortal?"

  "How mean you?" Mr Underhill answered, "that the King should or shouldnot provide his successor?"

  "Why," replied Dr Thorpe, "will he shut out his sisters?"

  "There are that would right gladly have him to do so."

  "Whom aim you at there?"

  "My Lord of Northumberland and other," said he.

  Dr Thorpe exploded, as was usual with him, at Northumberland's name.

  "What, the Duke of Blunderhead?" cried he. "Ay, I reckon he would likewell to be John the Second. Metrusteth the day that setteth the faircrown of England on that worthless head of his, shall see me safe inHeaven, or it should go hard with me but I would pluck it thence!"

  "I never can make out," answered Mr Underhill, laughing, "how you can bea Lutheran, and yet such an enemy to my Lord of Northumberland, that iscommonly counted head of the Lutheran party, at the least in the senseof public matters."

  "Nay, my word on't!" exclaimed he, "but if I thought the Devil, by thathis proxy, to be head of the Lutheran party, in any sense orsignification whatsoever, I would turn Gospeller to-morrow!"

  Mr Underhill roared with laughter. John said, aside to Mr Rose,--"He isnot far from it now."

  "Come, you are over hard on Jack Dudley," said Mr Underhill. "He is anold friend of mine."

  "Then I wish you joy of your friends," replied Dr Thorpe, in a disgustedtone: adding after a minute, "I yet look for your answer to myquestion."

  "I am no prophet," answered he, "neither a prophet's son; but it needethnot much power of prophecy to see that a civil war, or something verylike it, should follow."

  "In either case?" suggested Avery.

  "In the case of the King making no appointment," he said, "very likely:in the case of his so doing, almost certain."

  "Eh, my masters!" continued Dr Thorpe very sadly, "when I was born,seventy-one years gone, the Wars of the Roses were scantly over. I haveheard my father tell what they were. Trust me, rather than go th
roughsuch a time again, I would be on my knees to God to spare it unto us,--ay, night and day."

  "But in case no devise of the succession were made," said John, "theLady Mary's Grace should follow without gainsaying, I take it."

  "Not without gainsaying," answered Mr Rose. "My Lord of Northumberlandknoweth full well that he could not reign under her as he hath doneunder King Edward. Remember, she is no child, but a woman; ay, and awoman taught by suffering also."

  "And every Lutheran in the kingdom would gather round him," added MrUnderhill.

  "Round John Dudley?" cried Dr Thorpe. "Hang me if I would!"

  "Saving your mastership," said Mr Underhill, laughing, and making him alow bow.

  "And every Papist would go with the Lady Mary," said John. "It were anhard choice for us. How think you? Which way should the Gospellersgo?"

  "Which way?" cried Mr Underhill, flaring up. "Why, the right way! Withthe right heir of England, and none other!"

  "I asked not you, Ned Underhill," answered John, smiling. "I know yourhorse, and how hard you ride him. I wished to question Rose andHolland."

  Mr Rose did not answer immediately. Mr Holland said, "It were an hardcase; yet methinks Mr Underhill hath the right. Nothing can make rightwrong, I take it, neither wrong to be right."

  "Truth: yet that is scarce the question," responded Avery. "Rather isit, if the King made another devise of the crown, who should then be theright heir?"

  "Ah! now you are out of my depth," answered Mr Holland. "This littlemaid and I understand each other better. Do we not so, Kate?"

  "Well, Rose?" inquired John.

  "Prithee, get Mr Underhill out of the house first," interposed DrThorpe, laughing.

  "Or we shall have a pitched battle. I would like nothing better!" saidMr Underhill, rubbing his hands, and laughing in his turn.

  "Brother," said Mr Rose, turning to him, "the wisdom that cometh fromabove is peaceable."

  "But first, pure!" answered Mr Underhill, quickly.

  "There were little of the one, if it should lack the other," respondedhe.

