LONDON 'PRENTICES. A ROMANCE OF THE DAYS OF BLUFF KING HAL. BY JOHN TILLOTSON, Author of "Stories of the War," "Crimson Pages," "Shot and Shell," "London Stone," etc., etc. CHAPTER XIV. NEWGATE. The Tower of London. WEEPING forward with irresistible force, the London 'Prentices, servingmen, and a formidable addition of what we should now call "the roughs" from the Borough and Whitefriars, made haste to Newgate, where a few of their number lay immured. Master Studeley and some of his companions had got into a brawl with a city magnate, and had by the town-guard been packed off to gaol, wherefrom it was not improbable they might be taken to the place of punishment-pilloried, set in the stocks, or mayhap, whipped at the cart's tail from Leadenhall to Ludgate. The dignity of a city alderman was no light matter in those days; and it is recorded that a Lord Mayor once upon a time hanged up several fishmongers for insulting him in the public way. IV. Poor Studeley was certainly in sorry plight, and his mates were anxious to put an end to his captivity. When they came to the gaol, they raised a shout that woke up all the neighbourhood, and scared the very birds from their nests, As the gaolers sturdily refused to open the doors, it was resolved to force an entrance. Wat Tyler's fellows had done the same in King Richard's time. "On, my worshipful companions! on, my valiant 'Prentices!" was shouted by a conspicuous 'Prentice, dressed out in Sunday best. "To the postern! to the postern!" shouted the mob. "Down with the French, Lombards, and Spaniards." And on went the fierce and terrible human flood; hammers and axes resounded on the door, blow followed blow in quick succession, 10 * and oaths and cries arose; whilst Dr. Bell, | and down it came again: the postern fell raising himself on a huge mounting-block, beneath the blow. harangued the concourse-much to his personal satisfaction. Loud and terrible was the din occasioned by the attack on the postern, which remained firm, barring their progress. When the confusion was at its highest, a dark figure was observed striving to unloose the bars that caged its prison window. 66 Studeley, Studeley!" shouted the mob. It was in truth that valiant gentleman. Again the sounds resounded on the postern, but all remained the same. A shower of stones were hurled at the few glazed windows at the east. At that instant one of the iron bars of Studeley's prison was loosened by his efforts, and down it came dashing against the various projections of the building. This feat was recognized by the 'Prentices by a lusty shout; and a general demand for ladders was now made. They were soon produced, and raised to the opening, but ununluckily were too short to reach the spot desired. "Down with the postern!" cried Sherring; and the slaughterman echoed his words with a fearful oath, to make the remark more forcible. But to say is easier than to do, and so the rioters found it. A party of carbineers was now seen hastily to advance across the leads, and level their pieces. The volley rang in the ears of the multitude, and many a valiant 'Prentice bit the ground. Down went the Doctor, and down too went John Lincoln. Their sudden overthrow was occasioned by a movement of the crowd, for at that instant the scouts despatched to reconnoitre returned with the intelligence that the alarm was given, and the troops would soon be there. A terrible yell of exultation was raised by the mob in honour of the deed, and a loud, yet certainly rather discordant, fanfare was blown through a score of bullocks' horns ; butchers struck their cleavers furiously together; and 'Prentices assailed their bucklers with unnecessary violence: whilst those who possessed no other means to testify their joy, shrieked and yelled, waving their lighted brands aloft; and on they rushed, like demons, into the wide hall and up the narrow winding stair, tumbling one over another. Meeting with no opposition to their progress, breaking open every door until they came to Studeley, a very heavy blow sufficed to set him free, and out he rushed with three or more valiant cits. But it was now time to escape, for the halbert men would soon be there. Once more they assembled in the open air before the prison. "Let's fire the gaol!" cried the butcher. “To the Tun-to the Tun!” shouted another. "To the Compter!" cried a third. "St. Martin's-le-Grand!" was proposed by a fourth. Another the "Steel-yard!" but the voice of the smith was heard above them all. "To the house of Mutas!" he cried. "Hillie hoop, hillo !" shouted the mob; and on they rushed, leaving Newgate for a future destruction, and illuminated the houses by the red light of the cressets, and causing the foreigners to tremble at the sound of their approach. CHAPTER XV. MUTAS. WHEN the rioters arrived at Paul's Cross they divided into three companies: the first of them hied them to the "Tun," to liberate those who had been arrested at the Spital Sermon; the second took the way to the Steel-yard; while the third and largest concourse proceeded down the Westchepe towards the City granaries. "Haste, haste!" cried Sherring; "hammer away, my lads!" Merrily rang the blows in answer to his words. "Give way, give way!" he cried, and spurred his horse amidst the crowd; then high in the air he raised his sledge, and down it came: the postern shook beneath the blow. "A Sher- The