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FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
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FUESTON TOWER 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE EARLY DAYS 
 
 CARDINAL WOLSEY. 
 
 BY 
 
 THE REV. RICHARD COBBOLD, A.M., R.D. 
 
 RECTOR OF WORTHAM, &C. 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "MARGARET CATCHPOLE," " MARY ANN WELLINGTON," &C. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. IL 
 
 LONDON: 
 HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER, 
 
 GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 1850. 
 
LONDON: 
 
 Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street. 
 
fA3 
 
 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE FALL OF THE PALACE OF WYKES. 
 
 Terror was depicted in every counte- 
 nance as the draw-bridge, that mass of stone, 
 iron, wood, and brick work was seen to give 
 way, and divide with a crash, falling into the 
 waters of the deep moat which surrounded 
 the palace. Every inmate of that place who 
 could move, escaped before this catastrophe 
 took place ; and a motley group of terrified 
 faces stood looking upon the troubled 
 
 VOL. II. B 
 
2 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 waters, the yawning land, the falling walls, 
 as one after another of those massive pieces 
 of stone fell inwards upon the beautiful 
 tesselated pavements of the courts and 
 refectory, and cells, which had been so 
 kept by the Bishop's serving men. 
 
 It was as if an earthquake had suddenly 
 shaken the building to its foundation; but 
 it was nothing more than a sudden land- 
 slip, arising from the springs which let in 
 the banks of the moat, so as to lessen its 
 once formidable barrier into the appear- 
 ance of a ditch. This was not apparent 
 at this moment, for the waters were so 
 raised by the sudden ingress of the earth, 
 that for a time a flood spread itself over 
 both sides of these banks. It was only 
 when the excess of water had escaped down 
 the stream of the Holy Wells, into the 
 Orwell, that the barrier became less formid- 
 able. 
 
 The Bishop and his niece were not long 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 3 
 
 spectators of that terrible catastrophe. He 
 was apparently excited to consternation, and 
 shewed it by his hasty departure, with Alice 
 De Clinton, for GoldweU Hall. 
 
 Philanthropy moved in the heart of 
 De Freston, who, after confiding his daughter 
 to the care of Latimer, desired him to go at 
 once to the mansion of his relative and 
 friend, Antony Wingfield, then in treaty with 
 De Freston for the sale of those very 
 premises, which afterwards became his pro- 
 perty. The young Antony had then con- 
 signed his mansion in Brook Street and 
 his chapel of St. Mary's to the Lord 
 De Freston. This chapel was called, the 
 Lady Grey's chapel ; and was the spot in 
 which De Freston requested his daughter, 
 and such as liked to accompany her, to go 
 and return thanks for their deliverance. 
 Meantime a messenger was sent to Freston 
 Castle, for horses, and men, to convey his 
 daughter and her attendants home. 
 
 B 2 
 
4 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 iUice De Clinton did not wait even to 
 invite Ellen to accompany her to Goldwell 
 Hall. She would have died before she 
 would have condescended to show any 
 affection towards one whom she considered 
 as a favourer of heretics. Hence her 
 haughty departure with her less haughty 
 uncle, and such retainers as at such a time 
 were not too terrified to attend upon them. 
 
 De Freston, having disposed of his 
 daughter Ellen, turned his attention to the 
 state of those unhappy domestics of the 
 palace, who were then without house and 
 home ; and by his interest with the monks 
 of St. Peter's Priory, and other religious 
 houses, together with his more private 
 interest with numerous rich householders 
 in the borough, he got them all treated 
 in such a way, as to suppress their cries 
 of lamentation at the fall of Wykes' Bishop's 
 Palace. 
 
 Thousands of spectators soon collected 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 5 
 
 round the spot, upon the green hills in 
 the vicinity, to look upon the prostrate 
 ruins. The central pillars alone of that 
 proud building stood erect ; and every now 
 and then an alarm was given that they 
 were seen to totter. The expanse of waters 
 did not subside that night, so that the flood 
 had reached to the very foot of the hills, 
 in consequence of the main-buttress of 
 the draw-bridge having fallen, and choked 
 up the passage of the stream, where the 
 waters usually escaped to the Orwell. 
 
 Had any one been disposed to go over 
 to the ruins, they could not have done so 
 without a boat, and the only one belonging 
 to the gardener had been sunk by the 
 pressure of the falling boat house. There 
 was no fear, however, of any such intrusion. 
 Men who looked upon the sacred edifice 
 were too cautious to think of venturing 
 over the waters, lest they should be buried 
 under its walls. 
 
6 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 Conversation, however, was alive, and 
 superstition not less active among the people, 
 for many said they had seen the Hermit St. 
 Ivan hastening over the draw-bridge into the 
 castle, and many had heard him say that 
 when he did so the walls would fall down. 
 Some had dreamed one thing, some another. 
 Some prognosticated the fall of Bishop 
 Goldwell, and his proud niece. Some 
 had seen a strange thing fly up the chimney 
 the night before — and one had seen St. 
 Ivan riding upon a black cloud over the 
 hills to the river, and was sure some 
 catastrophe would befal him. Innumerable 
 ingenious speculations were started, and 
 as is very often the case in calamities of 
 any kind, it was attributed to all sorts of 
 causes. 
 
 " I will not believe," said butcher 
 Stannard, " that St. Ivan is dead, until 
 I know his cell is deserted ; so, who will 
 go with me to the Holy Wells? What, 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 7 
 
 none willing to go ? What a set of cowards 
 you all are !" 
 
 " I saw him go across the draw-bridge, 
 and I have heard him say, he should never 
 return alive !" 
 
 " And so have I," replied the butcher, 
 " and I have heard that he is now beneath 
 those ruins, and yet I have my doubts, 
 and if no one will go to the cave with me, 
 I will go alone." 
 
 The sturdy butcher started off for the 
 deep dell of the Holy Wells, followed at a 
 respectable distance by two or three of the 
 townsmen, whose curiosity had been excited : 
 but who gave him plenty of space to shew 
 his bravery by himself, not willing to inter- 
 rupt him, or interfere with his ascent to the 
 hermit's cell. A party stood at the foot of 
 the stone steps by which Stannard ascended 
 to the cave. He had indeed called aloud 
 to the old man before he ventured to 
 ascend, — but of course received no answer. 
 
8 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 He entered the cave — he found a rustic 
 table with a Latin Bible thereupon, a 
 lamp suspended from the ceiling, two 
 loaves of brown bread in a recess, and a 
 jug of water. 
 
 The cave was dry, and strewed with 
 rushes, his bed was formed of the same 
 material, placed upon a ledge of sandstone 
 rock, a few boxes of salves, and bottles 
 of medicine now ready to be given to the 
 poor ; but this strange habitation possessed no 
 pretensions to comforts. Yet here Ivan had 
 been for many years, the celebrated hermit of 
 the Holy Wells. 
 
 Butcher Stannard soon returned, con- 
 vinced, and convincing others that the old 
 man was only to be found under the 
 ruins of the Bishop's Palace. 
 
 Gorgeous tapestry might be seen floating 
 in the wind from the various broken down 
 compartments. The walls had mostly 
 fallen inwards, and the waters had rushed 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 9 
 
 into the court, and escaped through the 
 broken and other confined masses on the 
 other side. A more complete specimen 
 of ruin could not be seen: valuable pieces 
 of furniture, panels, and legs of tables, 
 were floated out of the ruins upon the moat, 
 and these were strictly preserved, as relics, 
 and carried to the various religious houses, 
 as mementos of the once flourishing palace of 
 the Bishops of Norwich, the first and the 
 last in the ancient town of Ipswich. What 
 a wretched sight did that palace now 
 afl'ord : but how much more calamitous 
 might it have been, had the festive hour 
 not been so suddenly interrupted by the 
 entrance of St. Ivan. It was better that 
 the palace should fall down, than that souls 
 should perish therein. 
 
 The site of the palace — the spot of the 
 Hermit's cell — the stream of the Holy Wells 
 are still to be seen, though now the square 
 plot of ground is an orchard belonging to 
 
 B 3 
 
10 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 the owner of Holy Wells, and the stream 
 which then flowed in a direct line to the river, 
 is now diverted, and forms magnificent fish 
 ponds. 
 
 Tradition still preserves the name of 
 the Hermit : and the monks of St. Peter, 
 after his decease, though they had been 
 jealous of his sanctity, raised a cross to 
 his memory, at the Holy Wells, which 
 went by the name of St. Ivan's Cross, 
 and became a place of pilgrimage for 
 saints and sinners, for two hundred years 
 afterwards. 
 
 Throughout the records of that day, 
 nothing is discoverable but the jarring 
 complaints of the Prior of St Peter's, and 
 his brethren, at the influence of the hermit 
 of the Holy Wells, who would not submit 
 to observe any of the rites and ceremonies 
 of the Church of Rome, without a restitution 
 of his lands, hereditaments, and rights 
 in Wykes Ufi'ord, and Whitton which 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 11 
 
 belonged to his ancestors, and descended 
 from them to himself. It is recorded 
 that he sued the Bishops of Norwich in 
 the ecclesiastical court of Canterbury, for 
 their usurpation of one moiety of that 
 property which belonged to him, and 
 his heirs, the whole of which had been 
 seized by the Church. Law was the most 
 expensive thing to be had in England in 
 that day, as it is in this. A flaw is to be 
 picked in almost every man's title to his 
 estate, through which lawyers gain an 
 entrance to the property — and there they 
 feed and fatten. Formerly Judges were 
 elected from ecclesiastical bodies, and their 
 amanuenses, generally clergymen, called 
 clerks, — they retain the name to this day : 
 but better for them and all men, they are 
 not the judges of the land. 
 
 No doubt Goldwell knew the claim 
 which had been urged by Ivan De Linton's 
 descendants to recover the one moiety of 
 
12 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 the estates in Wykes Ufford and Whitton, 
 as the Bishop of Norwich was left executor, 
 after the various gifts to the church, to 
 see the righful heir instituted. It might 
 be that this Ivan, who was Dr. Ivan, of 
 St. Mildred's, a.d. 1425, was not consi- 
 dered the rightful heir. Be that as it may, 
 he considered himself such, and spent a 
 fortune in endeavouring to obtain his property. 
 From that day, the gradual decline of the 
 Bishops of Norwich, as far as regarded 
 temporal possessions in Ipswich began, 
 and there is scarcely now a single acre of 
 land, or a single house in the neighbour- 
 hood, which belongs to that See. 
 
 Every record of that period will produce 
 testimony of their possessions in Wykes 
 Ufford. The Bishop's Hill still forms one 
 of the loftiest features over the town. The 
 deep glens of Holy WeUs, at the bottom 
 of that hill, with the stream, the moat, 
 the site of the palace, nay within the 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 13 
 
 memory of man, the beams of the cross 
 which stood at the head of the stream 
 which gushed from beneath the sandstone 
 rocks, were found crossing each other, 
 and were dug out of the earth during the 
 life of the late owner of the property. Many 
 an hour has the writer of these pages spent 
 in that glen at that spot, and many a 
 book has he perused within the precincts 
 of the Hermit's cave, now closely planted 
 with alders, firs, and brush-wood. 
 
 Lord De Freston and his daughter Ellen 
 might be found in the Lady Grey's Chapel 
 of St. Mary's returning thanks for their 
 deliverance. Lord De Freston lived in 
 an age when the support of the Papacy 
 was accounted such an undoubted act of 
 piety, that any nobleman attempting to dis- 
 pute its sway was to be looked upon as an 
 enemy to his God and his country. Lord 
 De Freston, though he never exercised his 
 authority with the hierarchy, to argue with 
 
14 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 them upon useless and fanciful customs, 
 which they constantly introduced, was highly 
 pleased with the manner in which William 
 Latimer had conducted himself that day, 
 and fully agreed with him in his animad- 
 version upon the fooleries of the monastic 
 establishments, the wisdom of unfolding 
 the Scripture, and the necessity of learning 
 in those, who were to be the public 
 expounders of the truth. 
 
 iVfter returning thanks in the chapel, 
 he accompanied Edmund Daundy to his 
 mansion, where the conversation was re- 
 newed concerning the steps to be taken 
 for the inspection of the ruins, and the 
 disposal of the body of St. Ivan. 
 