  "Come, give us your thought!" cried Mr Underhill. "I will endeavourmyself to keep mine hands off you, and allgates, if I grow very warlike,Avery and Holland can let me from blood-shedding."

  "When I find myself in the difficulty, I will," replied Mr Rose, withhis quiet smile.

  And no more could Mr Underhill obtain from him: but he said that hewould demand an answer if the occasion arose.

  The King had no sooner recovered from the small-pox than he took themeasles; and the Parliament, seeing no hope of his speedy amendment,broke up on the 15th of April.

  Mr Rose stepped into the Lamb that evening.

  "There is a point of our last week's matter, that I would like yourthought upon," said Avery to him. "Granted that the Gospellers shouldmake a self party, and not join them with Lutherans ne with Papists,touching public matters, where, think you, look we for a leader?"

  Mr Rose shook his head. "We have none," said he.

  "Not my Lord Archbishop?"

  "Assuredly not; he is by far too gentle and timid. We lack a man thatcould stand firm,--not that should give up all short of God's Throne forthe sake of peace."

  "Nor my Lord of London?"

  "Dr Ridley is a bolder man than his superior; a fine, brave follow inevery way: yet methinks he hath in him scantly all the gear we lack; andhad we a command for him, I misdoubt greatly if he should take it. Heis a man of most keen feeling and delicate judgment."

  "My Lord of Sussex?"

  "Gramercy, no! Nature never cut _him_ out for a general."

  "Mr Latimer, _quondam_ of Worcester?"

  "As fiery as Ned Underhill," answered Mr Rose, smiling; "indeed,somewhat too lacking in caution; but an old man, with too littlestrength or endurance of body--enough of soul."

  "Nay, then, I see but one more," continued Avery, "and if you say nay tohim also, I have done. What think you of my Lord's Grace of Suffolk?"

  "`Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel,'" he answered. "A man weakas any child, and as easily led astray. If he be your head, Avery, Iwould say it were scarce worth to turn out for the cause. You wouldhave an halter round your neck in a week."

  "Well," responded John, "I cannot see any other."

  "I cannot see _any_," was Mr Rose's answer.

  "Then we have no leader!" said Dr Thorpe, despondently.

  Dr Thorpe was beginning to say "we" when he meant the Gospellers.

  "We have no leader," said Mr Rose. "We had one--an Heaven-born one--theonly man to whose standard (saving a faction) all England should havemustered, the only man whose trumpet should have reached every heart.And but three months gone, his blood reddened the surfeited earth uponTower Hill. Friends, men may come to look upon that loss as upon a lossnever to be amended. Trust me, we have not seen the worst yet. If itshould be as you guess--and that may well be--there shall yet be abitterer wail of mourning, yet a cry of agony ringing to the Heaven, forthe lack of Edward Seymour."

  "Ay, I am afeard the black clouds be not done opening themselves yet,"sadly replied John.

  "I think they have scantly done gathering," answered he. "The breaking,the tempest, cometh on apace. But it is not yet come."

  "When shall it come, think you?" said Dr Thorpe.

  "Shortly," he answered. "A word in your ear: the King is more grievoussick than men wot of. He may tide over this his malady; very like hewill. But he hath no power within him to do battle with such disorders.His strength is worn out. He is scarce like to outlive an other."

  "Nay, my master! Worn out at fourteen!" cried Dr Thorpe.

  "Men reckon time by days; God by endurance," said Mr Rose, mournfully."And this boy hath borne, these three years, more than you or I wot of.The sword is too sharp for the scabbard. It may be we have hardly knownhow to rate his true worth; or it may be that his work is over. Eitherway, it shall not be long now ere he enter into God's rest and his. Ay,I know it is a woeful saying, yet again I say it: King Edward is wornout at fourteen. We may not seek to keep him; but this I am assured--the angel's call to him shall be the signal for a fearful contest in therealm he leaveth. God defend the right! and God strengthen and comfortus, for I warn you we shall need it."

  "Alack! when shall all this end?" sighed Isoult.

