CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
ILL MAY DAY.
"With two and two together tied, Through Temple Bar and Strand they go, To Westminster, there to be tried, Ropes about their necks also." _Ill May Day_.
And where was Stephen? Crouching, wretched with hunger, cold,weariness, blows, and what was far worse, sense of humiliation anddisgrace, and tenor for the future, in a corner of the yard of Newgate--whither the whole set of lads, surprised in Warwick Inner Court by thelaw students of the Inns of Court, had been driven like so many cattle,at the sword's point, with no attention or perception that he and Gileshad been struggling against the spoilers.
Yet this fact made them all the more forlorn. The others, some forty innumber, their companions in misfortune, included most of the Barbicanprentices, who were of the Eagle faction, special enemies alike toAbenali and to the Dragon, and these held aloof from Headley andBirkenholt, nay, reviled them for the attack which they declared hadcaused the general capture.
The two lads of the Dragon had, in no measured terms, denounced thecruelty to the poor old inoffensive man, and were denounced in theirturn as friends of the sorcerer. But all were too much exhausted by thenight's work to have spirit for more than a snarling encounter of words,and the only effect was that Giles and Stephen were left isolated intheir misery outside the shelter of the handsome arched gateway underwhich the others congregated.
Newgate had been rebuilt by Whittington out of pity to poor prisonersand captives. It must have been unspeakably dreadful before, for thefoulness of the narrow paved court, shut in by strong walls, wassomething terrible. Tired, spent, and aching all over, and with boyishcallousness to dirt, still Giles and Stephen hesitated to sit down, andwhen at last they could stand no longer, they rested, leaning againstone another. Stephen tried to keep up hope by declaring that his masterwould soon get them released, and Giles alternated between despair, anddeclarations that he would have justice on those who so treated hisfather's son. They dropped asleep--first one and then the other--fromsheer exhaustion, waking from time to time to realise that it was nodream, and to feel all the colder and more cramped.
By and by there were voices at the gate. Friends were there askingafter their own Will, or John, or Thomas, as the case might be. Thejailer opened a little wicket-window in the heavy door, and, no doubtfor a consideration, passed in food to certain lads whom he called out,but it did not always reach its destination. It was often torn away asby hungry wolves. For though the felons had been let out, when thedoors were opened; the new prisoners were not by any means allapprentices. There were watermen, husbandmen, beggars, thieves, amongthem, attracted by the scent of plunder; and even some of the elder ladshad no scruple in snatching the morsel from the younger ones.
Poor little Jasper Hope, a mischievous little curly-headed idle fellow,only thirteen, just apprenticed to his brother the draper, and rushingabout with the other youths in the pride of his flat cap, was one of thesufferers. A servant had been at the door, promising that his brotherwould speedily have him released, and handing in bread and meat, ofwhich he was instantly robbed by George Bates and three or four more bigfellows, and sent away reeling and sobbing, under a heavy blow, with allthe mischief and play knocked out of him. Stephen and Giles called"Shame!" but were unheeded, and they could only draw the little fellowup to them, and assure him that his brother would soon come for him.
The next call at the gate was Headley and Birkenholt--
"Master Headley's prentices--Be they here?"
And at their answer, not only the window, but the door in the gate wasopened, and stooping low to enter, Kit Smallbones came in, and notempty-handed.
"Ay, ay, youngsters," said he, "I knew how it would be, by what I sawelsewhere, so I came with a fee to open locks. How came ye to get intosuch plight as this? And poor little Hope too! A fine pass when theyput babes in jail."
"I'm prenticed!" said Jasper, though in a very weak little voice.
"Have you had bite or sup?" asked Kit.
