The Golden Grasshopper: A story of the days of Sir Thomas Gresham

by William Henry Giles Kingston

  CHAPTER SIX.

  IN FLEET PRISON.

  Ernst Verner and Andrew A'Dale began bitterly to repent their folly inhaving come out of the City. Still more so did they when the insurgentsmet a body of the Queen's troops near Temple Bar. Sir Thomas Wyatt'smen, though they for some time fought bravely, many losing their lives,were at length put to flight, and a herald advancing, urged their leaderto yield himself a prisoner, and to submit to the Queen's clemency. Thefriends around him, however, entreated him rather to fly than to trustto one under such evil influences as was her Majesty, but in despair heat length yielded himself up to Sir Maurice Berkley. It was a sad sightto see poor Sir Thomas mounted on a horse behind Sir Maurice, andcarried off to Westminster. As this is not a record of public events,it may briefly be said that the clemency afforded to Sir Thomas Wyattwas that of death, he being some time afterwards executed.

  There can be no doubt that this insurrection hastened the execution ofthe young and talented Lady Jane Grey, and of her husband, Lord GuilfordDudley. The event just described took place on the 7th of February,1554, and on the 12th Lord Guilford Dudley was led out of his prison todie on Tower Hill. Ernst and A'Dale heard, as boys are apt to hear,that some event of importance was about to take place, and together theyfound their way to the spot, little knowing, however, what they were towitness. The bell tolled slowly when the young nobleman was led forthfrom the Tower to the scaffold. He gazed round him on that coldwinter's morning; yet colder seemed the hearts of those who were thusputting him out of life. After a short time allowed him for prayer, helaid his head on the block. The executioner held it up, and declared itto be the head of a traitor. It was then wrapped in a cloth, and hisbody was taken back in a cart to the Tower. The boys, with many otherpersons, now made their way within the walls, supposing that they wereto witness the interment of the young lord, but shortly they foundthemselves beneath the walls of the White Tower. There, on the greenopen space, a scaffold appeared. While they were wondering why it wasthere placed, a door at the foot of the Tower opened, and forthwith cameseveral guards and other persons. In their midst walked a lady, youngand lovely, moving with grace, and her countenance, though grave andsad, yet beaming with a radiance which seemed to the boys angelic.

  Young indeed she was, for she had as yet numbered only seventeensummers. She walked on with a firm step, not a tear appearing in hereyes. In her hand she held a book, from which she read, praying as shewalked. Thus she came to the scaffold. There she knelt down and againlifted up her heart in prayer to God. She was the Lady Jane Grey, thusabout cruelly to be put to death for no crime--no fault of hers. Whenshe rose, she handed her book from which she had been reading, to anofficer who stood by her side. He was Master Brydges, brother of theLieutenant of the Tower. In vain the priests who stood roundendeavoured to persuade her to die in the faith of Rome. She who had ashort time before uttered these memorable words, "I ground my faith uponGod's Word, and not upon the Church, for if the Church be a good Church,the faith of the Church must be tried by God's Word, and not God's Wordby the Church," could not, while God's grace supported her, abandon thepure Protestant truth she held. And now she was well prepared to die,for she trusted in the risen Saviour, all-powerful to keep her to theend. Tying the kerchief about her eyes, she felt for the block, andsaid, in a sweet, low voice, "What shall I do? Where is it?"

  One of those standing by guided her to the block, on which she then laiddown her head as if on a pillow, and stretched forth her body, seeminglyabout to rest, saying: "Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit." Noother word she spoke. The gleaming axe descended, and the life of thatyoung and virtuous and highly talented lady was thus cut short. HadErnst been alone he would have fallen to the ground, so faint and sickat heart did he become at the spectacle he had witnessed. But A'Dalewas of somewhat firmer stuff, and taking his companion by the arm, ledhim again out of the precincts of the Tower. The gates were once moreclosed.

  Such was the commencement of horrors which the City of London was towitness.

