On this spot a strong stake was driven deeply into the ground, and at a little distance from it was piled a large stack of fagots. An iron ring was fixed to the centre of the stake, and to the ring was attached a broad iron girdle, destined to encircle the body of the victim.
As night set in, a large band of halberdiers marched into the green, and stationed themselves round the stake. Long before this, sombre groups had gathered together at various points, and eyed the proceedings in moody silence. None of the curiosity—none of the excitement ordinarily manifested upon such occasions—was now exhibited. Underhills crime had checked the strong tide of sympathy which would otherwise have run in his favour. Still, as he had been pardoned by the queen, and was condemned for his religious opinions only, deep commiseration was felt for him. It was not, however, for him that the assemblage looked grave, but for themselves. Most of them were of the Reformed faith, and they argued—and with reason,—that this was only the commencement of a season of trouble; and that the next victim might be one of their own family. With such sentiments, it is not to be wondered at, that they looked on sternly and suspiciously, and with the strongest disposition—though it was not manifested, otherwise than by looks—to interrupt the proceedings. As it grew dark, and faces could no longer be discerned, loud murmurings arose, and it was deemed expedient to double the guard, and to place in custody some of the most clamorous. By this means, all disposition to tumult was checked, and profound silence ensued. Meanwhile, numbers continued to flock thither, until, long before the appointed hour arrived, the whole area from the lieutenant’s lodgings to Saint Peters Chapel was densely thronged.
As the bell ceased tolling the hour of midnight, a lugubrious procession slowly issued from beneath the gloomy archway of the Coalharbour Gate. First came four yeomen of the guard walking two and two, and bearing banners of black silk, displaying large white crosses. Then twelve deacons in the same order, in robes of black silk and flat caps, each carrying a long lighted wax taper. Then a priest’s assistant, in a white surplice, with a red cross in front, bareheaded, and swinging a large bell heavily to and fro. Then two young priests, likewise bareheaded, and in white surplices, each holding a lighted taper in a massive silver candlestick. Then an old priest with the mitre. Then two chantry-priests in their robes singing the Miserere. Then four Carmelite monks, each with a large rosary hanging from his wrist, supporting a richly gilt square canopy, decorated at each corner with a sculptured cross, beneath which walked Bonner, in his scarlet chimere and white rochet. Then came Feckenham and other prelates, followed by two more chantry-priests singing the same doleful hymn as their predecessors. Then came a long train of halberdiers. Then the prisoner, clothed in sackcloth and bare-footed, walking between two friars of the lowly order of Saint Francis, who besought him, in piteous tones, to repent ere it was too late. And lastly, the rear was brought up by a company of archers of the queen’s body guard.
As soon as the procession had formed in the order it arrived round the place of execution, the prisoner was brought forward by the two friars, who for the last time earnestly exhorted him to recant, and save his soul alive. But he pushed them from him, saying, “Get hence ye popish wolves! ye raveners of Christ’s faithful flock! Back to the idolatrous Antichrist of Rome who sent ye hither. I will have none of your detestable doctrines. Get hence, I say, and trouble me no more.”
When the friars drew back, he would have addressed the assemblage. But a halberdier, by Bonner’s command, thrust a pike into his mouth and silenced him. A wild and uncouth figure, with strong but clumsily-formed limbs, coarse repulsive features, lighted up by a savage smile, now stepped forward. It was Wolfytt, the sworn tormentor. He was attired in a jerkin and hose of tawny leather. His arms and chest were bare, and covered with a thick pile of red hair. His ragged locks and beard, of the same disgusting colour, added to his hideous and revolting appearance. He was armed with a long iron pitchfork, and had a large hammer and a pair of pincers stuck in his girdle. Behind him came Mauger and Nightgall.
A deep and awful silence now prevailed throughout the concourse. Not a breath was drawn, and every eye was bent upon the victim. He was seized and stripped by Mauger and Wolfytt, the latter of whom dragged him to the stake, which the poor zealot reverently kissed as he reached it, placed the iron girdle round his waist, and riveted it to the post. In this position, Underhill cried with a loud voice, “God preserve Queen Jane! and speedily restore her to the throne, that she may deliver this unhappy realm from the popish idolaters who would utterly subvert it.”
Several voices cried “Amen!” and Wolfytt, who was nailing the girdle at the time, commanded him to keep silence, and enforced the order by striking him a severe blow on the temples with the hammer.