  "When Christ cometh again," answered Mr Rose.

  "No sooner?" she cried.

  "No sooner," said he. "There may be gleams of light before then; butthere can be no full day ere the Sun arise. There may be long times ofease and exemption from persecution; but there can be no stablesettlement, no lasting peace, till He appear who is our peace. He thatis born after the flesh must persecute him that is born after theSpirit. `If ye were of the world, the world would love his own.' It isbecause we are not of the world that the world hateth us. Sister, letus comfort ourselves and one another with these words. Christ will notfail us; see we that we fail not Him. We may yet be called to go withHim, both into prison and to death. It may be that `the Lord hath needof us' after this manner. If it be so, let us march bravely in Hismartyr train. We must never allow His banner to fall unto the dust, nortremble to give our worthless lives for Him that bought us with His own.If we can keep our eyes steady on the glory that shall follow, theblack river will be easier to cross, the chariot of fire less hard tomount. And remember, He can carry us over in His arms, that the coldwaters touch not so much as our feet."

  When Mr Rose was gone, John said, his voice a little broken,--"Will _he_be a martyr?"

  "God avert it!" cried Isoult.

  "Child!" said Dr Thorpe, solemnly, "'tis of such stuff as his thatmartyrs be made."

  But the King's work was not yet quite finished. He recovered from hisdouble illness.

  The Londoners were terrified in the beginning of June by what theyregarded as a fearful sign from Heaven--a shower of what is commonlyknown as "red rain." In their eyes it was blood, and a presage ofdreadful slaughter. The s
laughter followed, whatever the shower mightmean. The last year of rest was at hand.

  "What say you to my Lord of Northampton?" suddenly inquired John Averyof Mr Rose, one morning when they met in the Strand.

  It was an odd and abrupt beginning of conversation: but Mr Roseunderstood its meaning only too well. The thoughts of the Gospellerswere running chiefly now on the dark future, and their own disorganisedcondition.

  "What had Nehemiah said in the like accident to Sanballat?" was hissuggestive answer.

  The Papists, who were not disorganised, and had no reason to fear thefuture, were busy catching dolphins,--another portent--which made theirappearance at London Bridge in August.

  The new service-book, as its contemporaries called it--the second PrayerBook of Edward the Sixth, as we call it--was used for the first time inSaint Paul's Cathedral, on All Saints' Day, November 1, 1552. BishopRidley's voice was the first that read it, and he took the whole dutyhimself; and preached in the choir, habited only in his rochet. In theafternoon he preached at the Cross,--what was _then_ called a longsermon--about three hours. My Lord Mayor, who ought to have beenpresent, was conspicuous by his absence. When remonstrated with, thatdignitary observed that "Bishop Ridley's sermons were alway so long,that he would be at no more, for he was aweary of so long standing."Wherein my Lord Mayor anticipated the nineteenth century, though it sitsout the sermon on cushions, and rarely is called upon to lend its earsfor one-third of the time which he was expected to do. Dr Thorpe wasnot far wrong in the conclusion at which he arrived:--that "my LordMayor's heart passed his legs for stiffness."

  The early winter of 1552 brought the first letter from Annis Holland.

  "To the hands of my right worthy Mistress and most singular dear friend,Mistress Avery, dwelling at the sign of the Lamb in the Minories,without Aldgate, by London, give these.

  "My right dearly beloved Isoult,--After my most loving commendationsremembered, this shall be to advertise thee of my safe landing in thecity of Santander, in Spain, and my coming unto the Queen's Highness'Court at Tordesillas. So much as to set down the names of all the townsI have passed, betwixt the two, will I not essay. It hath been awearyful journey and a long, yet should have been a pleasant one, butfor the lack of victual. The strangest land ever I did see, or think tosee, is this. The poor men hereaway dwell in good houses, and lackmeat: the rich dwell in yet fairer, and eat very trumpery. I saw not inall my life in England so much olive oil as in one week sithence I cameinto Spain. What I am for to live upon here I do marvel. Cheese theyhave, and onions by the cartload; but they eat not but little meat, andthat all strings (a tender piece thereof have I not yet seen); and forale they drink red wine. Such messes as they do make in their cookinglike me very ill, but I trow I shall be seasoned thereto in due time.

