The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  “Wherever a cat can go, I can,” thought Xit; “that roof reached, I could pass along the summits of the ramparts and fortifications connecting it with the lieutenant’s lodgings; and on arriving there, it were easy to descend the chimney, and get into the Earl’s chamber. Bravo! that will do.”

  The plan so enchanted him that he was in a fever to put it in execution. This however, could not take place till night, and retiring to a little distance to survey the premises, he satisfied himself, after some consideration, that he had discovered the chimney communicating with the Earl’s room. When the proper time arrived, he cautiously approached the tree, and looking round to make sure no one observed him, he clambered up it with the agility of a squirrel. Notwithstanding his caution, a serious accident had nearly befallen him. Just as he was about to spring upon the wall, the bough on which he stood broke. Luckily he caught hold of a projection of the building, and saved himself. But he was some minutes before he recovered from the fright. The noise, too, had nearly betrayed him to the sentinels, who approached within a few paces of him. But the darkness was so profound that he escaped observation. When they returned to their posts he proceeded along the ridge of the battlements, and dropping upon the ballium wall, proceeded with the utmost caution to the edge of the ramparts. He then passed on tiptoe close to the guard, and hastening forward, reached the tiled roof of the lieutenant’s house, up which he clambered, as noiselessly and actively as the animal he emulated.

  On gaining the chimney he was in search of, he untied a cord with which he had provided himself, and securing it to the brickwork, let one end drop down the aperture. He then descended, and soon came to a level with the chamber, and perceiving a light within it, resolved to reconnoitre before he ventured further. Courtenay was asleep on a couch in the corner, while two attendants were likewise slumbering upon seats near the door. At a loss how to act, as he could scarcely awaken the Earl without disturbing the guards, Xit got out of the chimney, and crept cautiously towards the couch. He would fain have extinguished the lamp, but it was out of his reach. Planting himself on the further side of the couch, so as to conceal himself from the attendants, he ventured at length slightly to shake the sleeper. Courtenay started, and uttered an exclamation which immediately aroused his guards.

  “Who touched me?” he demanded angrily.

  “No one, my lord,” replied the foremost of the men, glancing at the door and round the chamber. “Your lordship must have been dreaming.”

  “I suppose it must be so,” replied the Earl, looking round and perceiving nothing. “And yet—”

  At this moment a slight pressure on the hand warned him to be silent.

  “If your lordship wishes it, we will search the room,” observed the second soldier.

  “No, no, it is needless,” replied Courtenay. “I have no doubt it was a dream.”

  In a few minutes the soldiers were again snoring, and Xit, popping his head from beneath the coverlet, in a low tone delivered his message. The Earl expressed his satisfaction, and proceeded to make inquiries respecting the Princess Elizabeth. On learning that she had quitted the Tower the day before, he had much ado to restrain his joy. And when he ascertained by what means the dwarf had obtained access to the chamber, he was desirous to attempt an escape by the same way, but was dissuaded by Xit, who represented to him the risk he would incur, adding that even if he escaped from his present prison, he would be unable to quit the Tower.

  The dwarf then departed as he came. Climbing up the chimney, he drew the rope after him, retraced his course over the fortifications; and on reaching the Bloody Tower, contrived, with much exertion, and no little risk, to lay hold of a branch of the tree, down which he clambered. The next day he related the successful issue of his trip to his employer.

  De Noailles did not remain idle. He had already mentioned his project to the Duke of Suffolk, Lord Thomas Grey, Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, Sir James Croft, Sir Peter Carew, and Sir Thomas Wyat, all of whom eagerly joined in it. With most of these, but especially with Wyat, afterwards the leader of the rebellion against Mary, the main inducement to conspire was aversion to the Queen’s meditated alliance with the Prince of Spain. With the Duke of Suffolk and his ambitious brother, Lord Thomas Grey, it was (as De Noailles had foreseen) the hope that in the tumult the Lady Jane Grey might be restored, that purchased their compliance. The conspirators had frequent secret meetings in the apartments of the French ambassador, where they conferred upon their plans. Suffolk, though pardoned for his late treason by Mary, was yet detained a prisoner on parole within the Tower. His brother had not taken a sufficiently prominent part to bring him into trouble. The bravest of their number was Wyat, of whom it may be necessary to say a few words.

