Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century

returned to prison. He did take it very quietly andpatiently; and when Mr. Congleton expressed a hope he might soon bereleased from prison, he smiled and said:

  "My good friend, my crosses are light and easy; and the being deprivedof all earthly comfort affords a heavenly joy, which maketh my prisonhappy, my confinement merciful, my solitude full of blessings. To God,therefore, be all praise, honor, and glory, for so unspeakable abenefit bestowed upon his poor, wretched, and unworthy servant."

  So did he comfort those who were more grieved for him than he forhimself; and each in turn we did confess; and after I had disburdenedmy conscience in such wise that he perceived the temper of my mind,and where to apply remedies to the dangers the nature of which hisclearsightedness did foresee, he thus addressed me:

  "The world, my dear daughter, soon begins to seem insipid, and all itspleasures grow bitter as gall; all the fine shows and delights itaffords appear empty and good for nothing to such as have tasted thehappiness of conversing with Christ, though it be amidst torments andtribulations, yea and in the near approach of death itself. This joyso penetrates the soul, so elevates the spirit, so changes theaffections, that a prison seems not a prison but a paradise, death agoal long time desired, and the torments which do accompany it jewelsof great price. Take with thee these words, which be the greatesttreasure and the rarest lesson for these times: 'He that loveth hislife in this world shall lose it, and he that hateth it shall findit;' and remember the devil is always upon the watch. Be you alsowatchful. Pray you for me. I have a great confidence that we shall seeone another in heaven, if you keep inviolable the word you have givento God to be true to his Catholic Church and obedient to its precepts,and he gives me the grace to attain unto that same blessed end."

  These words, like the sower's seed, fell into a field where thornsoftentimes threatened to choke their effect; but persecution, when itarose, consumed the thorns as with fire, and the plant, which wouldhave withered in stony ground, bore fruit in a prepared soil.

  As we left the prison, it did happen that, passing by the gaoler'slodge, I saw him sitting at a table drinking ale with one whose backwas to the door. A suspicion came over me, the most unlikely in theworld, for it was against all credibility, and I had not seen so muchas that person's face; but in the shape of his head and the manner of his sitting, but for a moment observed, there was a resemblanceto Edmund Genings, the thought of which I could not shake off. When wewere walking home, Mr. Congleton said Mr. Hart had told him that ashort time back a gentleman had been seized, and committed to closeconfinement, whom he believed, though he had not attained to thecertainty thereof, to be Mr. Willisden; and if it were so, that muchtrouble might ensue to many recusants, by reason of that gentlemanhaving dealt in matters of great importance to such persons touchinglands and other affairs whereby their fortunes and maybe their livesmight be compromised. On hearing of this, I straightway conceived asudden fear lest it should be my father and not Mr. Willisden wasconfined in that prison; and the impression I had received touchingthe youth who was at table with the gaoler grew so strong inconsequence, that all sorts of fears founded thereon ran through mymind, for I had often heard how persons did deceive recusants byfeigning themselves to be their friends, and then did denounce them tothe council, and procured their arrest and oftentimes theircondemnation by distorting and false swearing touching the speech theyheld with them. One Eliot in particular, who was a man of greatmodesty and ingenuity of countenance, so as to defy suspicion (but avery wicked man in more ways than one, as has been since proved), whopretended to be Catholic, and when he did suspect any to be a Jesuit,or a seminary priest, or only a recusant, he would straightway enterinto discourse with him, and in an artful manner cause him to betrayhimself; whereupon he was not slow to throw off the mask, wherebyseveral had been already brought to the rope. And albeit I would notcredit that Edmund should be such a one, the evil of the times was sogreat that my heart did misgive me concerning him, if indeed he wasthe youth whom I had espied on such familiar terms with that ruffianlygaoler. I had no rest for some days, lacking the means to discover thetruth of that suspicion; for Mrs. Ward, to whom I did impart it, darednot adventure again that week to the Marshalsea, by reason of thegaoler's wife having charged her not to come frequently, for that herhusband had suddenly suspected her to be a recusant, and would by nomeans allow of her visits to the prisoners; but that when he was drunkshe could sometimes herself get his keys and let her in, but not toooften. Mr. Congleton would have it the prisoner must be Mr. Willisdenand no other, and took no heed of my fears, which he said had noreasonable grounds, as I had not so much as seen the features of theyouth I took to be my father's page. But I could by no means besatisfied, and wept very much; and I mind me how, in the midst of mytears that evening, my eyes fell on the frontispiece of a volume ofthe _Morte d' Arthur_ which had been loosened when the book was in mychamber, and in which was picture of Sir Launcelot, the present mirrorof my fancy. I had pinned it to my curtain, and jewelled it as atreasure and fund of foolish musings, even after yielding up, withpromise to read no more therein, the book which had once held it. Andthus were kept alive the fantastic imaginings wherewith I clothed acreature conceived in a writer's brain, whose nobility was theoffspring of his thoughts and the continual entertainment of mine own.But, oh, how just did I now find the words of a virtuous friend, andhow childish my folly, when the true sharp edge of present feardispersed these vapory clouds, even as the keen blast of a north winddoth drive away a noxious mist! The sight of the dismal dungeon thatday visited, the pallid features of that true confessor thereinimmured, his soul-piercing words, and the apprehensions which werewringing my heart--banished of a sudden an idle dream engendered byvain readings and vainer musings, and Sir Launcelot held henceforwardno higher, or not so high, a place in my esteem as the good SirGuy of Warwick, or the brave Hector de Valence.