  "The first night we came to this city, which is sixteen days gone.Master Jeronymo (that hath showed me much courtesy, and had a very greatcare of me) brought me into the house of a gentleman his kinsman, whosename is Don Diego de Mendoza [fictitious person], (which is to say,Master James Mendoza). This Don Diego is a rare courtier, all bows,smiles, and courtesies; and Madam Isabel his wife [fictitious person]cometh not far behind. And (which I cannot away with), she is notcalled Dona Isabel de Mendoza, after the name of her husband butcleaveth to her own, as though she were yet a maid, and is called of allmen Dona Isabel de Alameda. Methought this marvellous strange; but this(Master Jeronymo telleth me) is the custom of his country, and ourfashion of names is to the full as strange to them. So when we cameinto the house (which is builded with pillars around the court, and afountain in the midst, right fair to see) Master Jeronymo leadeth meforward, and courtesieth well-nigh down to the ground. Quoth he to DonDiego,--`Senor and my cousin, I beseech the high favour of kissing yourhand.' And to Dona Isabel,--`Senora and my cousin, I entreat you tobestow upon me the soles of your feet.' [Note 5.] Verily, I marvelledat such words; but Dona Isabel in return louteth down to the earth,with--`Senor, I am your entirely undeserving scullion. I beg of you theunspeakable honour to present me to the serenity of the most highly-bornlady beside you.' Marry (thought I) how shall I ever dwell in a landwhere they talk thus! But I was not yet at the end of mine amaze.Master Jeronymo answers,--`Senora, this English damsel, which hath thegreat happiness to kiss your feet, is the most excellent Senora DonaInes [Note 6] de Olanda (marry, I never thought to see my name cut upafter such a fashion!) that shall have the weight of honour to be writerof the English tongue unto our most serene Lady the Queen Dona Juana.'Then Madam Isabel louteth down again to the floor, saying,--`Senora, Ihave the delightsomeness to be your most humble and lowly serving-maid.This your house is wholly at your disposal'--`Master Jeronymo (quoth Iin English), I pray you tell me what I must say?'--`Say (answereth he)that you are the Senora's highly favoured slave, and are not worthy tostand at the threshold of her door.'

  "Eh, Isoult, dear heart, what a land is this!

  "Master Jeronymo said unto me afterward that this his cousin would bevery good unto me in her meaning; for the Spaniards say not that oftheir house being yours, without they mean much grace and kindness untoyou.

  "Well, after this, Madam Isabel took me away with her into an otherchamber, where she gave me a cup of red wine and some cakes, that werenot ill to take. And in this chamber were great cushions spread allabout the floor, like unto the mattress of a bed; the cushions of velvetand verder [a species of tapestry], and the floor of marble. Upon theseshe desired me to repose me for a season; and (saith she) `At seven ofthe clock, mine excellent cousin Don Jeronymo and my lord Don Diego, andI your servant, shall take you up to the Castle, into the most ineffablepresence of the most glorious Lord Marquis of Denia.' O rare! (thoughtI.) If the Queen's Comptroller be so glorious and of so ineffable apresence, what shall his mistress be? So when even came (my SenoraMadam Isabel having meantime reposed and slumbered on the cushions), Ishifted me into my best and richest apparel for to enter this ineffablepresence, and went up unto the Castle, Don Diego leading me by the hand,and Madam Isabel coming after with Master Jeronymo. This was but acrossthe court; for no sooner had I reached the door, than what should I seebut two mules, richly-caparisoned, there standing. I was somewhatsurprised, for the Castle is but a stone's throw from the house; butMaster Jeronymo, seeing my look, whispereth unto me that in Spain,ladies of any sort [ladies of rank] do ride when they go of a journey,be it but ten yards. Methought it scarce worth the trouble to mount themule for to 'light off him again so soon: howbeit, I did as I was bid.Madam Isabel suffered her lord to lift her upon the other; and away hiedwe for the Castle, our cavaliers a-walking behind. When we 'light, andthe portcullis was drawn up, Master Jeronymo prayeth the porter to sendword unto the ineffable Lord Comptroller that the English damsel senthither by the most noble Lady, Dona Catalina (so they call my Lady ofSuffolk's Grace) doth entreat for leave to kiss the dust under his feet.This is their country mode; but I do ensure thee I had been littlegladded for leave to kiss the dust; and it doth yet tickle mine earswhensoever I hear it. So up the stairs went we, through a fair courtbordered with orange-trees, into a brave chamber hung about with silk,and all over the floor a carpet of verder spread. Here we awaited aseason; at the end whereof come in three or four gentlemen in bravearray, before the foremost whereof all we bowed down to the ground.This was mine ineffable Lord Marquis. A tall, personable gentleman heis, something stiff and stately.