 " I do not think the priests of St. Peter's 
 will grant him a place of sepulture within 
 the precincts of their monastery," said 
 Daundy; "neither will Bishop Goldwell 
 be disposed to allow that he may be buried 
 within the grounds, inside the walls of 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 15 
 
 Ipswich. For the most part, the priests 
 looked upon him as one excluded from 
 the kingdom of heaven, frequently crossed 
 themselves whenever his name was men- 
 tioned, and none of them, I am quite sure, 
 would perform his funeral ceremony." 
 
 " Yet the old man had some virtues, 
 which would be no disgrace to any 
 one ! — He was conversant with the Scrip- 
 tures, he was kind to the poor, meek 
 and peaceable in his demeanour, spent 
 many hours of the day in meditation and 
 in the exercise of benevolence, and but 
 for his abhorrence of the superstitious de- 
 ceptions of those customs which the worst 
 days of Rome have sanctioned, might have 
 been deemed a good Catholic. Abstemious 
 to the utmost, his fasting was an every 
 day temperance. Devout in the extreme, 
 — all his hours were spent in devotion; — 
 generous to the last farthing, he gave 
 away all that was given him, and lived 
 
16 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 upon the loaves of charity. I took care 
 that he should not want bread whilst he 
 lived, though he always thought it came 
 from poor people, whom his medicinal cures 
 had restored to health. I will not ask any 
 of the religious houses in Ipswich to give 
 him a place of burial." 
 
 "Where then do you propose to bury 
 him?" 
 
 *' In the chapel of the Priory of Alnesh- 
 borne. — I will see this fraternity to-morrow 
 morn, and ask their permission, that the 
 bones of St. Ivan may rest in my own 
 family vault, beneath the altar in their 
 chapel : for the Lords of Freston, though 
 not all buried there, have a right of sepulture 
 reserved to themselves, beneath the high 
 altar of their chapel. This was one of the 
 conditions upon which the extra-parochial 
 lands, belonging to their monastery, were 
 granted to them. I think I shall have no 
 difficulty in this. The only difficulty I 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 1? 
 
 expect to meet with will be the finding 
 a place of rest for the body in some 
 sacred place, until all the preparations for 
 his interment shall be completed. I will 
 bring my men up to the town on 
 the morrow. In the meantime, do you 
 interest yourself in the good graces of the 
 bishop, and the monks of St. Peter's, first 
 that I may search the ruins of the palace 
 for his body, then, that it may be decently 
 kept within the walls of St. Peter's Priory 
 until such time as I am prepared for the 
 burial. I intend to watch the body myself 
 on the night of its burial, as a mark of my 
 respect for the deceased." 
 
 " T will do my best endeavours. I can 
 go to Goldwell Hall, suggest the propriety 
 of searching the ruins, under the authority 
 of the Mayor of the town both to preserve 
 whatever valuables can be thence recovered, 
 — and then ask for you, the body of St. 
 Ivan." 
 
18 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 This the good Daundy faithfully per- 
 formed. And that very evening Ellen 
 De Freston and Latimer, together with 
 Lord De Freston, were seated in their favour- 
 ite room of Freston Tower. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 19 
 
 CHAPTER II, 
 
 ST. Ivan's funeral. 
 
 An interesting conversation was held 
 in Freston Tower that evening between the 
 three persons who wanted nothing to cement 
 their affections, since love reigned in their 
 hearts. Extraordinary circumstances had 
 unexpectedly given birth to the warmest 
 feelings for each other. Interested in the 
 deepest sense, had each become. Perhaps 
 that of Ellen De Freston was the greatest, 
 because she felt so much both for her father 
 and Latimer. Again they rejoiced in being 
 
20 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 seated in their happy retreat, with their 
 souls full of thought, as they surveyed the 
 waves of that river which appeared by the 
 setting sun more beautiful than ever. 
 
 " I must go with the sound of the matin 
 bell, and ask John of Alneshborne to grant 
 me leave to bury the body of Ivan De 
 Linton within the precincts of the chapel," 
 said De Freston. " I shall have a mournful 
 duty ; but I hope a satisfactory one in com- 
 mitting to the ground the body of a man 
 who, with all his eccentricities, was a pure 
 philanthropist. Our priesthood will grant 
 no place of burial to an heretic ; and from 
 all I hear, St. Ivan was looked upon by 
 them as something worse than a heretic 
 and only worthy of the burial of a dog. I 
 must propitiate the priests of St. Peter 
 on the morrow, and get through the pre- 
 parations as well as I can. In the meantime, 
 Latimer, I request your stay at my castle ; 
 at least until this funeral be over." 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 21 
 
 Latimer had left Oxford with the full 
 intention of being in Padua, as soon as 
 wind and weather would permit. Little did 
 he think, when asking his friend Wolsey 
 to give him permission to convey some love 
 token to Ellen De Freston, on his account, 
 that he should be made to feel that he 
 himself had inspired an interest which he 
 could not fail to appreciate. He had no 
 compunctions in regard to Wolsey, for he 
 had received no commission to declare his 
 sentiments, and had no idea of their engage- 
 ment to the lovely Ellen, for whom now, 
 he could not fail to feel the most animating 
 and grateful interest. In a few days, 
 Latimer found more occasion to concentrate 
 his affections, upon the fair object that had 
 excited them. 
 
 That evening past away with many reflec- 
 tions of thankfulness, and on the morrow 
 Lord De Freston ordered his barge, and 
 visited the fraternity at AJneshborne Priory. 
 
22: FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 All that he requested was immediately 
 granted by that truly learned body ; the 
 night was fixed upon for the solemn funeral 
 to take place, and De Freston made a vow, 
 more in accordance with the superstition of 
 his age, than with true wisdom, to keep 
 watch in the chapel of the priory, and to 
 speak to no one, to answer no one, and to 
 be moved by none, until the priory bell 
 should give the sound of morning 
 prayer. 
 
 His next care was to visit the monks of 
 St. Peter's, and obtain their permission to let 
 the body of Ivan lie in state within their 
 walls. He had some difficulty in this, and it 
 was only by promising to pay a handsome 
 sum of money for watching the body, and 
 for prayers against sorcerers, that he could 
 prevail upon that bigotted body to grant him 
 his request. The next thing was to look for 
 the hermit. Bishop Goldwell had sanctioned 
 the Mayor's search for various articles of 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 2S 
 
 value, and had given permission to remove 
 the body of St. Ivan. 
 
 Lord De Freston and his men were the 
 first to pass over the moat in boats to search 
 the ruins, whilst hundreds collected on the 
 banks to see the removal of the body, which 
 was found erect, against the very pillar upon 
 which he had leaned when he died. A 
 cross-beam had fallen against the top of the 
 pillar so as to form a shield over him. A 
 mass of rubbish, of brick-work, broken tiles, 
 glass, and furniture, had to be removed 
 before the corpse could be taken out. There 
 was a placid serenity even in death, upon the 
 face ; his form was stiff, and the silvery 
 locks fluttered over his features as they 
 moved him through the ruins. 
 
 His bearers were awe-struck with the 
 downfall of that princely palace ; and not 
 quite satisfied in their own minds that some 
 of the standing portions of the building 
 might not fall upon their heads, they made 
 
24 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 what haste they could to Lord De Freston's 
 boat. 
 
 Curiosity excited some to pass over to the 
 broken walls ; and a desire to possess relics of 
 Wykes' Bishop's Palace instigated others. 
 The occasional slip of some congregated 
 mass, terrified the pilferers and made them 
 hasten from danger. 
 
 When the corpse of St. Ivan was removed 
 to the boat, the Mayor gave orders, that 
 none but authorized workmen should be 
 permitted to pass the bounds of the moat, 
 and that a clerk should give an exact account 
 of the articles found, for the use of the town 
 clerk and the Bishop's secretary. 
 
 De Freston's care was now to convey the 
 body to St. Peter's Priory, there to have it 
 lay in state until all things should be ordered 
 for the funeral. 
 
 It was not without great bribes that it 
 was admitted within the precincts of the 
 Priory, but the monks were not insensible to 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 25 
 
 the costly gifts of De Freston, and of 
 Edmund Daundy ; nor insensible to the use 
 which might be made among the common 
 people of the fame of St. Ivan. He was, 
 therefore, admitted, embalmed with all due 
 ceremony, and candles were dedicated to the 
 altar, for St. Ivan. Priests had to pray for his 
 soul's release from purgatory. A solemn 
 requiem was sung in the chapel, and during the 
 six days' rest in the Priory, costly dedications 
 were made to the shrine of St. Peter, at the 
 expense of the nobleman and his friends who 
 were only anxious that decent respect should 
 be paid to his memory. 
 
 How different are the customs of different 
 periods relative to the burial of the dead ; 
 how different, likewise, in different countries ! 
 That decency should be observed, every 
 Christian will freely acknowledge ; and where 
 society is formed upon true principles of 
 piety, all these things will be done with 
 propriety. Whether it be the cave of Mac- 
 
 VOL. II. C 
 
26 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 pelah, the pyramids of Egypt, the tombs of 
 ancient Greece, of Judaea, of the East, or the 
 West, they shew the existence of one common 
 custom of burial. None had more pompous 
 funerals than the Romans, and dreadful to 
 reflect upon were the savage sacrifices too 
 often made among half- civilized barbarians, as 
 well as savages at the tombs of warriors, 
 priests, or legislators, as if the honouring 
 of the dead could be any comfort to their 
 dust or satisfaction to their souls. 
 
 Notwithstanding the process of embalming, 
 the utmost care has but proved that the 
 preservation of man's dust is impossible. 
 Beautiful glass cases surround the hideous 
 mummies dug from Egyptian darkness to 
 grace the rooms of our National Museum ; 
 but we cannot bring the dry air of Egypt 
 into the regions of the North, nor long 
 preserve these relics of ancient greatness 
 from the decaying effect of our moistening 
 atmosphere. It may create wonder, in our 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 27 
 
 eyes, that any portions of our frame should 
 be so long preserved ; but what is the good 
 of extravagance exhibited upon the bodies of 
 the dead? Infinitely more valuable is the 
 discovery recently made in the medical world, 
 that we can be relieved from pain during the 
 operations of the most skilful surgeon, by the 
 temporary deadening effects of chloroform, 
 or mesmerism. The dead can eat no bread, 
 want no fire, hear no voice of love, answer 
 no friendly question, receive no mark of 
 kindness, nor make any return of aifection. 
 The living who can love one another 
 may be happy. It is better to have the 
 prayers of the poor destitute, than to build 
 the most splendid mausoleum in this world. 
 The heait of one good man is of more real 
 value, than the whole fabric of St. Peter's at 
 Rome. 
 
 Lord De Freston was not ashamed to 
 show to the world that he considered the old 
 man worthy of the customaiy Christian 
 
 c 2 
 
28 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 burial which, at that time, was bestowed 
 upon the nobles of the land. Hence his 
 preparations were made upon a corresponding 
 scale. 
 