And on their reply, telling how those who had had supplies from home hadbeen treated, Smallbones observed, "Let them try it," and stood, at allhis breadth, guarding the two youths and little Jasper, as they ate,Stephen at first with difficulty, in the dampness and foulness of theplace, but then ravenously. Smallbones lectured them on their folly allthe time, and made them give an account of the night. He said theirmaster was at the Guildhall taking counsel with the Lord Mayor, andthere were reports that it would go hard with the rioters, for murderand plunder had been done in many places, and he especially looked at.Giles with pity, and asked how he came to embroil himself with MasterMundy? Still his good-natured face cheered them, and he promisedfurther supplies. He also relieved Stephen's mind about his brother,telling of his inquiry at the Dragon in the morning. All that day thecondition of such of the prisoners as had well-to-do friends wasimproving. Fathers, brothers, masters, and servants, came in quest ofthem, bringing food and bedding, and by exorbitant fees to the jailersobtained for them shelter in the gloomy cells. Mothers could not come,for a proclamation had gone out that none were to babble, and men wereto keep their wives at home. And though there were more materialcomforts, prospects were very gloomy. Ambrose came when Kit Smallbonesreturned with what Mrs Headley had sent the captives. He looked sadand dazed, and clung to his brother, but said very little, except thatthey ought to be locked up together, and he really would have been leftin Newgate, if Kit had not laid a great hand on his shoulder and almostforced him away.
Master Headley himself arrived with Master Hope in the afternoon.Jasper sprang to his brother, crying, "Simon! Simon! you are come totake me out of this dismal, evil place?" But Master Hope--a tall,handsome, grave young man, who had often been much disturbed by hislittle brother's pranks--could only shake his head with tears in hiseyes, and, sitting down on the roll of bedding, take him on his knee andtry to console him with the hope of liberty in a few days.
He had tried to obtain the boy's release on the plea of his extremeyouth, but the authorities were hotly exasperated, and would hear of nomercy. The whole of the rioters were to be tried three days hence, andthere was no doubt that some would be made an example of; the onlyquestion was, how many?
Master Headley closely interrogated his own two lads, and was evidentlysorely anxious about his namesake, who, he feared, might be recognisedby Alderman Mundy and brought forward as a ringleader of thedisturbance; nor did he feel at all secure that the plea that he had noenmity to the foreigners, but had actually tried to defend Lucas andAbenali, would be attended to for a moment, though Lucas Hansen hadpromised to bear witness of it. Giles looked perfectly stunned at thetime, unable to take in the idea, but at night Stephen was wakened onthe pallet that they shared with little Jasper, by hearing him weepingand sobbing for his mother at Salisbury.
Time lagged on till the 4th of May. Some of the poor boys whiled awaytheir time with dreary games in the yard, sometimes wrestling, but moreoften gambling with the dice, that one or two happened to possess, forthe dinners that were provided for the wealthier, sometimes even bettingon what the sentences would be, and who would be hanged, or who escape.
Poor lads, they did not, for the most part, realise their real danger,but Stephen was more and more beset with home-sick longing for theglades and thickets of his native forest, and would keep little Jasperand even Giles for an hour together telling of the woodland adventuresof those happy times, shutting his eyes to the grim stone walls, andtrying to think himself among the beeches, hollies, cherries, andhawthorns, shining in the May sun! Giles and he were close friends now,and with little Jasper, said their Paters and Aves together, that theymight be delivered from their trouble. At last, on the 4th, the wholeof the prisoners were summoned roughly into the court, where harsh-looking men-at-arms proceeded to bind them together in pairs to bemarched through the streets to the Guildhall. Giles and Stephen wouldnaturally have been put together, but poor little Jasper cried out solamentably, when he
was about to be bound to a stranger, that Stephenstepped forward in his stead, begging that the boy might go with Giles.The soldier made a contemptuous sound, but consented, and Stephen foundthat his companion in misfortune, whose left elbow was tied to hisright, was George Bates.
The two lads looked at each other in a strange, rueful manner, andStephen said, "Shake hands, comrade. If we are to die, let us bear noill-will."