  A day or two after, my Lady Surrey sent her coach for me; and I foundher in her dressing-room seated on a couch with her waiting-women andMistress Milicent around her, who were displaying a great store ofrich suits and jewels and such-like gear drawn from wardrobes andclosets, the doors of which were thrown open, and little Mistress Besswas on tiptoe on a stool afore a mirror with a diamond necklace on,ribbons flaring about her head, and a fan of ostrich-feathers in herhand.

  "Ah, sweet one," said my lady, when I came in, "thou must needs besurprised at this show of bravery, which ill consorts with themourning of our present garb or the grief of our hearts; but, i'faith, Constance, strange things do come to pass, and such as I wouldfain hinder if I could."

  "Make ready thine ears for great news, good Constance," cried Bess,running toward me encumbered with her finery, and tumbling over sundrypieces of head-gear in her way, to the waiting-woman's no smalldiscomfiture. "The queen's majesty doth visit upon next Sunday theEarl and Countess of Surrey; and as her highness cannot endure thesight of dool, they and their household must needs put it off andarray themselves in their costliest suits; and Nan is to put on herchoicest jewels, and my Lady Bess must be grand too, to salute thequeen."

  "Hush, Bessy," said my lady; and leading me into the adjoiningchamber, "'tis hard," quoth she, holding my hand in hers,--"'tis hardwhen his grace is in the Tower and in disgrace with her majesty, andonly six weeks since our Moll died, that she must needs visit thishouse, where there be none to entertain her highness but his grace'spoor children; 'tis hard, Constance, to be constrained to kiss thehand which threatens his life who gave my lord his, and mostly tosmile at the queen's jesting, which my Lord Arundel saith we must ofall things take heed to observe, for that she as little can enduredool in the face as in the dress."

  A few tears fell from those sweet eyes upon my hand, which she stillheld, and I said, "Comfort you, my sweet lady. It must needs be thather majesty doth intend favor to his grace through this visit. Herhighness would never be minded to do so much honor to the children ifshe did not purpose mercy to the father."

  "I would fain believe it were so," said the counte
ss, thoughtfully;"but my Lord Arundel and my Lady Lumley hold not, I fear, the sameopinion. And I do hear from them that his grace is much troubledthereat, and hath written to the Earl of Leicester and my LordBurleigh to lament the queen's determination to visit his son, who isnot of age to receive her." [Footnote 1]

  [Footnote 1: Calendar of State Papers, Domestic Series, 1547 to 1580: "Duke of Norfolk to the Earl of Leicester and Lord Burleigh; laments the queen's determination to visit his son's house, who is not of age to receive her."]

  "And doth my Lord of Surrey take the matter to heart?"

  "My lord's disposition doth incline him to conceive hope where otherssee reason to fear," she replied. "He saith he is glad her majestyshould come to this