  On the following day, when morning broke, in all parts of London gallowswere found erected, from Billingsgate in the east to Hyde Park Corner inthe west, and in nineteen different places were these instruments ofdeath set up; and ere the close of that black day, forty-eight men hadbeen suspended on them, all accused of joining in the rebellion of SirThomas Wyatt. Still the prisons were full of captives; and a few daysafterwards several leaders and twenty-two common rebels were marched outof London under a strong escort to suffer death in Kent, there to striketerror into the hearts of the inhabitants.

  It was melancholy at that time to walk about London, for in everydirection the sight of men hanging in gibbets met the eye. Ernstdeclared that he would not again leave the house, and yet a feverishcuriosity compelled him, with A'Dale, often to traverse the streets.

  Still no news came of Master Gresham, and Lady Anne became very anxiousto hear of his safety.

  At length, one night, the wind blowing, and the rain pattering down onthe roof, a loud knocking was heard at the door, and after some time theporter, being aroused, went to the watch-hole to see who was without.As there was but a single horseman, the porter asked his business.

  "Don't you know me, knave?" asked the voice of James Brocktrop; "openquickly! I have a message for our lady!"

  Saying this, as soon as the door was opened, he brought his horse intothe paved hall, and led it through to the back of the house, where thestables were situated.

  "Now hie thee to bed, knave," he said to the porter. "I will get forthee a cup of sack, that thou mayest sleep sounder after being thusaroused."

  In a short time Ernst was summoned by Lady Anne, and directed to bringJames Brocktrop into her presence, to hear the news he had brought fromher lord. They spoke for a short time together, when both went down tothe hall, Lady Anne calling Ernst to her. The door was opened, andJames Brocktrop sallied forth, leaving Lady Anne and Ernst to watch atthe door.

  In a short time Brocktrop returned, accompanied by another person, witha cloak wrapped closely round him which shaded his features. No soonerwas he inside than the door was again closed, and, without speaking aword, Lady Anne led him along to the stairs, and together they ascendedto the upper part of the house.

  "Who is that?" asked Ernst of Brocktrop; "surely I know the figure ofthe stranger."

  "It will be wise in you to know nothing about the matter, young master,"answered Brocktrop: "some knowledge is dangerous, especially in thesetimes."

  Ernst formed his own opinion on the subject. He had little doubt whothe stranger was.

  "Now hie thee to bed, lad, hie thee to bed," said Master Brocktrop, "andforget, if thou canst, that thou hast been awakened out of thy sleep;and if thou art cross-questioned at any time, thou wilt remember thatwhich has passed to-night is but an idle dream not to be spoken of."

  Ernst went back to his room, which he shared with the young RichardGresham, and was soon again fast asleep.

  After this, Lady Anne no longer spoke of her anxiety regarding the fateof her husband; but she saw no guests, and those who called on businesswere told that as soon as Master Gresham returned, and was able to seethem, he would willingly hear what they had to communicate.

  Master Gresham was not the only Protestant gentleman of repute who wasat this time anxious about himself. Many who had come prominentlyforward during the reign of King Edward were now placed in great fear inconsequence of the proceedings of the Queen's ministers. A sermon, ashort time before preached by Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, before theQueen, greatly alarmed the minds of those who held Protestantprinciples, in which he had entreated that, as before open rebellion andconspiracy had sprung out of her leniency, she would now be merciful tothe body of the commonwealth and conservation thereof, which could notbe unless the rotten and hurtful members thereof were cut off andconsumed. In truth, it was well-known that she and her counsellors haddetermined to carry through the matter of restoring the Popish fa
ith byfire and blood. Ernst especially trembled when he heard that Philip,the son of the cruel persecutor of the Netherlands, had arrived inEngland, and that he had been married to Queen Mary on the 25th of June,the festival of Saint James, the Patron Saint of Spain, and thathenceforth he was to be called King of England. Gardiner, who performedthe ceremony, was treated with great respect, and at the banquet whichfollowed was the only person permitted to sit upon the dais with theKing and Queen.

  And now all the gibbets in London were taken down, so that the deadbodies hanging thereon might not offend the sight of the King, who,however, had been too much accustomed to see the subjects of his fatherburned because they trusted in God's Word to have felt any greatrepugnance to the spectacle.