 The seventh evening was appointed for 
 the funeral. It was agreed that he should be 
 buried by torch-light at the Priory of Augus- 
 tine Monks, beneath the shrine of St. Peter, 
 at the altar of Alneshborne Chapel. Lord 
 Ivan De Wykes, as the family were originally 
 called when the estates were conveyed to the 
 See of Norwich, had great possessions in 
 Dorsetshire and Cambridgeshire, as well as 
 in Essex and Suffolk ; but retaining only 
 certain estates at Linton and Ipswich the 
 name of Wykes was dropped and Ivan De 
 Linton substituted. These things were known 
 to De Freston when the old man first spoke 
 to him concerning his titles and family. It 
 might be on this account as well, that he 
 chose to pay him every mark of outward 
 respect. He had learnt something of Ivan's 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 29 
 
 private history in conversation with him, and 
 found that much of his eccentricity arose 
 from a disappointment of the heart in early 
 life. 
 
 The long procession of boats with torches 
 were collected at the quay of St. Peter's 
 Priory. There were twelve belonging to the 
 mayor and burgesses ; four to the Prior 
 of St. Peter's ; Daundy's, Sparro\v's, and 
 Wolsey's barge, and others among the common 
 people who chose to accompany the procession 
 with muffled oars, five miles down the river 
 to the vale of Alneshborne. At midnight, 
 the procession, headed by De Freston's boat, 
 with himself and his friend Latimer, started 
 at the sound of the solemn bells which, from 
 the various religious houses, gave forth their 
 mournful note. They were all muffled. 
 Torches were seen in the towers ; and along 
 the river side, the glare of one hundred and 
 sixty torches upon the waters showed a long 
 array of mourning pomp. The body lay. 
 
30 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 exalted on a large flat-bottomed boat, and 
 was towed by the sailors, who were ap- 
 pointed to bear the coffin from its deck. 
 They were seated in another boat, belonging 
 to the Priory. Four portmen, ten burgesses, 
 and a numerous company of priests and 
 choristers brought up the procession. Their 
 lengthened notes came swelling over the 
 waters as they chanted the requiem of the 
 departed. 
 
 It was a dark night, tlie waters were 
 gloomy, the banks of the river seemed in 
 mourning, the clouds looked as if they were 
 gathering to weep, and save the w^ild note of 
 the curlew as the torch-light disturbed her 
 upon the ooze, one mile down the river, all 
 was profoundly mournful. 
 
 De Freston's men were well acquainted 
 with the river, and as the lights from the 
 town began to grow dim, and the sound of 
 the tolling bells distant, and their oars were 
 muffled, a solemn stillness made a feeling of 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 31 
 
 awe creep over their frames, as they thought 
 of the hermit whom they were escorting to 
 his last cave. As they passed the long 
 hanging wood which bent to the waters, then 
 termed Long Island, since corrupted into 
 Hog Island, the startled cormorants rose in 
 succession from their roosting-places, and 
 filled the air with their hoarse chaunt. 
 Darker and darker grew the banks, and still 
 darker spread the clouds above, as the train 
 swept slowly along. The distant turrets of 
 Alneshborne Priory became visible, and soon 
 after torches were seen to glare upon the 
 waters' edge ; and the fraternity of monks 
 were visible awaiting the arrival of the 
 funeral. 
 
 As the boats approached the sandy strand 
 against the creek of Alneshborne, the whole 
 brotherhood assembled to receive the monks 
 of St. Peter's and Lord De Freston; and 
 along the shore a solemn chaunt arose from 
 the choristers as the men eased down the 
 
32 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 coffin of St. Ivan from the deck of the 
 barge : 
 
 Holy brethren, we are comey 
 Here to bring St. Ivan home ; 
 Take him, take him, holy men. 
 As St. Peter's denizen. 
 
 Alma Mater ! 
 
 Sancte Pater I 
 En et ecce ! Ecce en 1 
 
 Holy brethren t now we mourn. 
 Hear us, monks of Alneshborne ! 
 Take St. Ivan, take him then. 
 For St. Peter*s denizen. 
 
 Alma Mater I 
 
 Sancte Pater I 
 En et ecce ! Ecce en ! 
 
 Holy brethren I pity take. 
 For the Great St. Peter's sake j 
 Lay St. Ivan in your glen. 
 As St. Peter's denizen. 
 
 Alma Mater I 
 
 Sancte Pater I 
 En et ecce ! Ecce en I 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 33 
 
 The venerable brethren received Lord 
 De Freston and the mourners with 
 due solemnity, and made the following 
 response to the chaunt of St. Peter's 
 priests : 
 
 Welcome, welcome, to our shrine ! 
 Here St. Ivan may recline ; 
 Bring him onward, on his way, 
 Holy Friars of orders gray. 
 
 Ora ! ora ! 
 
 Sine Mora ! 
 For St. Ivan, brothers, pray. 
 
 Here the saint shall taste repose. 
 Here the tomb shall o'er him close. 
 Whilst we sing his resting lay. 
 Holy friar of orders gray ! 
 
 Ora ! ora ! 
 
 Sine Mora ! 
 For St. Ivan we will pray. 
 
 c 3 
 
34 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 Welcome he who comes in peace. 
 Here his honours shall not cease ; 
 We will chaunt them night and day. 
 Bear him, brothers, on his way. 
 
 Ora ! ora I 
 
 Sine Mora ! 
 Thus we chaunt St, Ivan's lay. 
 
 The procession was then formed, headed 
 by the monks of the place, and by the whole 
 body of the fraternity of St. Peter's. Then 
 came the bier, on each side of which walked 
 six burgesses. Lord De Freston following as 
 chief-mourner. Then Latimer, and the 
 various friends, townsmen, and acquaintances, 
 who, as much out of respect for the living 
 Lord De Freston, as for the dead St. Ivan, 
 attended the costly funeral. There was 
 Robert Wulsey, as it was then written. He 
 was an old man, and certainly would have 
 been much better at rest in his own house in 
 St. Nicholas, than braving the midnight air 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 35 
 
 to gratify his friend, De Freston. So grate- 
 ful did he feel to him for the interest he had 
 taken in his son Thomas, that as soon as 
 Daundy mentioned the subject to him, and 
 told him that it would be a compliment 
 which De Freston would feel, he actually 
 resolved, let the cost be what it might, to 
 attend the funeral of St. Ivan. The cost, 
 as the sequel will prove, was as much as 
 any man could pay. 
 
 The corpse was borne to the chapel, which 
 then stood beyond the walls of the Priory, in 
 a small secluded glen, near the bright stream 
 which flowed into the moat, and thence down 
 to the waves of the Orwell. The torches 
 illumined the glen, and when they all entered 
 the little chapel, a person outside might have 
 supposed that the building was on fire, so 
 glaring was the accumulated light of so 
 many torches. In front of the altar was the 
 family vault of De Freston. Amidst the 
 chaunts of the assembled priests, the body 
 
36 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 was lowered into the vault, the ceremony was 
 concluded ; and De Freston alone, with only 
 the candles burning upon the altar, was left 
 to watch, according to his vow, until the 
 morning matin-bell should permit him to 
 open the chapel door. . 
 
 It may seem singular, that a person like 
 Lord De Freston should submit to such un- 
 necessary devotion, but he had made a vow 
 to do it himself, and he was not a man to 
 turn aside from any purpose he had once 
 resolved to put in practice. It was in vain 
 that the elder brother of the monastery 
 offered himself to exonerate him from his 
 vow, and to supply his place. He was 
 determined : consequently, the whole body 
 of attendants had to leave him in the 
 chapel. He charged Latimer to return to 
 the castle, and not to think of coming over 
 the waters again until the morning-bell 
 should be heard from the Tower of Alnesh- 
 borne Priory. The mourners, therefore, re- 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 37 
 
 traced their way, the burgesses and towns- 
 men up the waves of the Orwell, and the last 
 to leave his friend was William Latimer, who 
 promised to return at the time appointed. 
 Taking leave of the friendly Augustines, he 
 ordered his rowers to unmuffle their oars, 
 and make the best of their way across the 
 tide. A light was to burn all night in 
 the fifth story of Freston Tower. The 
 mourners separated, and their torches were 
 seen quickly ascending the waves of the 
 Orwell, and Lord De Freston is alone in the 
 chapel of Alneshborne. 
 
38 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A MEMORABLE NIGHT. 
 
 Never, under such circumstances, did a 
 noble undergo a severer trial than did Lord 
 De Freston on that memorable night. The 
 parties had separated upon the wave, the 
 monks had returned to their cells, one holy 
 brother alone keeping watch in the belfry 
 tower to denote the hour of matin worship. 
 The Lord of Freston Tower knelt by that 
 lone altar, beneath which the hermit St. 
 Ivan now rested, and he was performing 
 the last form of devotion, which, according 
 
PRESTON TOWER. 39 
 
 to his VOW, he could then pay to departed 
 worth. The tomb could not be closed up 
 until that vow had been strictly observed. 
 Superstitious and uncalled for, as according 
 to our far wiser notions of acceptable duty 
 this would be considered, it was deemed a 
 high mark of personal devotion in that 
 day. 
 
 He had vowed that nothing on earth 
 should entice him from the chapel. The 
 proof of sanctity attending upon this vow, 
 was to be the strictness with which it should 
 be kept. He was to answer no voice what- 
 ever — to admit no one into the chapel, 
 when once he had locked himself in — to be 
 terrified by nothing internal or external — 
 that come whatever might, no word should 
 escape his lips : but in silent meditation 
 he should kneel at the altar and w^atch until 
 the morning. In a word, he should remain 
 there and keep his vow in spite of every 
 temptation to make him break it. 
 
40 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 If men would only keep watch within 
 themselves to guard against the entrance 
 of evil thoughts into their souls, and prevent 
 the devil from urging them thereby to 
 wicked words and actions, they would not 
 want to shut themselves up in gloomy 
 chapels, to appear before men in sancti- 
 monious garb. There would be no need 
 of costly sacrifices to the fancied glory of 
 the true God, which alas ! do but tend to 
 blow out the swollen pride of man because 
 of false notions of doing him honour. Keep 
 the heart sound, encourage there every 
 virtue, and let the grace of God cleanse 
 it from apostacy and superstition, for other- 
 wise man will soon be unfit to dwell with 
 holiness, and make his heart unfit for spiri- 
 tual consolation or comfort. 
 
 De Freston's self devotion was the theme 
 of praise among the deluded, though learned 
 monks of Alneshborne Priory, as well as 
 amongst the priests of St. Peter, or the mayor 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 41 
 
 and burgesses of the town of Ipswich, — 
 and perchance the cold-blooded Alice De 
 Clinton in the private chapel of Bishop 
 Goldwell might have deemed this act worthy 
 of her praise. But she knew it not, or else 
 she would not have supposed him to be a 
 heretic. It is impossible for a good heart 
 to be always silent in its devotions. It will, 
 it must speak to the glory of God. It has 
 so done in every age, and wiU so do to the 
 last day — ^but its internal struggles to con- 
 quer its external and internal foes will 
 be observed alone by God, and be known only 
 to him. 
 
 Whilst De Freston kept his silent watch, 
 the grumbling clouds gave intimation of a 
 coming storm. It had been a murky 
 night, and sweeping folds of darkness had 
 spread themselves over the sky : but now 
 the thunder began to roU, and the lightning 
 to illuminate the waters of the Orwell, and 
 for successive moments to darken even the 
 
42 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 torches of the boats. Ellen De Freston and 
 her maid were in the Tower, watching for 
 the expected return of Lord De Freston's 
 boat. On such a night, though her father 
 had not charged her to remain there, but 
 to let a light be burning in her usual lofty 
 apartment, she had chosen to keep watch for 
 her friend's return. 
 