  "`Senora,' saith he, inclining him unto us, `you are welcome as thelight!'

  "And raising him up, he called in a loud voice for the Senora Gomez.Come forth from the chamber beyond, a middle-aged dame, apparelled inblack.

  "`Take this lady to her chamber,' saith he. `Dona Ines is her name.And remember what I told you!'

  "So I took my leave of Master Jeronymo, and of Don Diego and DonaIsabel, with many protestations and loutings; and again making lowreverence unto my Lord Marquis, away hied I with Madam Gomez. She ledme on by so many lobbies, one after the other, that methought we
shouldnever make an end and come to a chamber; but once, when I would havespoken, she checked me with a finger on the lip. At last she turnedinto a fair large chamber, well hung and garnished. She shut to thedoor, and then her lips unclosed.

  "`Here, Senora, is your chamber,' saith she. `Two small alcoves forsleeping be on the right, for yourself and your bower-woman; you havebeen looked for of long time, and she awaiteth you. I will send her toyou when I depart.'

  "`I thank you,' quoth I. `May I pray you of her name?'

  "`Her name,' she answered, `is Maria Porcina' (the which should inEnglish be Mary Little-pig. Methought it an unfair name). `It willplease you,' she went on, `to speak but lowly, seeing your chamber isnigh unto those of our Lady.'

  "I thought that should please me but little. `Senora,' quoth I, `shallI have the honour to see the Queen's Grace at supper, think you?'

  "The Senora Gomez looked at me; then she went to the door and drew thebolt, and let back the curtain that was over the door. This done, shecame back and sat in the window.

  "`Senora,' she saith, in a voice little above a whisper, `to the worldoutside we do not tell secrets. But unto a damsel so wise and discreetas your serenity, I will not fear to speak freely.' (Much, methought,she knew of my discretion!) `You desire to know if you shall see ourLady this even. No; you will never see her.'

  "`But,' said I, `I am come hither to read and write English for herHighness.'

  "`You are come to read and write for the Lord Marquis,' she answered;`not for her.'

  "`Certes,' said I, `that was not told me.'

  "`It is never told to any,' she replied.

  "`But what is the secret, I pray your excellency?' I asked. `Is theQueen's Highness sick, that she is never seen?'

  "`She is mad,' answered she.

  "`God have mercy on her!' cried I.

  "`_Y la Santisima_!' (And the most holy Virgin!) saith she. `That iswhat is said to the world. Be you ware, Dona Ines, that you gainsay itnot.'

  "`Mean you that it is not true?' cried I.

  "`I mean,' quoth she, `that my Lord Marquis of Denia is master here, andis an ill one to offend. Say as he saith--that is our rule.'

  "`Then,' said I, `there is somewhat behind, which men may not know.'