George gave a cold, limp, trembling hand. He looked wretched, subdued,tearful, and nearly starved, for he had no kinsfolk at hand, and hismaster was too angry with him, and too much afraid of compromisinghimself to have sent him any supplies. Stephen tried to unbutton hisown pouch, but not succeeding with his left hand, bade George try withhis right. "There's a cake of bread there," he said. "Eat that, andthou'lt be able better to stand up like a man, come what will."
George devoured it eagerly. "Ah!" he said, in a stronger voice,"Stephen Birkenholt, thou art an honest fellow. I did thee wrong. Ifever we get out of this plight--"
Here they were ordered to march, and in a long and doleful processionthey set forth. The streets were lined with men-at-arms, for all theaffections and sympathies of the people were with the unfortunate boys,and a rescue was apprehended.
In point of fact, the Lord Mayor and aldermen were afraid of the King'ssupposing them to have organised the assault on their rivals, and eachwas therefore desirous to show severity to any one's apprentices savehis own; while the nobility were afraid of contumacy on the part of thecitizens, and were resolved to crush down every rioter among them, sothat they had filled the city with their armed retainers. Fathers andmothers, masters and dames, sisters and fellow prentices, found theirdoors closely guarded, and could only look with tearful, anxious eyes,at the processions of poor youths, many of them mere children, who weredriven from each of the jails to the Guildhall. There when allcollected the entire number amounted to two hundred and seventy-eightthough a certain proportion of these were grown men, priests, wherrymenand beggars, who had joined the rabble in search of plunder.
It did not look well for them that the Duke of Norfolk and his son, theEarl of Surrey, were joined in the commission with the Lord Mayor. Theupper end of the great hall was filled with aldermen in their robes andchains, with the sheriffs of London and the whole imposing array, andthe Lord Mayor with the Duke sat enthroned above them in truly awfuldignity. The Duke was a hard and pitiless man, and bore the City abitter grudge for the death of his retainer, the priest killed inCheapside, and in spite of all his poetical fame, it may be feared thatthe Earl of Surrey was not of much more merciful mood, while their men-at-arms spoke savagely of hanging, slaughtering, or setting the City onfire.
The arraignment was very long, as there were so large a number of namesto be read, and, to the horror of all, it was not for a mere riot, butfor high treason. The King, it was declared, being in amity with allChristian princes, it was high treason to break the truce and league byattacking their subjects resident in England. The terrible punishmentof the traitor would thus be the doom of all concerned, and in thetemper of the Howards and their retainers, there was little hope ofmercy, nor, in times like those, was there even much prospect that, outof such large numbers, some might escape.
A few were more especially cited, fourteen in number, among them GeorgeBates, Walter Ball, and Giles Headley, who had certainly given cause forthe beginning of the affray. There was no attempt to defend GeorgeBates, who seemed to be stunned and bewildered beyond the power ofspeaking or even of understanding, but as Giles cast his eyes round inwild, terrified appeal, Master Headley rose up in his alderman's gown,and prayed leave to be heard in his defence, as he had witnesses tobring in his favour.
"Is he thy son, good Armourer Headley?" demanded the Duke of Norfolk,who held the work of the Dragon court in high esteem.
"Nay, my Lord Duke, but he is in the place of one, my near kinsman andgodson, and so soon as his time be up, bound to wed my only child! Ipray you to hear his cause, ere cutting off the heir of an old andhonourable house."
Norfolk and his sons murmured something about the Headley skill inarmour, and the Lord Mayor was willing enough for mercy, but Sir JohnMundy here rose: "My Lord Duke, this is the very young man who was firstto lay hands on me! Yea, my lords and sirs, ye have already heard howtheir rude sport, contrary to proclamation, was the cause of the tumult.When I would have bidden them go home, the one brawler asks meinsolently, `Wherefore?' the other smote me with his sword, whereuponthe whole rascaille set on me, and as Master Alderman Headley cantestify, I scarce reached his house alive. I ask should favour overcomejustice, and a ringleader, who hath assaulted the person of an alderman,find favour above others?"