 The light was seen in the Tower, and 
 the boatmen were guided by it and by 
 the light in the belfry of the Monastery 
 as certain beacons for their safety. But 
 every now and then the murky darkness 
 of the clouds, and the vivid flashes of the 
 lightning, would ahke obscure these beacons 
 from their sight. They could see the 
 windows of the little chapel they had left, 
 faintly iEuminated by the wax tapers within. 
 Latimer felt a degree of sorrow for his 
 Lord, that on such a night he should be 
 exposing himself to a long and dreary 
 watch, instead of being calmly at rest 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 43 
 
 upon his pillow in his own castle. It is 
 true, that his anxieties were somewhat 
 roused by the roar of the elements, but 
 he had six stout rowers, who knew the 
 channel well, and though they declared that 
 their boat had never been so tossed about 
 before upon the river, yet they had no doubt 
 of soon reaching the landing place beneath 
 the shades of Freston. 
 
 The wind was dead ahead against them, 
 and the short successive gusts which blew 
 directly down upon them, seemed to chop 
 the waves into spray as they dashed along. 
 The torches of twisted rope and pitch held 
 by two men astern required the greatest 
 dexterity in holding them lest they should 
 be jerked into the waters. Nothing but 
 complete immersion could extinguish them : 
 for even if the wind blew them out, it soon 
 blew them in again, and the first billow found 
 the flame again aspiring. But every now 
 and then the boat struck against a piece 
 
44 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 of timber, either the arm of some tree, or 
 the mast of some vessel, or a piece of 
 wreckage ; which rather alarmed the most 
 experienced boatmen of the party. One 
 flambeau was sent forward, and the man 
 held it as high as he could, to give notice of 
 any coming danger. 
 
 " If our friends going home, have not 
 better luck than we have," said one of 
 the men, " we shall hear of their being 
 capsized or driven ashore. They have, 
 however, wind and tide in their favor and 
 will scud homewards pretty quickly. Pull 
 away, my hearties !" 
 
 This was the language of young Harry 
 Benns, whose ancestors had for years been 
 servants of the Lords De Freston, and 
 the same youth was attached, and engaged 
 to the serving maid of Ellen De Freston. 
 
 " The light burns brightly in the Tower, 
 Master Latimer, and I fancy every now 
 and then T see something flitting past it. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 45 
 
 I suspect we have friends watching us 
 there.'' 
 
 " I wish both your Lord's watch and theirs 
 were over/' replied Latimer. " I like not 
 this dark, stormy struggle." 
 
 " Oh, never fear. Master ! We have a 
 good pilot to take charge of us ! Give way, 
 my lads ! that's it ! a strong arm, and good 
 courage, my boys 1" 
 
 Two very good things in their way, but 
 both may be put to the test when other 
 things come in their way. 
 
 Just at that moment a flash of lightning 
 opened upon them, and showed them such 
 a sight as made the stoutest heart among 
 them tremble. A huge vessel, without 
 light aboard, or sail, or man to steer her, 
 seemed as if she had broken from her moor- 
 ings, and was driving before the wind in the 
 very direction of the boat. She looked 
 like a floating mountain as she came along, 
 
46 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 seen for the instant, and then involved in 
 impenetrable darkness. 
 
 " There she comes," exclaimed the man 
 ahead ; " bout ship, my lads or we are all 
 overboard !" 
 
 Down she came — -the work of an instant 
 — she swept directly over them, turning 
 De Freston's boat keel upwards. Happily 
 she did not strike them midships, but 
 caught them astern, twisted them round 
 first — and was gone Hke a race horse upon 
 the course. 
 
 The shrieks of those unhappy men were 
 borne upon the wind, and plainly heard by 
 the Lord De Freston in the chapel of 
 Alneshborne. The neighbouring monks 
 were roused from their slumbers by the 
 alarm given by the brother in the watch- 
 tower: they listened, and could plainly hear 
 the cries of distress. 
 
 The boatmen, who had all been capsized, 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 47 
 
 extricated themselves as well as they could, 
 and clung to the boat, which, having been 
 so suddenly upset, contained a great quantity 
 of air, which added to its buoyancy. 
 
 '* Are you there, Benns ?" 
 
 " Is that you, Atkins ? Hold on, my 
 boys !" 
 
 " I say, where is my young master ?" 
 
 Latimer alone was not there. Having 
 been seated directly in the stern of the 
 boat, the violence of the blow had thrown 
 him into the eddy of the driving vessel, 
 and in a moment he was drawn, as it were, 
 in a vortex far away from his companions. 
 The vessel, however, drove faster than he 
 did upon the waters, and, being an expert 
 swimmer, he had struck out boldly against 
 the sweeping and curhng waves. When a 
 man has to struggle for life, and knows, 
 too, that it must be a hard struggle, he 
 had better not waste his strength in his 
 first efforts. Presence of mind is certainly 
 
48 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 the greatest requisite in sudden emergencies ; 
 and Latimer's first exclamation was not 
 a shriek of terror, but a prayer, short, earnest, 
 and expressive. 
 
 " Lord help me ! I am in danger. Sup- 
 port me through this trial, with the help of 
 thy right hand and holy arm." 
 
 He had scarcely uttered the words, and 
 lifted himself up to strike out as a brave 
 swimmer, when a huge plank, from the 
 beams of a wreck, came floating by him. 
 He caught hold of it, lifted himself upon it, 
 and, in another moment, sat across it, in 
 humble thankfulness to God for so much 
 mercy. He could hear his companions 
 calling aloud for help, apparently a long 
 way from him, drifting before the howling 
 winds. 
 
 It should be understood by the reader, 
 that to reach Lord De Freston's stair whilst 
 the tide was flowing, the men had to row 
 at least three quarters of a mile out of the 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 49 
 
 direct line, that they might the more easily 
 fetch the point at which they were to land. 
 They were at the very utmost distance when 
 the accident occurred. The boat then was 
 driven back almost to the Downham shore, 
 and consequently, as the men mounted the 
 keel, the wind had a greater power upon 
 the drifting mass, and took them swiftly 
 onward ; but Latimer, struggling against the 
 chops of the waves, and at last finding a 
 friendly plank to ride upon, was swept more 
 along the channel. 
 
 The beacon still burnt in Freston Tower, 
 and the anxious watchers therein were sud- 
 denly alarmed by the extinction of the light 
 upon the waves. 
 
 " I cannot see the lights of the boat upon 
 the waters," said Ellen De Freston, to her 
 maid. " 1 can see a light beaming from 
 the chapel; I can still see lights floating 
 towards the town, and dancing reflections 
 
 VOL. II. D 
 
50 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 upon the distant waters ; I can even see 
 the Tower light from the Priory, but I see 
 not those from my father's boat." 
 
 " O ! fear not, my Lady — fear not. I 
 dare say the wind and rain have extinguished 
 the torches; but depend upon it they will 
 reach the shore in safety. Do not be 
 afraid." 
 
 "I saw the boats part upon the waters, 
 and my father's boat bending its course to 
 come across the river. They seemed to be 
 coming nearer and nearer every minute, 
 and the torches to burn brighter; but, all 
 on a sudden, I miss them. I see no lights, 
 all is darkness except the lightning's flash, 
 and that shews me nothing." 
 
 " O ! do not fear, my Lady. They can 
 see our light, though their torches are 
 extinguished ; and I have heard my Henry 
 say he could always find his way across, even 
 if there were no lights burning in the Tower. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 51 
 
 It is a bad night, but do not let the thunder 
 and lightning terrify you ; they will soon be 
 be ashore." 
 
 " I fear, not so soon as you seem to 
 expect. You appear to be very bold, Maria, 
 but I fear Him only who holds the thunder 
 and the lightning in his hands. He is very 
 terrible !" 
 
 " It is in His help I trust, my Lady. He 
 is merciful and kind, and my Harry is a good 
 man, and I hope God will take care of 
 him." 
 
 "I hope the same for others," sighed 
 Ellen : and again she looked anxiously 
 upon the troubled waters. She could see 
 nothing but the dashing waves, illumined by 
 the sudden flashes of lightning. She could 
 hear nothing but the roar of the artillery of 
 Heaven, which was indeed enough to shake 
 the stout nerves even of the brave Lord De 
 Freston, but not enough to prevent his or 
 his daughter's watch. 
 
 D 2 
 
 L/BRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF iimm 
 
52 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 The brethren of Alneshborne, whose 
 monastery lay directly in the course of the 
 wind, had heard the mournful cries repeated 
 upon the waters, and, with all speed, had 
 quickly followed their watchman to the 
 shore. There, shoving off their own boat, 
 and guided by the occasional call of distress, 
 they plied their accustomed oars upon the 
 wave. At times they lifted up their generous 
 voices, and fancied they were heard. The 
 thunders roared above, the pelting rain fell 
 in torrents, and they had nothing but hope 
 to guide them. They could hear voices 
 calling for help, but so dark was the night, 
 and so heavy the shower, that they could 
 scarcely tell from which point of the channel 
 the cries came. 
 
 In the midst of a peal of thunder came a 
 flash of lightning so vivid and clear, that 
 the parties actually saw each other as dis- 
 tinctly as if it were day ; and such a shout 
 of joy arose, as deliverers and the delivered 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 53 
 
 could alone utter. A few more strokes of 
 the oar from the monks, and they are 
 alongside the capsized boat, picking off the 
 men, binding the rudder to their own boat's 
 stern, and receiving the blessings and embraces 
 of the sailors of De Freston. Nothing could 
 exceed the gratitude of the poor fellows, 
 thus mercifully delivered from a watery 
 grave. 
 
 But Lord De Freston's friend. He was 
 not there ; and the sailors looked sad and 
 sorrowful in each others' faces. 
 
 " Alas 1 he is gone to the bottom," said 
 Benns, " I saw the great trader strike him a 
 heavy blow, and send him along the wave 
 dragging him with her. He is gone! holy 
 men 1 and we must acquaint our master with 
 his loss." 
 
 "Leave that to me," said the superior, *' I 
 will go alone to the chapel ; meanwhile, you 
 must come to the monastery and partake 
 
64 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 of such accommodation as our means can 
 render." 
 
 " We shall be well pleased to land, your 
 reverence, for some of us have shipped more 
 water than we can carry, and should be 
 glad to have it pumped out of us." 
 
 The monks took the boat in tow, and 
 landed at their own shore, to the great 
 satisfaction of the poor sailors. 
 
 A fire was soon lighted in that ancient 
 hall; and old cloaks and hoods, and dry 
 garments exchanged for their heavy soaken 
 woollen clothes. Nor were the friendly 
 monks less careful for their internal comfort, 
 having placed before them such spirituous 
 liquors, as might best qualify or remedy the 
 chill of the salt water in their stomachs. 
 
 The Prior himself went to the chancel- 
 door of the little chapel, leaving the poor 
 fellows talking about their lord and his lost 
 friend, and wondering in their own minds 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 55 
 
 whether the vow would or would not be 
 broken. Old John of Alneshborne went 
 himself to the chapeL The Lord De Freston 
 heard the noise upon the waters. The 
 sounding of the alarm-bell from the monas- 
 tery, the thunders roaring, and saw the 
 lightnings flashing; but he firmly kept his 
 vow, for he had resolved that nothing should 
 tempt him to break it. 
 
 A gentle but hasty knock was heard at 
 the door, and a voice, exclaiming : 
 
 *' I am John of Alneshborne, I come to 
 absolve thee from thy vow. Thy boat is 
 upset, thy friend is lost ; oh ! leave off thy 
 watch and come and help us." 
 
 But no answer from within gave any 
 indication of slackened duty or of wavering 
 vow. 
 
 " Open the door ! watch no longer, thy 
 men are exhausted. They are in the Priory ! 
 they want thy help ! O, noble Lord, let me 
 entreat thee to come and advise us what we 
 
56 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 are to do. The light still burns in Freston 
 Tower; shall we pass over to the castle? 
 What shall we do ?" 
 