  "`Behind!' she saith, with a low crafty laugh that it liked me not tohear. `Ay, there is Don Carlos the Emperor, son of our Lady, behind theLord Marquis. Have a care what you do and say. _Con el Rey y laInquisicion, chiton_! (which is a Spanish saw [proverb], meaning, Besilent touching the King and the Inquisition.) And if you speakunadvisedly of the one, you may find you within the walls of the other.I speak in kindness, Senora, and of what I know. This palace is not allbowers and gardens. There be dungeons beneath those bowers, deep anddark. Santa Maria defend us! You tread on mines--hold your peace!'

  "`I thank you, Senora, for your warning,' answered I. `Go with God!'

  "`And rest with Him!' she answered. [`Vaya (_or_ quede) usted conDios.'] (In this fashion do the Spaniards take their leave.) Then sheleft me.

  "Isoult, dear heart, I am well assured herefrom that this is an evilplace, and my Lord of Denia an ill man. But there is yet more to tellthee.

  "When I went down to supper, I there found my Lord and Lady of Denia;Fray Juan de Avila, confessor to her Highness; and her Grace'sbower-women, whose names be Dona Ximena de Lara [fictitious], a youngdamsel (I hear), of very high degree, that is stately and silent; DonaCatalina de la Moraleja [fictitious], a middle-aged dame, grave andsedate; Dona Leonor Gomez, of whom I have spoken; and Dona Rosada de LasPenas [fictitious], a young maid of gentle and kindly look. And if thouwouldst have their names in English--Ximena, I cannot interpret therein,for it is a name particular unto these parts; but the others should beKatherine [Note 7] and Eleanor, and Rose. Dona Leonor Gomez, I do find,will be saddest of any when my Lord's or the confessor's eyes be uponher, but will talk away like very water let out when she hath one alone.

  "It was some days ere I was called to any work. The Tuesday thereafter,my Lord Marquis sent for me, to read a letter come to him from England.'Twas but filled with compliments and fair words--scarce worth thesending, methought. Very grave is this Lord Marquis, yet extremecourteous withal. As I stood a-reading come in Fray Juan.

  "`How fareth her Highness?' asks my Lord.

  "`She requires you,' answered the Friar.

  "`I go,' his Lordship made answer. `Is it the _premia_?'

  "The Friar shrugged up his shoulders, but said nought; and my Lord, sosoon as I had made an end of reading, sent me away quickly [Note 8].Now I marvelled much what they meant, seeing that _premia_ signifieth areward or kindness done unto one; and wherefore that should be I knewnot. When I was in my chamber, I asked Maria what _premia_ meant.(This is a good, kindly, simple lass I have.) `Senora,' said she, `itsignifieth a reward.' And she plainly knew of no other signification.

  "But in the night, I was waked from my sleep by the dreadfullest soundever I heard. Surely I was deceived, but it did seem to me like shrieksof some poor wretch in mortal pain. Maria awaked also, and sitting upin her bed, she cries under her breath, `All the saints preserve us!'

  "`What can it be?' said I.

  "`Senora,' quoth she, `may it please your serenity, I know not. I haveheard it once afore, some time gone, but none would tell me the causethereof. Methinks the Castle is haunted by goblins.'

  "And she fell to crossing her and saying Ave Marys by the score.

  "The screaming ceased not for some time, and then by degrees; but Islept not again.

  "The morrow after came Dona Leonor into my chamber; and after some talkon things indifferent, she saith, `Did aught disturb you this night?'

  "`Dona Leonor, what was it?' said I.

  "`What heard you, Dona Ines?' quoth she.

  "`Why,' said I, `horrible screaming, like unto the shrieks of a soul inPurgatory.'

  "`We hear them sometimes,' she answered.

  "`But what is it?' I repeated.

  "`Dona Ines,' said she, `there are things not to be spoken about. Butdo not you fancy that the Castle is haunted by goblins.'

  "And not an other word might I have from her. But I am assured there issome terrible matter afoot in this Palace; and I would I were safethereout.

