Cardinal Pole; Or, The Days of Philip and Mary: An Historical Romance

by William Harrison Ainsworth

Throughout this time of trial, Carver’s resolution had never deserted him—had never even wavered. The prison chamber to which he had been removed was a great improvement upon the dismal dungeon wherein he had been previously immured. In fact, as his movements were not restrained, and he was allowed writing materials, with a Bible and a book of prayer, he was well enough content with his lodging. To the mementoes of the many sufferers for conscience’ sake who had preceded him in this cell, and had carved their names on the stout oak panels lining the walls, he added his own name, with these words: “Approved by stripes, imprisonment, and death.”

His cell was by no means gloomy. Through the narrow grated window looking upon the Thames, and at which Osbert had conversed with Constance, he obtained a glimpse of the river, and of some structures on its opposite banks, while he could hear the dash of oars in the water, and the cheerful voices of the boatmen. But the stern enthusiast bestowed but little thought on the external world. His time was now entirely occupied in preparation for eternity, and in fortifying himself for the fiery ordeal by which his faith was to be approved.

On several occasions, as we have already stated, he had been interrogated by Bonner, but neither promises of grace, nor threats of torture, could move him. He resolutely refused to subscribe the recantation proffered him by the bishop; and when the latter, exasperated by his obstinacy, had him taken to the Post Room, stripped to the girdle, tied to the wooden pillar in the centre of the chamber, and severely scourged, he uttered no cry, but persisted in his refusal.

Determined to try the effect of greater severity, and having means and appliances at hand, Bonner ordered him to be chained to the walls of his cell till he should show signs of submission.

This was done. The unfortunate captive was fastened to two of the ponderous iron rings which may still be seen in the walls of the prison, and kept in such a position that he could neither lie down nor stand erect.

In this woful plight he remained for three days and three nights, debarred of his chief solace, the Bible, and unable to kneel in prayer without putting himself to excruciating agony, but his constancy was unsubdued, and when Bonner again visited him, thinking he must needs be overcome, he found him unyielding as ever.

What further barbarities might have been practised by the savage prelate upon the unfortunate captive can only be imagined, but happily his victim was snatched from his clutches by Pole. Made aware how severely the prisoner had been treated, the Cardinal instantly interfered, caused the poor wretch’s chains to be taken off, and interdicted any further application of torture. Bonner sullenly acquiesced, as indeed he was obliged to do, but he promised himself to report the Cardinal’s culpable leniency—for such he esteemed it—to their Majesties, and also to the Pope.

“His Eminence is an abettor of heresy, instead of an uprooter of it,” muttered the bishop. “If he be not recalled by the Pope, he will undo all we have done.”

Not altogether satisfied with the report he had received of the prisoner’s condition, Pole resolved to visit him in his cell, and was accompanied in the errand of mercy by Priuli. The ascent of the narrow spiral stone staircase leading from the Post Room to the prison-chamber was somewhat painful to the Cardinal, and he was compelled to pause for a few moments to recover himself as he reached the arched entrance of the cell. This gave him an opportunity of examining the double doors, which we have already described as of oak, bound with iron, and studded with broad-headed nails; and he pointed out the immense thickness of the planks to Priuli.

Neither of them had been before in the upper part of the Lollards’ Tower, and, as they entered the prison-chamber, they looked around it with melancholy interest. The oak panels, dark almost as ebony, the black boarded roof, the black boarded floor, the small grated windows, the ponderous iron rings fastened in the walls, the prisoner seated on a stool at a table of similar material and similar hue to the panels, all constituted a picture that powerfully impressed them.