 Not a single word came in reply, though 
 the noble heard the news with a deep pang, 
 only to be imagined by those who felt for 
 him. Yet he put up a silent prayer for 
 support, and even that the morning's light 
 might bring him better tidings. He felt as 
 if he should hear better news, if he kept his 
 vow, and if he did not, that some fresh 
 horror would approach with the matin-bell. 
 Never was father, friend, or noble, more 
 deeply tried ; yet he kept his watch, and the 
 Prior returned from his ineffectual attempt to 
 move him. That night was, indeed, a night 
 of horrors. 
 
 Some of the monks attributed all these 
 accidents to the admission of the hermit's 
 body into their chapel ; and took upon them- 
 selves to lecture their elders for their ready 
 acquiescence in the will of Lord De Freston. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 57 
 
 Others thought it a judgment upon Latimer, 
 as he was the only one lost. They all made 
 vows to be more strict in the performance of 
 their duties, and some of the sailors confessed 
 to them their sins. 
 
 " It was a bad night when we started," 
 said Harry Benns. " I could tell by the 
 clouds we should have a storm, and perhaps 
 the judgment you speak of may have fallen 
 heavily upon the priests of St. Peter's. A 
 storm is but a storm, good monks, and there 
 is a God above to rule that, as well as our- 
 selves. He has delivered us out of peril, and 
 we have reason to rejoice and be thank- 
 ful." 
 
 " Young man," replied the superior, " dost 
 thou know the means by which thou wast 
 saved ? St. Peter was our help." 
 
 " I know that you and your brethren of 
 this Priory were the instriunents in the hands 
 of God to save our lives ; and I give God 
 thanks first, and thee next ; but I do not 
 
 D 3 
 
58 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 see how St. Peter helped us, any more than 
 the dead St. Ivan." 
 
 The monks looked at each other, as much 
 as to express astonishment at the youth's 
 impiety, and one said to the other — *' I 
 wonder this fellow was not lost ?" 
 
 " Let us hope the best," replied the 
 superior, " his ignorance is the best excuse 
 which can be made for him. He will soon 
 know better. I will take care and inform 
 his Lord ; so that he shall do penance for 
 this slur upon St. Peter." 
 
 The conversation then turned upon the 
 lost Latimer ; the monks all agreeing that 
 he was not an ignorant man ; but one who 
 had certainly entertained notions contrary to 
 the ordained decrees of the Pope ; one who 
 had ventured not only to think for himself, 
 but to argue with others, and even with the 
 learned fraternity of Alneshborne. He was, 
 doubtless, punished as a heretic, and his 
 fate would be a warning to many how they 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 59 
 
 dared to open their lips against St. Peter. 
 They thought that good would come of this, 
 even to the Lord De Freston, whose pious 
 watch they did not fail to laud ; and to praise 
 him highly for having kept his vow, through 
 such unexampled difficulties. 
 
60 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE FATE OF THE SWIMMER. 
 
 Latimer was drifting on the tide his 
 long straight piece of timber, very unsteady 
 in its progress — at one time going at an 
 angle as if it would drive to the shore of 
 Freston Tower, at another steering with a 
 wide course towards the Priory. Its progress 
 was slow, only when it came among those 
 long winding weeds fine as the smallest 
 ribbons, and ten or twenty feet long, which 
 would occasionally twist themselves over the 
 board. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 61 
 
 This he felt to be his worst position, for 
 whenever his plank was delayed, he found 
 the greatest difficulty to keep his place upon 
 it. The incessant spray, too, was such as to 
 blind him, and scarcely permitted him to see 
 the light of the tower on the Freston side, 
 or upon that of Downham Reach. Still 
 Latimer was thankful that he had found 
 this friendly help in the hour of need. 
 
 He looked at the light glimmering from 
 that happy spot in which he had spent the 
 most enlightened moments of his life. He 
 looked and longed for that friendly shore ; 
 nor did he forget to pray both for her whom 
 he loved, and for her father, whose supersti- 
 tion, even at that moment, he conceived to be 
 the cause of the catastrophe. He could not 
 help thinking that if that watching had not 
 been, he should not then have been a solitary 
 sufferer upon the waves of the Orwell. 
 Again, he thought it might have happened, 
 even if De Freston had been on board the 
 
62 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 boat, and a thrill of joy ran through his cold 
 frame at the thought that he was safe. 
 
 It was evident, that his plank neared the 
 Freston shore ; for, as the lightning flashed, 
 he beheld the castle, and the tower, and the 
 trees, and even imagined that he distin- 
 guished the very stair in a line with the light 
 of the tower. Just at that time, too, his 
 limbs seemed to be released from the cling- 
 ing sea-weed and his floating spar to rush 
 into deep water. It darted forward as if 
 relieved from confinement. Its course seem- 
 ing to be towards the shore. It was 
 evidently in the deep channel, and Latimer 
 thought it was the very channel which he 
 knew swept up to the Freston shore. The 
 light of the tower was now behind him, and 
 again the weeds stopt his plank. It was 
 then, that he thought of making his greatest 
 effort. 
 
 " I am leaving the shore," he said to 
 himself; " and my plank wiU soon be drawn 
 
PREStON TOWER. 63 
 
 down by the weight of the weeds, and I shall 
 go with it. I must now try my strength, 
 and with God's help, I may reach the 
 land." 
 
 He cast off his coat, he tore off his shoes ; 
 stript himself as much as he could, and with 
 prayer heavenward, and his eyes upon the 
 beacon, he cast himself upon the waters. In 
 a moment, he felt those long winding weeds 
 twisting themselves around his limbs. His 
 presence of mind did not forsake him. He 
 had often swam the waters of the Severn, 
 and had been well tutored against weeds. 
 To struggle against them he knew was vain. 
 The old fisherman on his native waters, had 
 often told him that the only way to escape 
 them, was to lay himself out as fleet as he 
 could and never to strike until they un- 
 twisted themselves, which they would be sure 
 to do if he would ixot resist them. He did 
 this directly, and though it delayed him, yet 
 delay in this instance was avoiding danger. 
 
64 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 He struck out as fleetly as he could until he 
 escaped these treacherous weeds, and to his 
 great joy he came into deep water. 
 
 His eye now rested upon the beacon, his 
 arms expanded, his chest breasted the waves, 
 and hope, that sweet companion, hope in the 
 mercy of God did not forsake him. It was a 
 hard struggle, however, to buffet the op- 
 posing waves, with both wind and tide 
 against him. He had youth, health, strength, 
 hope, and love in his favour ; and ail that a 
 young man with a good heart could do, he 
 did to reach the wished-for shore. 
 
 There is, however, a limit to human 
 exertion, beyond which no man's strength 
 can avail. He was ignorant of the distance 
 he had to swim. A hght looks sometimes 
 nearer than it really is, and the poor 
 straggler's heart was greatly tried, as, with 
 all his efforts, he did not seem to near the 
 shore. Yet the light seemed to burn higher 
 up in the sky ; and, as the Hghtning illumined 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 65 
 
 the waters, he thought that the dark woods 
 were nearer. 
 
 Did the classical scholar think of the 
 Hellespont as he breasted the waves, or 
 remember the fate of the far-famed Leander ? 
 The night was such as to create despondency, 
 without referring to the classical allusion. 
 But the Christian Latimer knew what Leander 
 did not — that God was his help. He had 
 not presumptuously braved the waves for a 
 secret amour, and, much as he admired the 
 true love of Leander, he felt himself in a 
 very different position, though Freston Tower 
 was then his aim, and he hoped that 
 Ellen De Freston might be expecting his 
 return. 
 
 Great were his repeated exertions, but 
 he felt his strength beginning to fail him ! 
 He looked up at the light and he thought 
 it less distinct. He felt a strange dimness 
 overshadow his brain, a nervous prostration 
 of strength, and a weakness, which made 
 
$6 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 him anxious only to exert himself the 
 more. 
 
 The light from the tower suddenly 
 disappeared. Oh ! how his soul seemed to 
 sink; and not only his soul, for a dimness 
 like a film, seemed to spread itself over his 
 eyes, and his hands and his feet to sink 
 lower, and to strike feebler beneath the 
 waves. 
 
 Strange mists are beginning to fill those 
 longing eyes, and sparkling, star-like lights 
 to flit across his vision. "And is it thy 
 wiU, O Lord !" was the last exclamation from 
 his fainting lips, as he lifted his head in 
 the darkness, and his feet sank motionless 
 downwards. That very motion in one 
 moment convinced him of God's mercy ; 
 that it was His will he should be saved. 
 He felt the ground, his feet touched the 
 shore. With a bound of joy, such as angels 
 may be supposed to feel at the returning 
 steps of the repentant, he sprang forward 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 67 
 
 — the tide had previously turned — the wave 
 helped him — and the flash of the now 
 friendly lightning shewed him the stair of 
 De Freston just before him ! 
 
 One efl'ort more — a loud cry of joy and 
 for help — he seized the step of the stair — 
 vain his effort to ascend, too weak, too 
 feeble, too exhausted, he fell, still grasping 
 the lowest step of De Freston's landing-place. 
 All consciousness was gone ; instinctively he 
 grasped the step, and every wave became less 
 powerful, until it only washed against his 
 feet. 
 
 Ellen De Freston had cautioned her maid 
 to take the lamp out of the way of the 
 window whilst she opened the casement 
 looking down upon the waves. Hers was 
 rather a dangerous position, in a lofty tower 
 surrounded by trees, in the very midst of 
 thunder and lightning. Many minds would 
 quail before such terrors ; but love is very 
 strong, and when aided by education, and 
 
68 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 divested of all superstition, it is a power of 
 dependence upon God stronger than a 
 castle. 
 
 She felt that her father and her friend 
 were absent ; that they were returning from 
 sacred duties, difficult to fulfil, and requiring 
 the assistance of her loving aid. Who can 
 watch so well as they who wish for our safety ? 
 And who can do this better than an affec- 
 tionate child ? 
 
 Ellen De Freston opened her casement, 
 anxious to hear some sound of the plashing 
 oars, or some voices upon the Orwell. She 
 thought she heard, through the lull of the 
 storm, a faint moan. She listened again — 
 she did hear it. 
 
 " Hark, Maria ! leave the lamp ; come to 
 the window. Hark ! dost thou not hear a 
 moan ?" 
 
 " I do, my Lady — I do ! It is some poor 
 wretch upon the shore !" 
 
 " Haste thee below, maiden. Come, let us 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 69 
 
 haste ! But hold ! we must not take away 
 the beacon." 
 
 " Shall I run to the castle for help ?" 
 
 "No, quickly descend, and ascend again 
 with the torch that hangs upon the porch- 
 door. Quick ! quick ! Maria. Fly ! I can 
 still hear the moan of distress. We must 
 be above our sex in the moment of dan- 
 ger." 
 
 The torch was soon lit. Neither felt the 
 coldness of the wind, nor the fury of the 
 storm. Some poor suiferer must be cast 
 upon the shore; and when is a woman's 
 heart so deeply alive, and so warmly engaged 
 as when conveying help to the disconsolate. 
 The man who cannot appreciate female 
 philanthropy knows not what true pity is. 
 It glows so vividly, it comes so blessedly, it 
 shines so graciously, that the most war- 
 like men have, in all ages, been subdued 
 by it. 
 
 With rapid steps did Ellen De Freston 
 
70 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 and her maid hasten, by the burning torch- 
 light, to the shore. Their first care was to 
 hasten to the stair, by which they could 
 descend to the level of the waves. They 
 reached it. 
 
 Holding down the torch, they see a form 
 below — they descend — the light shews them 
 at once the features of Latimer, and their 
 tender hearts are struck with horror. A 
 wild shriek reaches the castle of De Freston, 
 and arouses the inmates, who were awaiting 
 their Lord's return. The ancient dame of 
 the castle, with servants and men, came 
 running down the greensward towards the 
 light which they saw burning by the 
 stairs. 
 