"I ask not for favour," returned Headley, "only that witnesses be heardon his behalf, ere he be condemned."
Headley, as a favourite with the Duke, prevailed to have permission tocall his witnesses; Christopher Smallbones, who had actually rescuedAlderman Mundy from the mob, and helped him into the Dragon court, couldtestify that the proclamation had been entirely unheard in the din ofthe youths looking on at the game. And this was followed up by LucasHansen declaring that so far from having attacked or plundered him andthe others in Warwick Inner Ward, the two, Giles Headley and StephenBirkenholt, had come to their defence, and fallen on those who wereburning their goods.
On this a discussion followed between the authorities seated at theupper end of the hall. The poor anxious watchers below could only guessby the gestures what was being agitated as to their fate, and Stephenwas feeling it sorely hard that Giles should be pleaded for as themaster's kinsman, and he left to so cruel a fate, no one saying a wordfor him but unheeded Lucas. Finally, without giving of judgment, thewhole of the miserable prisoners, who had been standing without food forhours, were marched back, still tied, to their several prisons, whiletheir guards pointed out the gibbets where they were to suffer the nextday.
Master Headley was not quite so regardless of his younger apprentice asStephen imagined. There was a sort of little council held in his hallwhen he returned--sad, dispirited, almost hopeless--to find Hal Randallanxiously awaiting him. The alderman said he durst not plead forStephen, lest he should lose both by asking too much, and his youngkinsman had the first right, besides being in the most peril as havingbeen singled out by name; whereas Stephen might escape with themultitude if there were any mercy. He added that the Duke of Norfolkwas certainly inclined to save one who knew the secret of Spanish sword-blades; but that he was fiercely resolved to be revenged for the murderof his lewd priest in Cheapside, and that Sir John Mundy was equallydetermined that Giles should not escape.
"What am I to say to his mother? Have I brought him from her for this?"mourned Master Headley. "Ay, and Master Randall, I grieve as much forthy nephew, who to my mind hath done nought amiss. A brave lad! A goodlad, who hath saved mine own life. Would that I could do aught for him!It is a shame!"
"Father," said Dennet, who had crept to the back of his chair, "the Kingwould save him! Mind you the golden whistle that the grandame keepeth?"
"The maid hath hit it!" exclaimed Randall. "Master alderman! Let mebut have the little wench and the whistle to-morrow morn, and it isdone. How sayest thou, pretty mistress? Wilt thou go with me and askthy cousin's life, and poor Stephen's, of the King?"
"With all my heart, sir," said Dennet, coming to him with outstretchedhands. "Oh! sir, canst thou save them? I have been vowing all I couldthink of to our Lady and the saints, and now they are going to grantit!"
"Tarry a little," said the alderman. "I must know more of this. Wherewouldst thou take my child? How obtain access to the King's Grace?"
"Worshipful sir, trust me," said Randall. "Thou know'st I am swornservant to my Lord Cardinal, and that his folk are as free of the Courtas the King's own servants. If thine own folk will take us up the riverto Richmond, and there wait for us while I lead the maid to the King, Ican well-nigh swear to thee that she will prevail."
The al
derman looked greatly distressed. Ambrose threw himself on hisknees before him, and in an agony entreated him to consent, assuring himthat Master Randall could do what he promised. The alderman was muchperplexed. He knew that his mother, who was confined to her bed byrheumatism, would be shocked at the idea. He longed to accompany hisdaughter himself, but for him to be absent from the sitting of the courtmight be fatal to Giles, and he could not bear to lose any chance forthe poor youths.
Meantime an interrogative glance and a nod had passed between Tibble andRandall, and when the alderman looked towards the former, always hisprime minister, the answer was, "Sir, me seemeth that it were well to doas Master Randall counselleth. I will go with Mistress Dennet, if suchbe your will. The lives of two such youths as our prentices may notlightly be thrown away, while by God's providence there is any means ofstriving to save them."