  Inheriting the wit and valor of his father, the refined and courtly poet of the same name, Sir Thomas Wyat of Allingham Castle in Kent, had already earned for himself the highest character as a military leader. His father’s friend, the chivalrous and poetical Earl of Surrey, in one of his despatches to Henry the Eighth, thus describes his conduct at the siege of Boulogne: “I assure your Majesty, you have framed him to such towardness and knowledge in the war, that (none other dispraised) your Majesty hath not many like him within your realm, for hardiness, painfulness, circumspection, and natural disposition, for the war.” Wyat was in the very flower of his age. But his long service — for from his earliest youth he had embraced the profession of arms — had given him an older look than his years warranted. He was of middle size, strongly but symmetrically proportioned, with handsome boldly-carved features, of a somewhat stern expression. His deportment partook of his frank soldier-like character. In swordmanship, horsemanship, and all matters connected with the business of war, he was, as may be supposed, eminently skilful.

  After much deliberation, it was agreed among the conspirators to have all in readiness for a general insurrection, but to defer their project until the meeting of parliament, when the Queen’s intentions respecting her alliance with Spain would be declared, and if what they anticipated should prove true, the whole nation would favor their undertaking.

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  HOW COURTENAY ESCAPED FROM THE TOWER.

  WHILE the great outbreak was thus deferred, it was deemed expedient to liberate Courtenay as soon as possible. Such were the precautions taken by the vigilant Sir Henry Bedingfeld, that this was not so easy of accomplishment as it appeared on the onset. At length, however, all was arranged, and Xit was despatched to the Earl to tell him the attempt might be made on the following night, when unluckily, just as the mannikin had entered the chimney, one of the guards awakened, and hearing a noise, flew to see what occasioned it. Exerting his utmost agility, the dwarf was soon out of reach, and the attendant could not distinguish his person, but he instantly gave the alarm.

  Fleeing for his life, Xit got out of the chimney, hurried along the tops of the ramparts, and jumping at the hazard of his neck into the tree, reached the ground just as the alarm was given to the sentinels. It was past midnight. But Sir Henry Bedingfeld, aroused from his couch, instantly repaired to the chamber of his prisoner. Nothing could be found but the rope by which Xit had descended, and which in his hasty retreat he had not been able to remove. Courtenay refused to answer any interrogations respecting his visitor, and after a long and fruitless search, the lieutenant departed.

  The next day, the occurrence was made known to the Queen, and at her request Simon Renard visited the prisoner. Not thinking his place of confinement secure enough, Renard suggested that he should be removed to the Bell Tower — a fortification flanking the lieutenant’s habitation on the west, and deriving its name, as has already been mentioned, from the alarm-bell of the fortress, which was placed in a small wooden belfry on its roof. This tower is still in existence, and devoted to the same purpose as of old — though its chambers, instead of being used as prison-lodgings, form the domestic offices of the governor. In shape it is circular, like all the other towers, with walls of great thickness pierced
by narrow loopholes, admitting light to the interior. Courtenay was confined in a small room on the basement floor, having a vaulted roof supported by pointed arches of curious construction, with deep recesses in the intervals. From this strong and gloomy cell it seemed impossible he could escape; and having seen him placed within it, Renard departed fully satisfied.

  When the intelligence of the Earl’s removal was brought to De Noailles, he was greatly disheartened; but Xit bade him be of good cheer, as he still felt certain of effecting his deliverance. Some time, however, elapsed before any new scheme could be devised; when one night Xit appeared with a smiling countenance, and said he had found means of communicating with the prisoner. On being questioned as to how he had contrived this, he replied that he had crept up to a loophole opening into the Earl’s chamber, and filed away one of the iron bars; and though the aperture was not large enough to allow a full-grown man to pass through it, he had done so without inconvenience, and under cover of night without being perceived. He then proceeded to detail a somewhat hazardous plan of flight, which Courtenay had determined to risk, provided his friends would second the attempt. All the Earl required was that a well-manned boat should be in waiting for him near the Tower wharf, to put off the instant he reached it.