 They soon perceive their young mistress 
 leaning over the apparently lifeless body of a 
 young man. They soon recognized the 
 features, and lent their aid to remove him to 
 the castle. 
 
 Glad, indeed, was Ellen of their help, and 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 71 
 
 quickly did she follow them into that place 
 of hospitality whence a sufferer never was 
 excluded, or failed to receive the kindest 
 attention. 
 
 But such a sufferer as then entered the 
 walls, and under such circumstances, com- 
 manded all the interest of affection and 
 pity. 
 
 He was quickly conveyed to a warm bed. 
 Oh ! what deep anxiety dwelt in the mind 
 of the maiden, as her unconscious friend was 
 placed at least out of further danger, and 
 she received the assurance of her old nurse 
 that he was alive. She dropped upon her 
 knees, put up her prayers for help, and 
 every returning minute confirmed the report 
 of his revival. Exhaustion was so great that 
 the sufferer had no voice ; his eye only coiJd 
 speak his thankfulness, and this seemed 
 eloquent to heaven. Yet it beamed too with 
 gratitude, upon that dear friend who had 
 
72 ■ FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 first relieved him from his cold, dark fate on 
 the shore of the Orwell. 
 
 It was long indeed — for hours are long to 
 the suspended hopes and fears of any — 
 before the faintest whisper could narrate the 
 miseries of that dismal light. In faint, 
 very faint, whispers did the suiferer unfold 
 to his kind attendants the catastrophe which 
 had occurred. 
 
 Ellen knew her father's intention to keep 
 watch in the chapel ; but she thought of his 
 anxieties, what they must be if any report 
 should reach him of the fate of his crew, and 
 the loss of Latimer. Happy, very happy, 
 was she in being the blessed instrument of 
 his recovery, though even that might be a 
 longer work than she expected. She was 
 thankful that a whisper could be heard, that a 
 consciousness of her care had come to the 
 suiferer. 
 
 This, indeed, had come long before he 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 73 
 
 could express it. When he could it was 
 exquisite pleasure so to do. Oh ! how 
 grateful do we all feel to the kind hands 
 which minister to our wants in sickness ! 
 When are we more virtuous? When are 
 we more thankful ? When is our love more 
 lively than when unable to do anything for 
 ourselves, we find a helping hand to lift up 
 our weary head, and to place it upon our 
 softened pillow. Religion comes never 
 sweeter in her influences than when she 
 approaches our sick bed, and tells us 
 how grateful we ought to be to our 
 God. 
 
 Latimer w^as a good man, a grateful man, 
 a humble man, in short, a Christian. His 
 w'as a heart moved by pious influences which 
 tended only more and more to humble his 
 spirit and to help him to be the man he 
 afterwards became. No man becomes sud- 
 denly good, and young men in these days are 
 very apt to despise their seniors, to think all 
 
 VOL. II. E 
 
74 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 things made for themselves, nothing too 
 good for them, and no one so good as them- 
 selves. Latimer was humbled to the verge 
 of the grave, and felt, nevertheless, an indes- 
 cribable happiness in the thought that he 
 might yet live to bear witness to the good- 
 ness and mercy of God in his own preserva- 
 tion. It made him pray earnestly for the 
 boatmen who were cast upon the waters, for 
 the Lord De Freston, for the mayor, port- 
 men, burgesses and commonalty who had 
 been in danger upon the Orwell; for the 
 monks of Alneshborne, for the servants of 
 De Freston, for friends far away, and even 
 for his enemies; but marvel not, reader, if 
 he dwelt long and devoutly upon the thought 
 of his fair deliverer, and prayed longer and 
 warmer for her, because he felt that beneath 
 the guidance of divine help she had minis- 
 tered to that change which was then passing 
 through his frame for his recovery. 
 
 How sweet is the first sleep after strug- 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 75 
 
 gling nature, restored from exhaustion, re- 
 lieved from exertion, is lulled into repose, by 
 the rest of tenderness. " Blessed, indeed, 
 are all they who provide any comfort for the 
 sick and needy ; they shall find relief when 
 they are themselves in need of help." 
 
 In prayer for Ellen, came Latimer's first 
 repose ; and the maid of the castle then gave 
 orders for a boat to be prepared for the first 
 sound of the Priory matin-bell. 
 
 De Freston was the fii'st to hear that 
 sound and to rise from his watch; to open 
 the chapel-door, and, with a calm composure, 
 to receive the congratulations of the brother- 
 hood. Well did he know, that he could 
 afford no assistance to Latimer, if he were 
 drowned in the Orwell; and well he knew, 
 that the monks could best administer to the 
 wants of his men. He walked forth, there- 
 fore, from his devotions with no surprise; 
 nor was he astonished to find his boat ready, 
 
 E 2 
 
76 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 the water baled out, all his men equipped in 
 dry clothes, and quite anxious to pass over to 
 Freston Tower. : 
 
 He thanked the learned fraternity for their 
 kindness, paid all the customary fees, and 
 promised what he knew he could well 
 perform for their attention to his people. 
 He walked to the shore, thinking of his 
 daughter ; and before he could embark, 
 though the tempest had passed away, yet the 
 waters were greatly troubled, he beheld that 
 daughter approaching from her Tower to 
 convey tidings which every soul upon that 
 beach was glad to hear. 
 
 *' Alas ! my child," exclaimed De Freston, 
 as his beauteous Ellen rushed to his arms, 
 " where is Latimer ?" 
 
 "Safe, my dear father, in your own 
 castle." 
 
 " Then God be praised for his mercies !" 
 
 *' Amen ! amen ! amen !" was the response 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 77 
 
 from all ; and soon were they all, beneath 
 happier auspices, passing over those now less 
 formidable waves, to the welcome precincts of 
 Freston Tower. 
 
78 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 WOLSEY. 
 
 How fared the friends of De Freston, 
 Daundy, Wolsey, the aged Sparrow, Samson, 
 Felawe, Fastolf, Gooding, Cady, and such as 
 were connected with the ancient borough of 
 Ipswich, who were anxious to show respect 
 more to the living lord than the dead St. 
 Ivan ? That night was death to the venera- 
 ble Wolsey, the father of the scholar. The 
 boat he was in, was driven ashore on Long 
 Island, and the waters, at that period, were 
 so full, as to fill all the flats of the Green- 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 79 
 
 side, now called Greenwich Farm; so that 
 the whole of that night was spent upon the 
 shore, by this aged man, who was exposed to 
 the rain and wind, and he never recovered 
 from the ill-effects of it. Robert Wolsey 
 had been in his own boat, manned with his 
 own six men, who were accustomed to 
 convey his stores from his wharf and lands at 
 Stoke ; for Robert Wolsey was a man of 
 some substance in those days, — a large 
 agriculturalist and dealer in ships' stores, and 
 especially in the victualling of all his Ma- 
 jesty's ships in the ports of Ipswich and 
 Harwich. 
 
 The old man returned home the next day, 
 having been taken off Long Island by his 
 rich relatives' men, who came in quest of 
 him the morning after the storm. Dame 
 Joan was full of anxiety at the night, and at 
 the delay, and dreaded the worst; but the 
 worst was yet to come, for Robert Wolsey 
 returned alive, took to his bed, and though 
 
60 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 nursed with care, and supposed to be almost 
 convalescent, soon after making his last will 
 and testament in the presence of Mr. 
 Richard Farrington, suddenly declined and 
 died, to the great grief of all his friends and 
 connexions. 
 
 Wolsey was summoned from his college to 
 attend upon the funeral of his father, and to 
 administer to his last will and testament. 
 His grief was heavy at the loss of a kind 
 hand ; but he started when he heard of the 
 interest his friend Latimer had excited in the 
 heart of Ellen De Freston. Never did his 
 hopes receive so severe a blow as when he 
 learnt, from his mother's lips, that Lord De 
 Freston had consented to acknowledge Lati- 
 mer as the future guardian of his lovely 
 daughter. His mourning had a double 
 weight ; a burthen insurmountable to many, 
 and even in his strong mind, not without a 
 degree of weakness which changed the 
 current of his years, and made him what he 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 8 I 
 
 never would have been, the highest and most 
 exalted subject in the realm, and afterwards 
 the one most prostrate. 
 
 Men may talk of well-regulated opinions, 
 of high renown and characteristic magnani- 
 mity — of wrong notions of love, degenerat- 
 ing into fancy — with stern Platonic argu- 
 ments hold forth to the young, the true 
 wisdom of philosophy, that the genius, the 
 acquirements, the hopes, fears, prospects, and 
 views of men, should not be subject to 
 feehng. That genius should rise above 
 nature ! philosophy control it, and all 
 passions of every kind be subjected to solid 
 reason. What instructive lessons have been 
 read to mortals by some who think that 
 Milton's genius was of this kind, or Lock's 
 glory in such ideas. These givers of good 
 advice have, however, not unfrequently 
 experienced that disappointments of the 
 heart cannot be conquered by philosophy. 
 Few men were more wise for their years 
 
 E 3 
 
82 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 than Thomas Wolsey, when fellow of Mag- 
 dalen College Oxford : few^ if any, ever 
 attained greater celebrity for his extra- 
 ordinary progress in logic and philosophy ; 
 so that at twenty-four years of age, it might 
 be said of him that he was, take him for 
 all things, the wisest man in the University. 
 Melancholy indeed were his reflections when 
 he attended the funeral of his father, and 
 heard the news of Ellen De Freston's engage- 
 ment to Latimer. Up to this period of his 
 existence, the secret had been kept within 
 his own soul, unless a slight breath thereof 
 reached his mother's ear. It never would 
 have been known beyond that ear, had not 
 a very old poem called Wolsey 's Lament, 
 revealed it ; and accounted for very much 
 that was alike strange in his early years, 
 and upon no other grounds to be accounted 
 for. 
 
 Wolsey 's grief at the loss of his father 
 was given out, as the reason why he visited 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 83 
 
 no one, would be seen by no one — excluded 
 himself from all his former associates, and 
 even deserted the mansion of the noble Lord 
 De Freston. Ellen sent him an invitation 
 — Latimer, unable to move to Ipswich, 
 hoped he would come to him. He wanted 
 to talk over College affairs : but Wolsey's 
 heart sickened at these things. Dame Joan 
 had the task of making excuses for him, 
 which she did, assigning his utter inabiUty to 
 enjoy anything. A certain time he must 
 remain at Ipswich to settle his father's 
 affairs, prove his will and administer to his 
 effects. He felt that the sooner that time 
 was over, the better it would be for him. 
 Vain were aU the kind letters, messages, 
 and even personal attentions which the 
 Lord of Freston Tower and his daughter 
 paid to him. He would neither receive nor 
 answer them: but wandered over the hiUs 
 of Stoke, where he poured out his melancholy 
 spirit. 
 
84 I*RESTON TOWER. 
 
 There was a spot upon his father's estate 
 which commanded from its summit an 
 extensive view both of the Orwell and the 
 Gipping. His parents used frequently to 
 visit it on a summer's evening ; and the old 
 man had built a sort of summer house, 
 and made a plantation round it. It was a 
 lovely place, and rose abruptly almost like 
 a crag, from the green hills sloping around 
 it. The landscape was at once grand, wide 
 and sweeping, commanding a direct view of 
 the whole town beneath it, and the waters 
 circling along the walls of St. Peter, and 
 the ancient quay far away to the right of the 
 spectator. Thence might be seen all the 
 churches and religious houses in the vicinity, 
 the shipping upon the Orwell, the boats 
 ascending the Gipping, which at that time, 
 instead of horses and waggons, conveyed 
 the hay from the meadows, or the straw 
 from the lands to the port of Ipswich. 
 To this pleasant spot, did the now melan- 
 
P'RESTON TOWER 85 
 
 choly youth repair. His brow was care- 
 worn, and his heart ill at ease, and sick 
 with disappointment. He needed prayer to 
 rouse him from his torpid state, or the 
 cheerful voice of some confidential companion 
 to take off the load of his distress, but he 
 was too proud a spirit to own what he felt, 
 or to open his lips to any one upon the 
 subject. Yet would he sit hours together in 
 that summer-house, away from every human 
 being, and bend his glance upon the scene, 
 and think of all that was gone by, not only 
 in his own life, but for ages past. 
 