  "I must close my letter somewhat shortly, for Dona Isabel de Alameda,that promised me to send it with one of hers that goeth to Cales[Cadiz], hath sent her brother's son, Don Juan de Alameda [fictitious],to request the same, and I must not keep him awaiting. Be not thoudisturbed, dear heart; God is as near to Tordesillas as to London, andHe is stronger than all evil men and devils. Unto His keeping I commendthee. From Tordesillas, this Monday.

  "Thine own to her little power, Annis Holland.

  "I pray thee, make my commendations unto Mr Avery and all thine."

  When Christmas Day came, the Averys did what half London was doing: theywalked down to Westminster, to the great pulpit set up in the King'sgarden. Into the pulpit came a rather tall, spare old man, with awrinkled face, a large Roman nose, shaggy eyebrows, and radiant, shiningeyes. And before the sermon was over, the eyes had kindled with a livecoal from the altar of the Lord, and the firm voice was ringing clearlyto every corner of that vast gathering. The preacher was Hugh Latimer.

  He was about to leave London the next morning for Grimsthorpe, where hehad undertaken, at the request of the Duchess of Suffolk, to deliver toher and her household a series of lectures on the Lord's Prayer. Afterthe sermon, those quick bright eyes speedily found out Edward Underhill,and the old man came down from the pulpit and shook hands with him.Then he turned to Isoult Avery, who stood near. He remembered meetingher at Ampthill and Guildford, some ten years before; and he blessedher, and asked what family she had; and when she told him, "Three," hesaid, "God bless them, and make them His childre." Then he laid hishand upon little Kate's head and blessed her; and then away, walkingwith a quick firm step, like a man whose work was but half done; withAugustine Bernher behind him, ca
rrying the old man's Bible.

  This year Saint Nicholas "went not about." The ceremony had previouslytaken place on his eve, December 5, when the priests carried his imageround from house to house, and gave small presents to the children asfrom the saint. The modern American custom of "Santa Claus" is a relicof the old procession of Saint Nicholas; though the Dutch form of thename shows it to have been derived not from the English, but the Dutch,settlers. Kate's Protestantism was not yet sufficiently intelligent toprevent her from regretting Saint Nicholas; but Dr Thorpe coaxed Estherto make a handful of sugar-plums, whereon he regaled his disappointedpet.

  The close of the year brought treats for both parents and children. AtSaint Paul's, Bishop Ridley preached for five evenings together; and atCheapside, with the new year, came the Lord of Misrule--again GeorgeFerris--making his proclamations, and dining in state with the LordMayor. And at Shene, my Lord of Northumberland founded the firsthot-house, and presented a nosegay of living flowers to the King on NewYear's Day.

  So, in flowers and laughter, came in the awful year 1553--most awfulyear of all the century.

  One morning in January, as Isoult stood waiting for John, to go with himto Latimer's sermon, who should walk in but Philippa Basset, whose stayin Cheshire had been much longer than she anticipated. She brought manya scrap of Northern news, and Lady Bridget's loving commendations toIsoult. And "Whither away?" asked she.

  "Truly," said Isoult, "to the King's Garden, to hear Mr Latimer preach."

  "Marry," said she, "I did never yet hear that mighty Gospeller. Have [Iwill go] with you, an' you will take me."

  "With a very good will," said Isoult.

  So she went with them, and listened to Latimer's sermon, wherein therewere some things which Isoult felt would vex her; for the subject waspraying to saints, and he said, "Invocation declareth an omnipotency."But not a word could Isoult get from her when they came home (for shestayed and dined with them), which showed how she liked it. Only shewould say, "The man speaketh well; he hath good choice of words," andsimilar phrases; but on all points concerning his doctrine she keptsilence.

  As Isoult sat at her sewing the next morning, with Walter at hishornbook, and Kate at her arithmetic beside her, a rap on the doorbrought Ursula to open it. Isoult fancied she knew the voice whichasked "if Mistress Avery there dwelt," but she could not think all atonce whose it was; yet the minute she came into the chamber, she wellknew her old friend and colleague, Beatrice Vivian.