  After some consideration, this plan was held feasible, and Sir Thomas Wyat undertook the command of the boat. A dark night being indispensable for the enterprise, the third from that time, when there would be no moon, was chosen; and this arrangement was communicated by the dwarf to Courtenay. Measures were then concerted between the Earl and his assistant, and all being settled, it was agreed, to avoid needless risk, that the latter should not return again till the appointed night.

  On its arrival, Xit, as soon as it grew dark, crept though the loophole, and found the Earl impatiently expecting him. He was alone, for since his removal to so strong a prison it was deemed needless to have an attendant constantly with him. Xit brought him a rapier and dagger, and a long coil of rope, and when he had armed himself with the weapons, they proceeded to the execution of their project. Knocking at the door, the Earl summoned the warder who was stationed outside. The man immediately obeyed the call, and as he opened the door Xit crept behind it, and while Courtenay engaged the warder’s attention, he slipped out, and concealed himself behind a projection in the winding stairs. The Earl having made a demand which he knew would compel the warder to proceed to Sir Henry Bedingfeld, dismissed him.

  Quitting the cell, the warder, who had no suspicions, locked the door, leaving the key — as had been foreseen — within it. He then ascended the stairs, and passed close to Xit without perceiving him. As soon as he was gone, the dwarf unlocked the door, and made good his own retreat through the loophole, it being necessary he should give the signal to the party on the river.

  Courtenay then hurried up the winding steps. On reaching the upper chamber, he perceived it was vacant, but the open door showed him that the warder had just passed through it. Hastily shutting it, and barring it withinside, he mounted a short flight of steps leading to the roof, where he knew a sentinel who had charge of the alarm-bell was stationed. Before the man, who was leaning upon his partisan, could utter an exclamation, Courtenay snatched the weapon from him, and dealt him a blow that stretched him senseless at his feet. He then quickly fastened the rope to one of the stout wooden supporters of the belfry, and flinging the coil over the battlements, prepared to descend by it.

  Possessed of great strength and activity, and materially aided by the roughened surface of the old walls, and other irregularities in the structure, against which he placed his feet, the Earl reached the ground in safety. He was now in the outer ward, near the By-ward Tower. It was so dark that his descent had not been noticed, but he perceived several soldiers passing at a little distance from him, from whose remarks he gathered that they were about to convey the keys of the fortress to the lieutenant.

  As soon as they had passed him, he rushed across the ward in the direction of the arched passage leading to the drawbridge. Here he encountered Og, who was on guard at the time. The gigantic warder immediately challenged him, and presented his huge halbert at his breast. But the Earl, without making any reply, stooped down, and before he could be prevented, darted through his legs. Og, in a voice of thunder, gave the alarm, and was instantly answered by a party of halberdiers, who rushed out of the adjoining guard-room. They were all armed, some with pikes, some with arquebuses, and snatching a torch from the soldier nearest him, Og darted after the fugitive.

  By this time the Earl’s flight from the Bell Tower had been discovered. On his return, finding the door barred withinside, the warder suspected something wrong, and gave the alarm. A few seconds sufficed to the men-at-arms to break down the door with their bills, and they then found what had occurred. The alarm-bell was instantly rung, and word passed to the sentinels on the By-ward Tower, and on the other fortifications, that the Earl of Devonshire had escaped. In an instant all was in motion. Torches gleamed along the whole line of ramparts; shouts were heard in every direction; and soldiers hastened to each point whence it was conceived likely he would attempt to break forth.