 Latimer had occasionally known him in 
 his melancholy hours. He heard of his 
 conduct, and could not conceal from himself, 
 or others, the wish he had to go to him ; but 
 the weakness, arising from his dangerous 
 illness was of such an extent, as to prevent 
 the possibiHty of his seeking him, and minis- 
 tering to him in friendship. Had the 
 attempt been made, it would have been 
 
86 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 rejected; for Wolsey never would have said 
 to him : " Thou art thyself the cause of my 
 distress.*' His lament, however, which was 
 written at that period, speaks the tone of the 
 man's mind better than any words which can 
 be said for him. 
 
 'g 3Lawent. 
 
 Ye skies above me shining fair, 
 
 And clouds transparent floating there, 
 
 How bright ye seem ! how swift ye fly ! 
 
 Ye seem to be in extasy. 
 
 Why do ye shine so purely bright. 
 
 On soul as gloomy as the night? 
 
 Ye mock my sorrows as ye lightly roll. 
 
 And seem to say " The scholar has no soul !" 
 
 I have a soul — I see ye shine ; 
 
 Would that my light were such as thine ! 
 
 Ye ride triumphantly along. 
 
 Delighted as with cheerful song ; 
 
 But, oh ! what mockery to see 
 
 That you can thus be glad and free, 
 
 Whilst I am chained with heavy loaded grief. 
 
 Nor sky, nor clouds, nor sun can give relief. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 87 
 
 O, glorious sun ! thou sliinest there, 
 
 The beacon of this hemisphere, 
 
 CaUing to life the seeds of earth, 
 
 And myriads to happy birth. 
 
 They dance on silv'ry wing with glee, 
 
 Made merry through the warmth of thee. 
 
 Whilst I alone, 'neath thine all-warming ray. 
 
 Feel not thine influence— so dark my day. 
 
 O, hide thee ! hide thee in a storm. 
 
 Or take the darkest, blackest form ; 
 
 Perchance my gloominess were shock' d, 
 
 And from mine heart, my grief unlocked. 
 
 Might fly to thee, and happ'ly say, 
 
 " Sun, I am brighter than thy day ;" 
 
 But shine not now so brightly o'er my woes, 
 
 Thou mock' St the heart that darkness doth compose. 
 
 Ye trees so green, so freshly green ! 
 What vigour in your stems is seen ; 
 Why, robed in mantles of delight. 
 Do ye thus mock my aching sight ? 
 Ye look so lovely in your smile ; 
 Have ye no pity in your guile ? 
 Why look so rich, enchanting to the eye. 
 Of him who, like a severed leaf must die ? 
 
68 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 Your leaves must wither, fall away, 
 
 Another spring you'll look as gay t 
 
 Your roots receive the vernal shower, 
 
 Your buds put forth their leafy power ; 
 
 And grateful shades to love ye give, 
 
 And bid the songsters happy live ; 
 
 But, oh ! no love for me is found to dwell 
 
 Within your shade, your love-enchanting spell. 
 
 Ye swallows passing on the wing, 
 
 Catching at every tiny thing ; 
 
 Gliding so swiftly o'er the plain, 
 
 And then returning back again ; 
 
 Ye summer friends with happy hearts. 
 
 What pleasure life to you imparts ! 
 
 Ye know no winter ! grief doth bring no care, 
 
 To such as you, ye children of the air ! 
 
 Oh ! do not mock me ! I would fly. 
 
 Ay, lightly too, as happily. 
 
 Could I but feel I had a wing 
 
 Of love, could lighten such a thing 
 
 As I am — heavy-hearted man — 
 
 In this, my short and dreary span. 
 
 Go, fly away ! depart to distant land ; 
 
 Mock not my spirit with your flirtings bland. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 89 
 
 Ye hills around me, why so gay ? 
 
 Vanish ! oh, vanish ye away ! 
 
 Why stand ye there in fertile pride. 
 
 My heart and senses to deride ? 
 
 Ye looked so lovely ; but of late, 
 
 I could have contemplating sat 
 
 Where now I sit, and long had wished to stay ; 
 
 But flee ye ! flee ye from my sight away 1 
 
 How oft in shadowy forms ye rose ! 
 
 Not then exulting o'er my woes ; 
 
 But courted as Parnassus' height. 
 
 From wing of love to give me flight. 
 
 My native hills, I weep, I groan, 
 
 I feel, ay, wretchedly alone ! 
 
 Will ye be green to mock my broken heart ? 
 
 O ! hills of Gyppeswycke, depart ! depart ! 
 
 Ye walls monastic, here and there. 
 With turrets rising in the air ; 
 Sure not in England can be found. 
 Town with more consecrated ground. 
 The streets are lost, they seem so small. 
 Before the space ye claim for wall ! 
 Are monks and friars in their cells so free. 
 They do but laugh at such a wretch as me ? 
 
90 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 So let them laugh with sidelong glance, 
 
 I do detest their ignorance ! 
 
 Oh ! if my soul could gain its hope, 
 
 I'd give my native town some scope 
 
 For learning, far above the trash 
 
 Of superstitious, tasteless hash ! 
 
 But woe is me ! I know not where to go. 
 
 To soothe the torment of this deadly blow. 
 
 Thou stream majestic ! Orwell's tide, 
 Why dost thou here so gently glide ? 
 And wash, with waves as soft as down, 
 The borders of my native town ? 
 Have I thy bosom breasted well. 
 With gently undulating swell. 
 And shall I never more thy waters press ? 
 Oh, Orwell ! rob me of this deep distress ! 
 
 I'd kiss thy waves ! I'd bow my knee. 
 
 Could' st thou relieve mine agony ; 
 
 But now thy smile ungracious is. 
 
 And speaks to me of other's bliss ; 
 
 Whilst I, who loved thy waters green. 
 
 Am desolate and lonely seen. 
 
 O ! ye loved waters of my youthful day ! 
 
 Robbed of my love, how can ye love display ? 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 91 
 
 Thou winding Gipping, where I strayed. 
 
 In boyhood on thy slopes I played, 
 
 And loved to angle from thy banks. 
 
 And sportive in my childish pranks. 
 
 To gather wild flowers from thy side ; 
 
 How canst thou now my v/oes deride ? 
 
 Stream of mine infant steps, my tears would flow. 
 
 Were I beside thy gay banks walking now. 
 
 Yet thou dost move to meet the tide 
 
 Of Orwell's waters, like a bride 
 
 In garments white, and pure, and chaste. 
 
 Oh ! why so cheerful in thy haste ? 
 
 Ah ! there ye give the mutual kiss. 
 
 As that of matrimonial bliss. 
 
 And never parted, never know ye pain, 
 
 But flow united onward to the main. 
 
 Ye friends within my native town. 
 Me, kindly, ye are proud to own ; 
 A father's form was lately there. 
 With placid brow, and hoary hair. 
 He's gone where I shall shortly go. 
 And there but terminate my woe. 
 O, friends of youth ! I cannot now reveal. 
 The bitter anguish of my word, farewell ! 
 
92 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 Mother, ay, mother ! in thine heart 
 I found my own dear counterpart ; 
 For thou, in youth, wert all to me. 
 Until this eye had turn'd from thee. 
 To give admiring thoughts to one. 
 Who ne'er reflects them on thy son. 
 
 ! mother, mother, never shall I know 
 The heart's revival from this fatal blow. 
 
 Hills, woods, and valleys, is't a dream ? 
 
 Ye beauties of the Orwell's stream ! 
 
 Castles, and churches, monasteries. 
 
 And all your rich varieties. 
 
 Hereafter be ye dull to me. 
 
 No more your beauties let me see, 
 
 In aught that can another scholar move. 
 
 To taste the sweetness of this scene of love. 
 
 Ye smile so sweetly — not for me — 
 
 1 groan within to look on ye ; 
 Ye look so lovely, not to shine 
 On anything I welcome mine ; 
 Ye breathe so softly on mine ear, 
 Death seems to kill the atmosphere ; 
 Why do I not this moment here decay. 
 And, sighing, breathe my very soul away ^ 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 93 
 
 O, agony ! I turn mine eye 
 
 To dwell on distant turret high, 
 
 Where oft in joy extatic past, 
 
 I've hoped my happiness would last. 
 
 Where life with hope and love began, 
 
 Ambition roused the rising man. 
 
 O, darkest woe ! O, weary, dismal hour ! 
 
 I loved — and lost — the maid of Freston Tower. 
 
 Weep, eyelids, weep, your fountain dry, 
 
 Ye ne*er can soothe mine agony ; 
 
 Lips, never ope again to speak. 
 
 Save when the bursting heart will break ; 
 
 Tongue, cleave thou to thy parched roof, 
 
 And never give one lisping proof 
 
 That she I loved hath ne'er that love returned ; 
 
 My loss is greater than my love hath eam'd. 
 
 I cannot bear yon sails to see, 
 
 So smoothly gliding merrily ; 
 
 Time was, they gave me joy to view 
 
 Their contrast to the water's hue ; 
 
 And I was happy ! happy then ! 
 
 To know both boats, and sails, and men, 
 
 Now know I none ! and none can welcome give 
 
 To him who Soon this busy scene must leave. 
 
94 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 Oh ! whisper not, ye zephyrs mild. 
 
 Oh ! whisper not to man or child, 
 
 Nor tell it in my lady's bower — 
 
 To Ellen of De Freston's Tower ! 
 
 To friend, or father, that I sigh 
 
 For her with deepest agony ; 
 
 Let not the noble or his daughter know, 
 
 That Wolsey suffers from a rival's blow 
 
 I'll far away for ever flee 
 From this unknown catastrophe ! 
 I'll seek in science my relief ! 
 Science will only swell my grief ; 
 I'll court the cloister, try the priest. 
 All will believe I loved it best ! 
 That my celibacy, for conscience sake. 
 Is for the holy orders I would take. 
 
 I'll rule my will, I'll curb my love, 
 
 I'll bow submissive as the dove ; 
 
 O, Ellen ! yes, for thee I bow, 
 
 And never, never shalt thou know, 
 
 Till in another world we meet, 
 
 How sad the heart thou could'st not greet ! 
 
 Deep in my soul thy virtues I can feel. 
 
 But, that I love thee, tongue shall never tell ! 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 95 
 
 Farewell, my friend ! thou shalt not know 
 How thy success has caused me woe ; 
 Though, like Prometheus, I am chained, 
 I'll kindle fire which none have gained. 
 For all shall see, and all partake 
 The sacrifice I then shall make ; 
 O, Latimer ! my friendship thou wilt prove, 
 May'st thou ne'er feel the agony of love ! 
 
 My native town, my native wave. 
 
 My native hills, my parent's grave. 
 
 My friends of youth, my days of joy,' 
 
 My hopes of fame, my life's alloy. 
 
 My woes, my cares, my fears, my sighs. 
 
 My sorrows, and my agonies. 
 
 Must bend to fate, and future years must tell 
 
 How my soul loved ye, when I said farewell ! 
 