  Beatrice was fair and rosy, and looked well and happy, as she said shewas. So when the ladies had sat and talked a little, and Beatrice hadkissed the children, and told Isoult that she had two, whose names wereMuriel and Alice, and that Mr Vivian was well, and other details: shesaid--

  "Isoult, I have news for thee, which by thy leave I will have thee toguess."

  "Is it good or bad?" said Isoult.

  "Why, good, I hope," said Beatrice. "'Tis a wedding, and both bride andbridegroom we know."

  "Dear heart," sighed Isoult, "I am an ill guesser, as thou wist of old.Is it Mr Dynham?" [Fictitious person.]

  "What, my brother Leonard?" said she. "Nay, sweet heart; he hath beenwed these six years."

  "Is it over, or to come?"

  "Over, this New Year, or should be," answered Beatrice. "Dost thou lackhelp? what thinkest of my Lady of Suffolk her own self?" [The date isfictitious. It was probably about Christmas, 1552.]

  "Beatrice, dear heart!" cried Isoult. "Thou meanest not that?"

  "Ay, but I do," said she, laughing. "And now, whom hath her Gracewedded?"

  "I would guess," said Isoult, "some gentleman of great riches and veryhigh degree."

  "Well, as to riches," she answered, "I fancy he hath hitherto earnedevery penny he hath spent; and in respect of degree, hath been used tothe holding of his mistress' stirrup. Canst thou guess now?"

  "Mr Bertie!" cried Isoult, in amazement. "Surely no!"

  "Surely so," answered Beatrice, again laughing. "Her Grace of Suffolkand Mr Bertie be now man and wife. And for my poor opinion, methinksshe hath chosen well for her own comfort."

  "I am rarely glad to hear it," Isoult answered; "so think I likewise."

  But for all that, she was exceedingly surprised.

  There was some murmuring in May. The Duke of Northumberland, in theKing's name, had ordered all the churches to furnish an account of theirgoods; and on the first day of that month, the treasuries were robbed ofall the plate, money, jewels, and vestments, which were confiscated tothe King's use; and the very bells of the churches shared their fate.Dr Thorpe had been growling over the matter in April, when it was but aproject; averring that "when he had caught a man's hand in his ownpocket, it little amazed him afterward to see it in his neighbour's:"but now, when the project reached open burglary, his anger found vent inhotter words.

  "Lo' you now! this cut-purse hath got his hand into an other man'spocket, even as I said. _Will_ no man put this companion into theTower? Can none clap him therein under any manner of warrant?"

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Note 1. A gesture well understood at that time, when plain speech wasoften perilous--the half-clasped hands resting upon the head in the formof a crown. By this gesture, fifty years later, when past speech, QueenElizabeth answered the question of Robert Cecil concerning hersuccessor. She meant, and he understood her to mean--"Let it be aKing."

  Note 2. The cause of the first tumult was a sudden panic, occasioned bythe running of some of the guards who arrived late; the second was dueto the appearance of Sir Anthony Browne, whom the people fancied hadbeen sent with a reprieve.

  Note 3. "Kingdoms are but cares, State is devoid of stay, Riches are ready snares, And hasten to decay."

  _King Henry the Sixth_.

  Note 4. Don and Dona are prefixes restricted to the Christian name. AnEnglishman using Don with the surname (an error to which our countrymenare strangely prone) commits the very same blunder for which he laughsat the Frenchman who says "Sir Peel."

  Note 5. A common Spanish greeting, the absurdity of which makes ussympathise with Lope de Vega's Diana, in her matter-of-factreply,--"Estan a los pies asidas" (They are fixed to my feet).

  Note 6. Inez, the form more familiar to English readers, is thePortuguese spelling.

  Note 7. Katherine is not really a translation of Catalina, but theywere considered interchangeable at this time.

  Note 8. Denia was at one time anxious to get rid of De Avila, becausehe was too gentle and lenient!