Consent then was given, and it was further arranged that Dennet and herescort should be ready at the early hour of half-past four, so as toelude the guards who were placed in the streets; and also because KingHenry in the summer went very early to mass, and then to some out-of-door sport. Randall said he would have taken his own good woman to havethe care of the little mistress, but that the poor little orphan Spanishwench had wept herself so sick, that she could not be left to astranger.
Master Headley himself brought the child by back streets to the river,and thence down to the Temple stairs, accompanied by Tibble Steelman,and a maidservant on whose presence her grandmother had insisted.Dennet had hardly slept all night for excitement and perturbation, andshe looked very white, small, and insignificant for her thirteen years,when Randall and Ambrose met her, and placed her carefully in the bargewhich was to take them to Richmond. It was somewhat fresh in the veryearly morning, and no one was surprised that Master Randall wore a largedark cloak as they rowed up the river. There was very little speechbetween the passengers; Dennet sat between Ambrose and Tibble. Theykept their heads bowed. Ambrose's brow was on one hand, his elbow onhis knee, but he spared the other to hold Dennet. He had been longingfor the old assurance he would once have had, that to vow himself to alife of hard service in a convent would be the way to win his brother'slife; but he had ceased to be able to feel that such bargains were theright course, or that a convent necessarily afforded sure way ofservice, and he never felt more insecure of the way and means to prayerthan in this hour of anguished supplication.
When they came beyond the City, within sight of the trees of Sheen, asRichmond was still often called, Randall insisted that Dennet should eatsome of the bread and meat that Tibble had brought in a wallet for her."She must look her best," he said aside to the foreman. "I would thatshe were either more a babe or better favoured! Our Hal hath a tenderheart for a babe and an eye for a buxom lass."
He bade the maid trim up the child's cap and make the best of her array,and presently reached some stairs leading up to the park. There he letAmbrose lift her out of the boat. The maid would fain have followed,but he prevented this, and when she spoke of her mistress having biddenher follow wherever the child went, Tibble interfered, telling her thathis master's orders were that Master Randall should do with her as hethought meet. Tibble himself followed until they reached a thicketentirely concealing them from the river. Halting here, Randall, withhis nephew's help, divested himself of his long gown and cloak, hisbeard and wig, produced cockscomb and bauble from his pouch, and stoodbefore the astonished eyes of Dennet as the jester!
She recoiled upon Tibble with a little cry, "Oh, why should he makesport of us? Why disguise himself?"
"Listen, pretty mistress," said Randall. "'Tis no disguise, Tibblethere can tell you, or my nephew. My disguise lies there," pointing tohis sober raiment. "Thus only can I bring thee to the King's presence!Didst think it was jest? Nay, verily, I am as bound to try to save mysweet Stevie's life, my sister's own gallant son, as thou canst be toplead for thy betrothed." Dennet winced.
"Ay, Mistress Dennet," said Tibble, "thou mayst trust him, spite of hisgarb, and 'tis the sole hope. He could only thus bring thee in. Gothou on, and the lad and I will fall to our prayers."
Dennet's bosom heaved, but she looked up in the jester's dark eyes, sawthe tears in them, made an effort, put her hand in his, and said, "Iwill go with him."
Hal led her away, and they saw Tibble and Ambrose both fall on theirknees behind the hawthorn bush, to speed them with their prayers, whileall the joyous birds singing their carols around seemed to protestagainst the cruel captivity and dreadful doom of the young gladsomespirits pent up in the City prisons.
One full gush of a thrush's song in especial made Dennet's eyesoverflow, which the jester perceived and said, "Nay, sweet maid, notears. Kings brook not to be approached with blubbered faces. I marvelnot that it seems hard to thee to go along with such as I, but let me bewhat I will outside, mine heart is heavy enough, and thou wilt learnsooner or later, that fools are not the only folk who needs must smilewhen they have a load within."
And then, as much to distract her thoughts and prevent tears as toreassure her, he told her what he had before told his nephews of theinducements that had made him Wolsey's jester, and impressed on her theforms of address.