  Everywhere the streets of London were filled with Spaniards, who walkedhaughtily about with their cloaks over their shoulders and swords bytheir sides, greatly to the displeasure of the citizens, who oftenseemed disposed to place them all, with their Prince, on board thevessels in the Thames, and send them forthwith again out of the country.And now preparations were complete for the state visit of the King andQueen to the City.

  Banners were hung out along the streets; all sorts of designs wereprepared, while all public spots which would allow of paintings wereornamented with various devices; among others, the conduit inGracechurch Street was decorated with pictures of Henry the Eighth andEdward the Sixth, and of the nine worthies. Henry was represented witha Bible in his hand, on which was written, "Verbum Dei."

  Now the Queen and a vast number of nobles--English, Flemish, andSpanish--rode through the City in great state; but few of the mobcheered, or cried, "God save the King and Queen!" Many, indeed, utteredvery different exclamations, at which Mary, and Bishop Gardiner, werevery wroth, scarcely attempting to conceal their anger. Still moreangry was the Bishop when he arrived in Gracechurch Street, and saw therepresentation of King Henry with a Bible in his hand. Immediately hesent some one to call the painter before him, who, on his appearing, hadnumerous foul words showered down on his head.

  "Thou art an accursed traitor!" he added. "Who bade thee thus paint thegood King with a book in his hand? Thou shalt be sent to the Fleetbecause thou art a fool, if not a traitor."

  The poor painter humbly apologised, saying that he thought, as KingHenry had allowed the Bible to be read in all churches, it was right topaint him in that manner.

  "No, no, knave!" answered the bishop. "Such a painting is against theQueen's Catholic proceedings. She does not esteem the Bible as the vileheretics do. Now go and paint out the book, or thy head will grace oneof the first fresh gibbets which will soon be erected in the City."

  The painter hastened off, and painting out the Bible, put in the King'shands a pair of gloves in its stead.

  Ernst, as has been said, was watching the procession, but with a bitterheart. He did not intend to make any sign of disrespect: he simplyavoided shouting, or showing that he was pleased at the arrival of thePrince, when suddenly he found his arm seized by a person with a firmgrasp.

  "What want you with me?" he asked, looking up, and almost expecting tosee the person who had before warned him that Master Gresham was indanger.

  "Thou art a young traitor, and must prepare to go with me to prison,"said the officer of justice. "I saw thee just now make signs of hatredtowards the Queen. For this alone thou deservest to die; we can have notraitors in England."

  In vain Ernst pleaded that he had not done any wrong, and that though hehad not shouted, neither had the great mass of people standing round.This seemed somewhat to stagger the officer. The man was about, indeed,to let Ernst go, when a priest, who had been standing near, steppedforward, and looking the boy earnestly in the face, exclaimed: "Oh!young traitor, I saw thee when I was performing mass at Saint MaryOvery, and the rebels under Wyatt attacked the church. Thou wert amongthose who stripped the altar, and endeavoured to carry off the silvercandlesticks. Young heretic and traitor that thou art! Off to theFleet with him! I wot that his father and friends are as bad as he is;and when they come to look for him they shall be secured likewise. Ican swear to his countenance. See! he trembles and turns pale. He isguilty, there is no doubt of it."

  "Indeed I am not, master!" exclaimed Ernst. "At the time you speak of,I was on the north side of the river. Only once, when I entered London,did I ever cross London Bridge."

  "Thou wouldest swear to any falsehood, young traitor," answered thepriest. "Thy word is of no value."

  "But I can swear that he did not cross London Bridge on that day!"exclaimed Andrew A'Dale, who had been at some little distance from Ernstat the time, but, seeing him seized hold of by the guard, had hurriedup, and heard the last remarks of the priest.

  "Ah, ah!" exclaimed the priest, looking at Andrew, "why, of course thouwilt swear anything for thy companion, for thou wert there thyself. Thynature is shown clearly enough, because thou didst not shout for thegood Queen Mary and her loving spouse. Seize him also: carry them bothaway to the Fleet. They are a brace of traitors and heretics. Awaywith them! Away with them!"

