“Nay, better men than he have dealt with alcumistry,” answered Dr Thorpe. “The former charge moveth my laughter rather,—That my said Lord hath done things too much by himself: to wit, without the knowledge and sage avisement of these my Lords of the King’s Council. Is there so much as one of them that would not do the same an’ he had the chance?”
“Why,” said Avery, “he had the chance, and therein lieth his offence. They had not, and therein lieth their virtue.”
From two poor innocent lambs cruelly pent up by the Protector, now that he was himself in durance, there came a great outcry for relief. These were the imprisoned prelates, Bonner and Gardiner. The latter said that “he had been in prison one year and a quarter and a month; and he lacked air to relieve his body, and books to relieve his mind, and good company (the only solace of this world), and lastly, a just cause why he should have come thither at all.” How well can the wolf counterfeit the lamb! Had none of his prisoners lacked air, and books? And had my Lord Bishop of Winchester been so careful to see to a just cause in the case of every man he sent to Tower or Fleet?
On the 27th of January the leaders of the Devon riots were hanged at Tyburn; the chief of whom was Humphrey Arundel. And on the 6th of February the Duke of Somerset was delivered from the Tower, and suffered to go home; but four days before a change had been made in the Council, the Earls of Arundel and Southampton being dismissed and ordered to keep their houses in London during the King’s pleasure.
Mrs Rose and Thekla came several times to visit Isoult, and she returned the compliment. And one day in February came Philippa Basset, who was about to go into Cheshire, to visit her sister, Lady Bridget Carden, with whom she passed nearly a year before Isoult saw her again. Lady Bridget really was not her sister at all, she being Lord Lisle’s daughter, and Philippa Lady Lisle’s; but they had been educated as sisters, and as sisters they loved. Not long afterwards, Sir Francis Jobson resigned his office at the Tower, and went home to his own estate of Monkwich, in Essex. His wife was the Lady Elizabeth, sister of Lady Bridget; and with her Philippa had lived ever since she came to London. When she came back, therefore, she was forced to look out for another home, for she did not wish to follow them into Essex: and she went to her own youngest brother, Mr James Basset, who had a house in London.
All this while the Reformation was quietly progressing. On the 19th of April, Bishop Ridley came to Saint Paul’s Cathedral, in communion-time, and received the sacrament, together with Dr May, the Dean, and Dr Barne; both the Dean and the Bishop took the consecrated bread in their hands, instead of holding out the tongue, for the priest to put the wafer upon it. And before the Bishop would come into the choir, he commanded all the lights that were on the Lord’s Table to be put out. The Dean, who was a Lutheran, was well pleased at all this; but not so other men who were more kindly disposed towards Popery; and there was much murmuring and disputing.
At this time the Princess Mary was hanging between life and death at Kenninghall. We know now how all things had been changed had she died. But God could not spare her who was to be (however unwittingly or unwillingly) the purifier of His Church, to show which was the dross, and which the gold.
Some turmoil was also made concerning Joan Boucher, an Anabaptist girl who had been condemned for heresy, and was burned in Smithfield on the 2nd of May. The Papal party, ever ready to throw stones at the Protestants, cried that “the old burning days were come again,” and that Archbishop Cranmer was just as much a persecutor as Bishop Gardiner. They saw no difference between a solitary victim of the one (if Joan Boucher can be called so), and the other’s piles of martyrs. Isoult, rather puzzled about the question, referred it to her husband—the manner in which she usually ended her perplexities.
“Dear heart,” said he, “there be so few that can keep the mean. When men take God’s sword in hand, is it any wonder that they handle it ill?”
“But wouldst thou leave such ill fawtors unchastened, Jack?” exclaimed Dr Thorpe rather indignantly.