"Thou'lt hear me make free with him, but that's part of mine office,like the kitten I've seen tickling the mane of the lion in the Tower.Thou must say, `An it please your Grace,' and thou needst not speak ofhis rolling in the mire, thou wottest, or it may anger him."
The girl showed that her confidence became warmer by keeping nearer tohis side, and presently she said, "I must beg for Stephen first, for'tis his whistle."
"Blessings on thee, fair wench, for that, yet seest thou, 'tis the otherspringald who is in the greater peril, and he is closer to thy fatherand to thee."
"He fled, when Stephen made in to the rescue of my father," said Dennet.
"The saints grant we may so work with the King that he may spare themboth," ejaculated Randall.
By this time the strange pair were reaching the precincts of the greatdwelling-house, where about the wide-open door loitered gentlemen,grooms, lacqueys, and attendants of all kinds. Randall reconnoitred.
"An we go up among all these," he said, "they might make their sport ofus both, so that we might lose time. Let us see whether the littlegarden postern be open."
Henry the Eighth had no fears of his people, and kept his dwellings moreaccessible than were the castles of many a subject. The door in thewall proved to be open, and with an exclamation of joy, Randall pointedout two figures, one in a white silken doublet and hose, with a shortcrimson cloak over his shoulder, the other in scarlet and purple robes,pacing the walk under the wall--Henry's way of holding a cabinet councilwith his prime minister on a summer's morning.
"Come on, mistress, put a brave face on it!" the jester encouraged thegirl, as he led her forward, while the king, catching sight of them,exclaimed, "Ha! there's old Patch. What doth he there?"
But the Cardinal, impatient of interruption, spoke imperiously, "Whatdost thou here, Merriman? Away, this is no time for thy fooleries andfrolics."
But the King, with some pleasure in teasing, and some of the enjoymentof a schoolboy at a break in his tasks, called out, "Nay, come hither,quipsome one! What new puppet hast brought hither to play off on us?"
"Yea, brother Hal," said the jester, "I have brought one to let theeknow how Tom of Norfolk and his crew are playing the fool in theGuildhall, and to ask who will be the fool to let them wreak their spiteon the best blood in London, and leave a sore that will take many a dayto heal."
"How is this, my Lord Cardinal?" said Henry; "I bade them make anexample of a few worthless hinds, such as might teach the lusty burghersto hold their lads in bounds and prove to our neighbours that theirchurlishness was by no consent of ours."
"I trow," returned the Cardinal, "that one of these same hinds is a booncompanion of the fool's--_hinc illae lachrymae_, and a speech that wouldhave befitted a wise man's mouth."
"The
re is work that may well make even a fool grave, friend Thomas,"replied the jester.
"Nay, but what hath this little wench to say?" asked the King, lookingdown on the child from under his plumed cap with a face set in goldenhair, the fairest and sweetest, as it seemed to her, that she had everseen, as he smiled upon her. "Methinks she is too small to be thy love.Speak out, little one. I love little maids, I have one of mine own.Hast thou a brother among these misguided lads?"
"Not so, an please your Grace," said Dennet, who fortunately was not inthe least shy, and was still too young for a maiden's shamefastness."He is to be my betrothed. I would say, one of them is, but the other--he saved my father's life once."
The latter words were lost in the laughter of the King and Cardinal atthe unblushing avowal of the small, prim-faced maiden.
"Oh ho! So 'tis a case of true love, whereto a King's face must needsshow grace. Who art thou, fair suppliant, and who may this swain ofthine be?"
"I am Dennet Headley, so please your Grace; my father is Giles Headleythe armourer, Alderman of Cheap Ward," said Dennet, doing her partbravely, though puzzled by the King's tone of banter; "and see here,your Grace!"
"Ha! the hawk's whistle that Archduke Philip gave me! What of that? Igave it--ay, I gave it to a youth that came to mine aid, and reclaimed afalcon for me! Is't he, child?"
