On Monday we were heartened, and doubtless Wyat was disheartened, by the Bruit of Lord Abergavenny's marching upon him from Blackheath with three Thousand Men. Thereon ensewed Diversity of Councils, in the End whereof, Master Wyat decided to march along the Thames next Day, to get Access to Middlesex by Kingston Bridge. One of the Lieutenant's Men of the Tower being despatched on special Charge across to the Bishop of Winchester's Palace, a Waterman of the Tower Stairs prayed him for a Cast in his Boat, which he granted. Seven of Wyat's Men being on the Look-out, levelled their Arquebusses at the Boat, charging them to re-land, which they not complying with, the Men discharged their Pieces with mortal Effect; for the poor Waterman fell dead, and the Sculler with much Terror rowed back, through the Bridge, to the Tower Wharf. The Lieutenant, in a mighty Heat at what had happened, levelled seven great Pieces of Ordnance full against the south End of the Bridge and against Southwark, besides all the Guns on the White Tower, and over the Watergate, so that the Men and Women dwelling in Southwark rushed confusedly to Master Wyat, and prayed him to take Pity on them, or they should be utterly undone and destroyed. Whereat, he, partly abashed, said, "I pray you, Friends, have Patience a little, and I will presently relieve you of your Fears." And so, gave Orders to march; and cleared out of Southwark about eleven of the Clock on Shrove Tuesday, without leaving a Penny unpaid to the Inhabitants, or doing the least Damage beyond sacking and destroying the Bishop of Winchester's Palace and Library. Thus ended our three Days' Beleaguerment. Now, leaving the Bridge in sufficient Guard, Master Hewet's Post lay at one of the City Gates: and a general Muster in St. James's Field was proclaimed for Six o' the Clock next Morning.
At four o' Clock, however, the Drums called to Arms, Wyat having crossed at Kingston and being already at Brentford. The Law-Serjeants went to Westminster Hall, that Morning, with Harness under their Gowns, and the Queen's Chaplain sung Mass before her with Harness under his Vestments. By ten o' the Clock my Lord Pembroke's Troop of Horse hovered about Wyat's Party, and Ordnance began to be fired on both Sides; whereon the Screams of Women and peaceable People at Charing Cross, as well as the Firing, could be heard at the Tower. Wyat drove back my Lord Chamberlain's Guard, and marched on to Ludgate in disorderly Array. There he knocked at the Gate; and my Lord Howard from within asked who knocked: and on his giving his Name, cried, "Avaunt, Traitor! thou enterest not here." Sundry of his Men cried, "Queen Mary hath granted our Request, and given us Pardon!" but 'twas known for a Feint; so they had Nought for it but to return whence they came; and at Charing Cross the Fight was renewed and waxed hot. At length, a Herald called on Wyat to yield rather than shed more Blood, and trust to the Queen's Mercy. Whereon, he, astonied and dejected, replied, "Well, if I must, let me yield me to a Gentleman." Sir Morrice Berkeley bade him leap up behind him; and two others picked up young Cobham and Knevet, and so carried them off, and the Fight was ended. They lay, that Night, in the Tower.
There was Somewhat mighty kindling, Hew, in that Defence of the Bridge: and we all felt triumphant and thankful when the Fight was over; but thereafter came great Gravity and Sadness, to muse on what might have been, and on what would shortly befal those Men in the Tower. A grievouse Thing is a Civil War.
Then Master Hewet,—ah! what a Shrievalty was his! but yet he thanked God in After-time that it fell not a Year or two later—he must be present at the beheading the poor guiltless Boy Guilford Dudley, and also of the Lady Jane. That same Day, Hew, there was set up a Gallows at every Gate in London, and at the Bridge-foot; three or four at Charing Cross and in many other Places. About four hundred Rebels were condemned in one Day. The Prisons were so o'er-crowded that they were kept in Ward in Churches. The Lady Elizabeth was committed to the Tower; daily, new State Prisoners went in, and they that came forth, 'twas but to their Scaffolds. Suffolk, Wyat, the Greys—'twas an awful Time to be Sheriff! There were City Feasts; but Men met to look one another in the Face and ask what would come next, rather than for Potacion and Refection.
CHAPTER IX
Osborne is out of his Time
I was out of my Time; and was examined by the Master and Wardens of our Company whether I had duly and faithfully served my Apprenticeship: and being found sufficient and allowed, was presented to the Chamberlain of London to be made free; was sworn, and paid Two-and-sixpence.
I remember one of the Wardens eyed me rather curiously when I went up; and said, "So thou art young Osborne?" "Yea," quod the other, "the Knight of the Flying Leap!" an old Joke I thought every one had forgotten. Howbeit they shook Hands with me, and said they wished every Master as good a 'Prentice.
Thereafter I went to see Tomkins, whom I had lost Sight of a long Time. His Wife was spreading a clean Diaper over the Table, his little Girl playing with a Kitten on the Hearth, and a straggling Sunbeam through the Lattice was lighting up his pale, placid Face as he sate at his Loom. I have thought since, that ministering Spirits might have been passing to and fro on that Beam, unperceivable to my mortal Sense.