trembling citizens opened their case. ring! a Sherring!" shouted the 'Prentices.ments as the vast multitude swept by, yelling "Down with Flemings, Lombards, and and shouting, bearing their lighted cressets Spaniards!" Again the sledge was raised, aloft. Clashing Brownbills, halberts, knives, swords, axes, and crowbars, down the Cheap they pressed, with its closed shops and stalls, its overhanging stories, creaking signs, gables, and twisted chimneys. Some few of the multitude halted at a place near Bow Church; but the rest continued their course towards the house of Mutas. A warning yell was raised when they came within view of the building. "On, on!" shouted Nick: "the alarm hath long been given, and Master Denis and his hackbut men will soon be here." "Master Denis!" echoed the slaughter man. "He'd flee at the sight of a cleaver or Brownbill. But on, valiant 'Prentices! I long to visit within those walls the worshipful Maitre Mutas." The crowds acquiesced by a shout of triumph, and they halted in hostile array before the devoted pile. The windows were open in the upper story, which overhung the street, and at them appeared Colner, Mutas, Scrivener, and the Verger: little suspecting the favour intended them, they seemed surprised when the multitude halted. Loudly Nick shouted, commanding them to submit; and as they still lingered by the casement in much astonishment, a shot was discharged from a carbine, in order to revive their faculties. A hasty retreat on the part of the besieged was the immediate consequence. A shower of stones was hurled at the windows as the rioters prepared for the attack, and then a score of stalwart men stepped to the portal, and raised their weapons to destroy it. Some pulled down the shutters; others raised ladders; whilst a few, under the direction of a mason, commenced a breach in the wall; and one, over-zealous in the cause, cast a lighted brand into the chamber above. Admission would soon have been gained by their united efforts, had not the clatter of boots attracted their attention. "Quick, quick!" cried Studeley; "the trained bands are up, and we'll have sharp work anon." Again they raised a frantic yell, and clashed their cleavers furiously together. The sound of the approaching troop grew nearer and more near, and a company of the trained bands soon appeared. "Liberty-liberty!" shouted the mob. "Down with the French, Lombard, and Spaniard! Down!" The slaughterman uttered a fierce oath, and spurred his horse towards the captain; high aloft he raised his cleaver, and felled him to the earth. "St. Antholin !" shouted a trooper, "this is indeed rank treason;" and levelling his piece, he fired amidst the mob: his example was followed by his companions, and several of the rioters fell. Vengeance, vengeance! slice, slice!" cried the enraged multitude. "Sherring, Sherring! Studeley, Studeley! and on they rushed. Again a few shots were fired by the soldiers, and were returned with oaths and execrations by the mob, who immediately fell upon them, dragging them from their horses to the ground. "Forbear!" cried Sherring; "let the rascals depart; we've better work before us now." "Kill the rogues!" shrieked Studeley; and raising his broadsword, he inflicted a heavy blow on the steel casque of a fallen trooper: again he raised it, but his arm was stayed by Nick: "Forbear, rash fool!" he said; "the halbert men will be down anon; the time is precious. Mutas has riches the pope might covet, and all will be lost if we are not quick; let the men go. Now, my lads," he cried to the crowd, "down with the door, and help yourselves to the dainties stored within." constructed in the thickness of the wall, so that it would for a considerable period, if not entirely, baffle pursuit. Colner was the last that entered, and he alone it was that quailed not at the yells of the mob without. The room was of small dimensions, secured by bolts and chains, and defended by a strong barrier of iron, after the fashion of a portcullis; a trap, moreover, led out upon the roof, which, communicating with the adjoining dwellings, afforded means of escape. "Now we are safe from danger," cried Scrivener, as he locked and double-locked the door. "But my gold!" shrieked Mutas, "my gold! 'Tis in the lower chambers, and all will be lost!" "Nay," quoth the Verger, with philosophical calmness, for he had no gold to lose, "repine not for the yellow dross; consider the peril we have escaped of being butchered by the raging multitude, and be thankful." "What is life without gold ?" cried Mutas. "What should I be but a despised wreck if it was not for my gold ?" At that instant a shout of triumph was raised by the mob, then suddenly all was quiet; then came the tramp of many feet; then it again was hushed. A crash succeeded, followed by the rush of many feet and clashing weapons, for the rioters had entered the dwelling. "let the gallows'-birds be roasted in their nests, and basted with rials and broad pieces." Scarce had he offered this gentle suggestion ere the objects of it had gained the roof, and were gazing cautiously down into the street. A vast multitude of human heads occupied the space before the dwelling, wild and furious, armed to the teeth-a formidable array. Secreting themselves on the roof of a neighbouring house, Mutas and his friends awaited the result. In a short time the devouring flames burst forth