"Oh, sir, 'tis he who came in second at the butts, next to Barlow, 'tisStephen Birkenholt! And he did nought! They bore no ill-will tostrangers! No, they were falling on the wicked fellows who had robbedand slain good old Master Michael, who taught our folk to make the onlyreal true Damascus blades welded in England. But the lawyers of theInns of Court fell on them all alike, and have driven them off toNewgate, and poor little Jasper Hope too. And Alderman Mundy bears ill-will to Giles. And the cruel Duke of Norfolk and his men swear they'llhave vengeance on the Cheap, and there'll be hanging and quartering thisvery morn. Oh! your Grace, your Grace, save our lads! for Stephen savedmy father."
"Thy tongue wags fast, little one," said the King, good-naturedly, "withthy Stephen and thy Giles. Is this same Stephen, the knight of thewhistle and the bow, thy betrothed, and Giles thy brother?"
"Nay, your Grace," said Dennet, hanging her head, "Giles Headley is mybetrothed--that is, when his time is served, he will be--father setsgreat store by him, for he is the only one of our name to keep up thearmoury, and he has a mother, Sir, a mother at Salisbury. But oh, Sir,Sir! Stephen is so good and brave a lad! He made in to save fatherfrom the robbers, and he draws the best bow in Cheapside, and he cangrave steel as well as Tibble himself, and this is the whistle yourGrace wots of."
Henry listened with an amused smile that grew broader as Dennet's voiceall unconsciously became infinitely more animated and earnest, when shebegan to plead Stephen's cause.
"Well, well, sweetheart," he said, "I trow thou must have the twain ofthem, though," he added to the Cardinal, who smiled broadly, "it mightperchance be more for the maid's peace than she wots of now, were we toleave this same knight of the whistle to be strung up at once, ere shehave found her heart; but in sooth that I cannot do, owing well-nigh alife to him and his brother. Moreover, we may not have old Headley'sskill in weapons lost!"
Dennet held her hands close clasped while these words were spoken apart.She felt as if her hope, half granted, were being snatched from her, asanother actor appeared on the scene, a gentleman in a lawyer's gown, andsquare cap, which he doffed as he advanced and put his knee to theground before the King, who greeted him with, "Save you, good SirThomas, a fair morning to you."
"They told me your Grace was in Council with my Lord Cardinal," said SirThomas More; "but seeing that there was likewise this merry company, Idurst venture to thrust in, since my business is urgent."
Dennet here forgot court manners enough to cry out, "O your Grace! yourGrace, be pleased for pity's sake to let me have the pardon for themfirst, or they'll be hanged and dead. I saw the gallows in Cheapside,and when they are dead, what good will your Grace's mercy do them?"
"I see," said Sir Thomas. "This little maid's errand jumps with mineown, which was to tell your Grace that unless there be speedy commandsto the Howards to hold their hands, there will be wailing like that ofEgypt in the City. The poor boys, who were but shouting and brawlingafter the nature of mettled youth--the most with nought of malice--arepenned up like sheep for the slaughter--ay, and worse than sheep, for wequarter not our mutton alive, whereas these poor younglings--babes ofthirteen, some of them--be indicted for high treason! Will the parents,shut in from coming to them by my Lord of Norfolks men, ever forgettheir agonies, I ask your Grace?"
Henry's face grew red with passion. "If Norfolk thinks to act the King,and turn the city into a shambles,"--with a mighty oath--"he shall abyeit. Here, Lord Cardinal--more, let the free pardon be drawn up for thetwo lads. And we will ourselves write to the Lord Mayor and to Norfolkthat though they may work their will on the movers of the riot--thatpestilent Lincoln and his sort--not a prentice lad shall be touched tillour pleasure be known. There now, child, thou hast won the lives of thylads, as thou callest them. Wilt thou rue the day, I marvel? Whycannot some of their mothers pluck up spirit and beg them off as thouhast done?"