  Before relating the result of the attempt, it may be proper to advert to what had been done in furtherance of it by Xit. Having got through the loophole, as before related, the dwarf pursued the course subsequently taken by Courtenay, made a hasty excuse to Og, and crossed the drawbridge just before it was raised. Approaching the side of the river, he drew a petronel, and flashing it, the signal was immediately answered by the sound of muffled oars; and Xit, whose gaze was steadfastly bent upon the stream, could just detect a boat approaching the strand. The next moment, Sir Thomas Wyat sprang ashore, and as Xit was explaining to him in a whisper what had occurred, the alarm was given as above related.

  It was a moment of intense interest to all concerned in the enterprise, and Wyat held himself in readiness for action. On reaching the drawbridge and finding it raised, Courtenay without hesitation bounded over the rails, and plunging into the moat, struck out towards the opposite bank. At this juncture, Og and his companions arrived at the outlet. The giant held his torch over the moat, and perceived the Earl swimming across it. A soldier beside him levelled his arquebuse at the fugitive, and would have fired, but Og checked him, crying, “Beware how you harm the Queen’s favorite. It is the Earl of Devonshire. Seize him, but injure him not — or dread her Majesty’s displeasure.”

  The caution, however, was unheeded by those on the summit of the By-ward Tower. Shots were fired from it, and the balls speckled the surface of the water, but without doing any damage. One of Wyat’s crew hastened to the edge of the moat, and throwing a short line into the water, assisted the Earl to land.

  While this was passing, the drawbridge was lowered, and Og and his companions rushed across it — too late, however, to secure the fugitive. As soon as Courtenay had gained a footing on the wharf, Sir Thomas Wyat seized his hand, and hurried him towards the boat, into which they leaped. The oars were then plunged into the water, and before their pursuers gained the bank, the skiff had shot to some distance from it. Another boat was instantly manned and gave chase, but without effect. The obscurity favored the fugitives. Wyat directed his men to pull towards London Bridge, and they soon disappeared beneath its narrow arches.

  CHAPTER XIX.

  HOW QUEEN MARY VISITED THE LIONS’ TOWER; HOW MAGOG GAVE HIS DAME A LESSON; AND HOW XIT CONQUERED A MONKEY, AND WAS WORSTED BY A BEAR.

  COURTENAY’S escape from the Tower created almost as much sensation as his imprisonment had done; and while his partisans were cheered by it, his enemies were proportionately discouraged. Several bands of soldiers, headed by trusty leaders, were sent in pursuit of him in different directions; but no trace could be discovered of the course he had taken; nor could all the vigilance of Sir Henry Bedingfeld detect who had assisted him in his flight. After some time, as no tidings were heard of him, it was concluded he had embarked for France. Inspired by jealousy, Mary im
mediately sent an order to Ashbridge to double the guard over her sister; and she secretly instructed Sir Edward Hastings, in case of any attempt to set her free, to convey her instantly to the Tower. Elizabeth either was severely indisposed, or feigned to be so, and it was bruited abroad that poison had been given her. This rumor, which obtained general credence, as well as others to the effect that her life had been attempted by different means, at length reached the Queen’s ears, and occasioned her great distress and annoyance. To remove the suspicion, she commanded Elizabeth’s appearance at court. And though the Princess would fain have refused, she was compelled to obey.

  Some weeks had now elapsed since Courtenay’s flight, and during that time the Queen’s anger had so much abated, that Gardiner thought he might venture to solicit his pardon. Representing to her that she had already punished him sufficiently by the disgrace she had inflicted upon him, and that it was desirable to give no pretext for tumult during the momentous discussions which would take place on the meeting of parliament — then immediately about to be assembled — he urged his suit so warmly, that in the end Mary consented to pardon the Earl, provided he appeared at court within three days.

  Intelligence of the Queen’s change of feeling was soon conveyed to Courtenay, who had been concealed in an obscure lodging in London, and on the second day he presented himself before her. Mary received him graciously but coldly, and in such a manner as to convince him and his friends, if they still indulged any such hopes, that a restoration to the place he had once held in her affections was out of the question.