from every window; a bright, ruddy glare illuminated the scene, exhibiting in the strong light the beautiful architecture of the church, and the lofty shaft decked for the morrow's festival. Thick volumes of smoke arose, then came a dreadful crash, a bright and spiral flame leapt into the air. CHAPTER XVI. MICHAEL DE LA POLE. THE house of Michael de la Pole, though situated in Eastchepe, was yet a noble structure, with a court-yard, porter's lodge, and gate towards the street, flanked by towers. bands. Now the worshipful occupier of these premises being considered of great importance, a body of carbineers and mounted arquebusiers were despatched to the build"Butcher the dogs!" cried one. "Downing at the first assembling of the city trained with the locusts!" shouted another. "Here's gold enow for all!" cried a third. "Mass, I'll slit their throats for them!" roared the slaughterman. "Kill the rogues!" "Down-down with the Flemings, Lombards, and Spaniards-down with the rats! Butcher the thieves-on, on!" "Follow, follow!" shrieked Studeley; "I'll show you where the knaves have hid!" and he led the way up the broad oaken stairs, followed by the mob. The heavy tramp of feet drew nearer and more near, and then the blows from axes and hammers resounded on the door: it soon gave way, but the iron curtain still remained. "Fire the house!" roared the butcher; On their way thither they encountered the Spanish knight, returning in haste from the banquet at the house of Sir Henry Keble, and taking the command of the party, he returned to his mansion in the Eastcheap. The arquebusiers were placed so as to surround the building; the carbineers were drawn out in the court-yard with two ponderous calivers; whilst every window, loophole, and opening of every kind were defended by the domestics, and some few Spanish soldiers who continued with their lord. Thus was the mansion defended, and the night passed on. Loud rang the alarm bells from every city church; the yells and shouts of the approaching throng were borne along upon the night wind; and thus it continued for near an hour, when the bright, clear flames devouring the house of Mutas vaulted upwards to the heavens, giving notice of the fearful deeds that might be expected. The tramp of many feet resounded in the Chepe soon after, and then the multitude was seen advancing: on they came, like some mighty flood released from its wonted bounds, carrying all before it. They halted not at the sight of the soldiers, but rushed tumultuously onwards. In an instant the arquebusiers had levelled their pieces, and fired. Several of the rioters fell, calling on their companions to revenge them; the horses reared and plunged; the mob of valiant 'Prentices yelled right lustily; and on they came in one vast struggling mass, with Sherring at their head. Again the soldiers fired, but this time without effect, and the rioters rushed on; the arquebusiers gave way before them, and with a cry of defiance they pressed forwards to the very gates of the building. The gates were strongly barricaded, and from every loophole in the flanking towers arquebuses, halberts, and carbines were presented, so that they must needs be valiant men who would dare to approach; yet on came the throng, right in the face of the sheet of flame, the places of those who fell being immediately filled by their compa nions. short period, merely the time consumed in crossing the court-yard and entering the mansion. The soldiers soon spread themselves through every part of the dwelling, busy with their work of plunder. Some rushed to the coffers, thirsting for gold; others to the wardrobes and armouries; others again to the cellars, so that no portion escaped their vigilant scrutiny. Suddenly a loud, wild shriek was heard proceeding from the vaults by those who searched below. They rushed tumultuously forwards to the spot whence came the sounds. A few heavy blows levelled the barrier to the earth, and he who lay within was free. But his liberators started, for a man of a wild and haggard appearance, yelling and shrieking, rushed forth. The rioters fell back on either side in terror at the sight. When the surprise of his sudden appearance had, in some degree, subsided, Nick Sherring planted himself in the stranger's path, and stayed his progress. "Body o' St. Benet!" he cried. "Ye cowardly knaves, would ye fly before a lunatic ?" and, gazing more intently on his features, he continued, "Mass! this is no other than the idiot, Erkinwald Aubrey." As he spoke, the singular-looking being that he called Aubrey bounded forward and flew wildly up the oaken stairs, through the long suite of rooms, Unheeding the plundering rioters, he pursued his way to the very roof of the mansion. There stood Sir Michael, surrounded by a band of Spanish soldiery. Aubrey sprang forwards. "Ah, murderer! have I found thee?" he cried. Yet, in an instant, Michael turned, and seizing the idiot firmly, he attempted to hurl him from the battlements. Aubrey, however, clung firmly to some projecting ornaments. At that instant a small company of armed men dashed into the court-yard, with Ambrose Quartermain at their head. Yet, whilst he passed beneath the gateway, a rioter sprang forward, and placing a paper in his hands, was again lost amidst the throng. The excitement of the moment prevented him from examining its contents, and placing it |