"Yea," said Wolsey. "That were the right course. If the Queen weremoved to pray your Grace to pity the striplings, then could theSpaniards make no plaint of too much clemency being shown."
They were all this time getting nearer the palace, and being now at adoor opening into the hall, Henry turned round. "There, pretty maid,spread the tidings among thy gossips, that they have a tender-heartedQueen, and a gracious King. The Lord Cardinal will presently give theethe pardon for both thy lads, and by and by thou wilt know whether thouthankest me for it!" Then putting his hand under her chin, he turned upher face to him, kissed her on each cheek, and touched his feathered capto the others, saying, "See that my bidding be done," and disappeared.
"It must be prompt, if it be to save any marked for death this morn,"More in a low voice observed to the Cardinal. "Lord Edmund Howard iskeen as a bloodhound on his vengeance."
Wolsey was far from being a cruel man, and besides, there was a naturalantagonism between him and the old nobility, and he liked and valued hisfool, to whom he turned, saying, "And what stake hast thou in this,sirrah? Is't all pure charity?"
"I'm scarce such a fool as that, Cousin Red Hat," replied Randall,rallying his powers. "I leave that to Mr More here, whom we all knowto be a good fool spoilt. But I'll make a clean breast of it. Thissame Stephen is my sister's son, an orphan lad of good birth andbreeding--whom, my lord, I would die to save."
"Thou shalt have the pardon instantly, Merriman," said the Cardinal, andbeckoning to one of the attendants who clustered round the door, he gaveorders that a clerk should instantly, and very briefly, make out theform. Sir Thomas More, hearing the name of Headley, added that for himindeed the need of haste was great, since he was one of the fourteensentenced to die that morning.
Quipsome Hal was interrogated as to how he had come, and the Cardinaland Sir Thomas agreed that the river would be as speedy a way ofreturning as by land; but they decided that a King's pursuivant shouldaccompany him, otherwise there would be no chance of forcing his way intime through the streets, guarded by the Howard retainers.
As rapidly as was in the nature of a high officer's clerk to produce adozen lines, the precious document was indicted, and it was carried atlast to Dennet, bearing Henry's signature and seal. She held it to herbosom, while, accompanied by the pursuivant, who--happily for them--wasinterested in one of the unfortunate fourteen, and therefore did notwait to stand on his dignity, they hurried across to the place wherethey had left the barge--Tibble and Ambrose joining them on the way.Stephen was safe. Of his life there could be no doubt, and Ambrosealmost repented of feeling his heart so light while Giles's fate hungupon their speed.
The oars were plied with hearty good-will, but the barge was somewhatheavy, and by and by coming to a l
anding-place where two watermen had amuch smaller and lighter boat, the pursuivant advised that he should goforward with the more necessary persons, leaving the others to follow.After a few words, the light weights of Tibble and Dennet prevailed intheir favour, and they shot forward in the little boat.
They passed the Temple--on to the stairs nearest Cheapside--up thestreet. There was an awful stillness, only broken by heavy knellssounding at intervals from the churches. The back streets were throngedby a trembling, weeping people, who all eagerly made way for thepursuivant, as he called, "Make way, good people--a pardon!"
They saw the broader space of Cheapside. Horsemen in armour guarded it,but they too opened a passage for the pursuivant. There was to be seenabove the people's heads a scaffold. A fire burnt on it--the gallowsand noosed rope hung above.
A figure was mounting the ladder. A boy! Oh, Heavens! would it be toolate? Who was it? They were still too far off to see. They might onlybe cruelly holding out hope to one of the doomed.
The pursuivant shouted aloud--"In the King's name, Hold!" He liftedDennet on his shoulder, and bade her wave her parchment. Anoverpowering roar arose. "A pardon! a pardon! God save the King!"
Every hand seemed to be forwarding the pursuivant and the child, and itwas Giles Headley, who, loosed from the hold of the executioner, staredwildly about him, like one distraught.
The Armourer's Prentices Page 17