  On this both the lads were seized, and, in spite of all theirexpostulations and assertions of their innocence, were being dragged offby the officers of the so-called justice. At that instant, arichly-dressed gentleman on horseback, who had for some reason remainedsomewhat behind the royal party, was passing by in order to rejoin them.Observing the youth struggling in the hands of the guards, he turnedhis head aside. He gave a second glance at Ernst's countenance, andafter doing so stopped his horse, and made a sign to the guard to allowthe boys to approach. "What, my lad," he exclaimed, "have you beenbreaking the peace? Of what crime are you accused?"

  Ernst looked up at the speaker, and recognised Sir John De Leigh.

  "I am wrongfully accused of having been, with other boys, at the churchof Saint Mary Overy when it was sacked; but to my knowledge I have neverbeen near the place, and during the whole of that day was on the northside of the river."

  "I believe your words, my boy, and will see what can be done for you,"answered Sir John.

  He spoke to the guards, but they shook their heads. The boys had beengiven into their charge by Father Overton, and they dared not let themgo free. In vain Sir John offered to be answerable for them. "Thefather is in the service of Bishop Gardiner, and he is not one likely topardon us, should we allow the prisoners to escape."

  "Well, my lads, I am afraid you must submit to it," said Sir John, in akind voice. "But trust to me; I will see after you, and hope, if youcan prove yourselves innocent, to get you set free."

  "Thank you, sir," said Ernst; "but, in the meantime, I fear me much thatLady Anne will be anxious at not hearing of me, and so will A'Dale'sfriends; will you, therefore, send to her, and beg her also to let themknow what has become of him?"

  "You are a thoughtful boy," answered Sir John; "I will see to it;" andslipping a purse into Ernst's hands, he rode on, whispering as he didso, "You will require that to obtain some few necessaries in prison."

  Seeing there was no help for it, the boys walked on rapidly,endeavouring to look as little like prisoners as possible. Theirguards, indeed, with their heavy arms, had some difficulty in keeping upwith them. Proceeding down Cheapside, they reached Ludgate, and thenturning to the north by the banks of the river Fleet, they arrived atthe entrance of the prison, surrounded by strong walls. On either sideof the entrance, which had a room overhead, were two low, tower-likebuildings facing a flight of steps leading down to the river. Theporter quickly opened the gate, and eagerly received his prisoners, wellpleased at the thoughts of the fees they might bring him.

  "Glad to see you, my young masters; we shall find you pleasantapartments, I doubt not; and maybe you will occupy them to the end ofyour days--or perchance until you go forth to grace one of the gibbetswith which our ancient city has of late been adorned."

  The guards, having received a proper acknowledgment from the warden ofthe delivery of the prisoners, demanded a fee, that they might have
thehonour of drinking their healths, and were evidently disappointed whenA'Dale stoutly refused to yield to their demands. The boys were nowcarried before the governor of the prison, or sub-warden, as he wascalled, who farmed the management from the warden, his chief businessbeing to wring, as much out of the prisoners as he possibly could,either by threats, or barbarous treatment, or offers of favour to beshown them.

  A'Dale, who was a well-practised London lad, and knew its waysthoroughly, whispered to Ernst to produce only one of his coins at atime, being very sure that the sub-warden would otherwise not grant themany favour until he had possessed himself of the greater number. Ernstaccordingly at once placed a couple of marks in the warden's hands.

  "There, Master Warden," he said; "we are unjustly brought in here; butwe would desire, while we remain, to enjoy such conveniences as theplace can afford."

  "Of course, young masters, all who come hither consider themselvesbrought here unjustly. You shall have an upper chamber, or at least aportion of one, as perchance you may have companions, whence you canenjoy a view of the Fleet river, and the barges passing up and down it.Such bedding as many a dignitary of the Church has had to rest on, andfood from my own buttery. More, surely, you cannot desire; and, harkyou! these two marks are very well as a beginning, but I must see moreof them, or you will find your quarters and your fare changed prettyspeedily." The sub-warden having thus, as he said, examined hisprisoners, summoned the jailer to conduct them to the apartments heindicated.