 This poem is extracted from one many 
 hundred lines long, which when a poetical 
 age shall come, may, perhaps, many years 
 hence be thought a great curiosity. It is 
 in the possession of a gentleman who will 
 doubtless preserve it, if he does not pubHsh 
 it. 
 
96 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 This portion seems to be written upon 
 Wolsey's property upon Stoke HiU, at the 
 very spot, where the high windmill, called 
 Savage's Mill, afterwards stood — perhaps 
 may now stand; and where the miller, if 
 at all like Constable, the miller's son, one 
 of our favourite British landscape painters, 
 could not have failed often to have wit- 
 nessed the beauty of the scene as described 
 in Wolsey's lament. 
 
 It was soon after one of his longest 
 reveries in this spot, that he received a 
 message from Bishop GoldweU to go to 
 him at GoldweU HaU, and Dame Joan 
 informed him, that the Bishop was accom- 
 panied in his call that day, by a very fine 
 young woman his niece, Alice De Clinton. 
 There is a mood in a man, most strangely 
 wayward, which prompts him to take a 
 sudden thing into his head which he had 
 for a long while rejected. The cup of woe, 
 which men are made to drink, often for their 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 97 
 
 good, is very bitter and if the soul seeks 
 not God for aid, it will be led only into 
 further misery which it sees not, until, like 
 an Alpine avalanche, it becomes overwhel- 
 ming in its fall. In the humour Wolsey 
 was in, he instantly determined to go, and 
 stay at Goldwell Hall. 
 
 What a sudden change ! The Bishop 
 was a personal stranger to him. His vanity 
 was perhaps touched by the attention as 
 a compliment to his abihties. He thought 
 not one moment of his refusal to visit 
 Freston Tower : but to the astonishment of 
 Dame Joan he immediately consented, and 
 became that very day a guest, and indeed 
 an honoured guest at the Bishop's Palace, 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
98 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CHANGES. 
 
 Bishop Goldwell who had been Secre- 
 tary of State, and was as good a judge of 
 character as any man, pronounced Wolsey to 
 be a man of a thousand: for he said, to 
 his cousin Nicholas Goldwell, whom he made 
 his archdeacon : 
 
 " He is a man equal to any emergency. 
 He has a genius adapted for enterprise; a 
 spirit equal to the highest actions — and 
 a perfect knowledge of men, and a good ad- 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 99 
 
 dress. Nicholas, thou wilt do well to culti- 
 vate that man's acquaintance !" 
 
 When Wolsey attended at the private 
 mansion of Bishop Goldwell, he was received 
 with all courtesy. 
 
 Wolsey's character began to show itself 
 powerfully, at that period. He assumed 
 a courteous manner, which he ever after 
 maintained, winning affection from those 
 who became attached to him. He had ease, 
 a commanding voice, and very dexterous 
 address. He was refined in the choice of 
 his words, which he pronounced with the 
 most persuasive accent. His knowledge was 
 vast, and his powers active. In a word, 
 he won the Bishop's heart, and he was him- 
 self won also. 
 
 It was a singular circumstance, that the 
 lofty demeanovir he thought proper to observe 
 to the pale Alice De Clinton, made that 
 haughty lady bow before him. There was 
 a self-possession about this handsome young 
 
 F 2 
 
100 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 man, that made Alice think she had never 
 before seen such a personification of dignity. 
 In one moment she was made to perceive 
 that she was in the presence of a man, 
 whose pride of heart was greater than her 
 own. 
 
 " Never," said the Lady Alice to her uncle, 
 *' did I behold such a compound of style, 
 and majesty in any man !" 
 
 *'Nor I either, Alice: and I can tell thee, 
 moreover, that this outward appearance doth 
 not, as in sycophants, form a covering for 
 ignorance, for Wolsey is internally the man 
 he appears. He has knowledge, intellect, 
 and perception, such as I never met with 
 in all my diplomatic acquaintance, and I 
 have seen a little of the world, Mistress 
 Alice !" 
 
 " Thou hast shown me a little of men and 
 manners, but none that have interested me 
 as Wolsey has." 
 
 ^* Alice, take care ! I have already de- 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 101 
 
 signed this youth for Rome. He must go 
 thither ; he must be seen of learned men ! 
 I find he loves the church, and is disposed 
 to be a priest. I have pointed out to his 
 ambitious soul the dignities, honours and 
 emoluments which the Pope of Rome has 
 to bestow. His breast seems fired with a 
 holy flame, and thou must not interfere 
 with it." 
 
 " Oh, fear not my Lord Bishop and worthy 
 uncle, fear not my influence over such a 
 man. I have too much regard for our 
 Holy Mother Church, ever to think of 
 disqualifying him for taking the vows of 
 service to the Pope. He is far too high to 
 be ever tempted to his fall from such a 
 post ; and I should be the last to ofl'er him 
 such temptation." 
 
 " Well said, my niece ! thou hast a good 
 sound heart !" 
 
 " I am astonished, uncle, that Latimer 
 should have ventured to quote such a man. 
 
102 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 as entertaining any heretical opinions, con- 
 cerning Church views. It appears to me, 
 that Wolsey would in one moment have 
 annihilated the arguments of that clique, 
 who were so bold for innovations." 
 
 "I am certainly agreeably surprised to 
 find this youth so firm. I had fears indeed 
 as to his being of that wavering disposition 
 which is beginning to be prevalent. But 
 in all my conversations with him upon 
 affairs of state, books, men, and things, 
 I find him a perfectly congenial spirit; and 
 nothing in the least heretical in his views. 
 He is like Latimer in one respect, in his 
 contempt of the monkish follies of the 
 overgrown superstition of the Abbots of 
 Bury." 
 
 "But dost not thou agree with him 
 therein ?" 
 
 "I do, for the most part ; but not in all 
 things. He is a young man, Alice, and will 
 think differently as he grows older." 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 103 
 
 " I hope he will be a great man. I think 
 he will ; for I can scarcely imagine the Pope 
 to be more dignified." 
 
 " Hush, Alice ! hush ! It must be many, 
 many years before Wolsey could have any 
 claim to the Popedom; and there may be 
 many changes before that time. Thou 
 mayst live to see it. I shall not !" 
 
 And here the conversation dropped. 
 
 Nothing could have hitherto been more 
 disposed to the widest and most liberal scope 
 of ecclesiastical polity, than Thomas Wolsey. 
 He had repeatedly conversed with Ellen, 
 Latimer, and Lord De Freston upon the 
 many impositions of the Popedom ; so much 
 so, that all Oxford had been aUve to the 
 views which Wolsey had so manfully ex- 
 pounded, and treated of so truthfully, that 
 reformers began to think the learned scholar 
 of Ipswich would be a host in himself. But 
 then his views had Ellen De Freston in the 
 foreground ; and he found himself anxious to 
 
104 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 propagate the love of truth above every 
 other consideration. Ellen de Freston had 
 vanished ; and the Pope had taken her place. 
 Certainly, a less pleasant object, but the 
 spiritual ambition inspired by his view 
 seemed to soften, or rather harden, the 
 regrets which arose from disappointed love. 
 Wolsey was now a different man. His 
 conversations with Bishop Gold well, con- 
 firmed him in his altered prospects. The 
 Pope's supremacy became his favourite 
 theme ; and a few weeks before, the man 
 who had no intention of ever becoming a 
 priest, was now ordained by Bishop Gold- 
 well, and soon after took his departure for 
 Oxford, where he became as celebrated in 
 the defence of the Pope, as he had been 
 conspicuous for a more enlightened 
 polity. 
 
 Men's circumstances do sometimes make 
 them change their opinions; but those 
 opinions could never have been based upon 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 105 
 
 the immutable grounds of truth, which could 
 be changed with any change of outward 
 circumstances, that vary as the wind. But 
 the mischief was done. The change had 
 taken place ; and Wolsey had left Ipswich 
 before Lord De Freston became acquainted 
 with the fact. Wolsey, after his return to 
 College, pursued his career of tuition with 
 the utmost diligence, and became the tutor of 
 the sons of the Marquis of Dorset. Few 
 who came under his care, could fail to 
 improve in the elegancies of literature, as well 
 as in knowledge of the world. 
 
 His sudden departure for the seat of 
 learning was attributed to his shock at his 
 father's death by some, yet his total absence 
 from the society of his friends at Freston 
 was considered a remarkable thing ; but when 
 men understood that he had entered the 
 priest's office, they concluded that the separa- 
 tion of friendship arose from some dissimila- 
 rity of views upon matters of religion. Lord 
 
 F 3 
 
106 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 De Freston, after the celebrated discussion at 
 the palace of Wykes', had given an invitation 
 to those two champions of truth, Bale and 
 Bilney, to partake of the hospitality of his 
 mansion. It was here, during the slow pro- 
 gress of Latimer's recovery, that these honest 
 friends took it by turns to read and converse 
 with the learned scholar upon the sick-bed. 
 
 Men, whose hearts are thankful to God for 
 his signal preservation of them in time of 
 extreme danger, are always ready to exclaim, 
 '* O, what shall I say unto thee, thou pre- 
 server of men 1" Latimer's mind and soul 
 were full of thankfulness. He was more 
 learned than his visitors, but not more 
 sincere. Men of strong minds with a just 
 abhorrence of deceit, and superstition, and a 
 fervent desire for greater grace and know- 
 ledge of God, could not but be edified when 
 they came to converse of His mercies. The 
 hearts of these friends being given to God, 
 were thankful every hour ; for their converse 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 107 
 
 was of that holy, pure, and lovely cast, which 
 was sure to derive fresh vigour from the 
 expanded view of mercy displayed before 
 them. 
 
 It was in one of these afternoon visits, 
 that Latimer heard from Daundy of his 
 friend. 
 
 " I have observed," he said, " ever since 
 his father's death, that Thomas has been shy 
 of all his friends, that he has been moody 
 and melancholy, and very different towards 
 his mother. He used to be of a free and 
 open disposition ; was glad of the society of 
 his relatives, and especially of those who 
 dwelt here ; to whom he owes so m.uch more 
 than he can repay." 
 
 " I have heard," said Bale, '' that he is 
 ambitious, very ambitious; and the Church 
 of Rome, and the Papal Hierarchy afford a 
 magnificent field for the ambition of a man 
 of Wolsey's abilities ; but I do not envy him. 
 He must submit to many impositions, must 
 
108 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 practice many deceits, must wink at many 
 fooleries, and with his mind, can hardly put 
 up with such unmeaning ceremonies as he 
 must daily behold." 
 
 " You know him not, my friend," replied 
 Latimer. " Wolsey is a very determined 
 man, firm in his purpose, and if he should 
 rise to power, will do much good. I grieve 
 we have not seen him. I should like to 
 have held converse with him upon these 
 matters, which we have all so pleasantly 
 discussed. God grant him grace." 
 
 "Amen," was the response from every 
 heart. 
 
 But fears were then entertained by those 
 who knew nothing personally of the young 
 priest, that he would not do much good to 
 the cause of Christianity, however devoted he 
 might become to the Papal religion. Rome 
 and her errors; her idolatries, her supersti- 
 tions, her infidelities, absurdities, abuses, and 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 109 
 
 anti-Christian practices, were now freely 
 discussed ; and many a deep sigh escaped the 
 souls of those men; when they reflected upon 
 the probability of some dreadful persecution 
 arising, to oppose the love of God, and his 
 commandments, by the malice and inven- 
 tions of men. 
 
 "I know not," said Bilney, "if in this 
 land, we shall ever see the Church purified 
 from its corruptions. I cannot bear to see 
 the Grace of God changed into unmeaning 
 ceremonies, pompous penances, bead count- 
 ing, prayer-doling, fines, stripes, penalties, 
 punishments, fastings, feastings, pilgrimages, 
 and such a countless variety of ignorant and 
 wicked inventions, as contrary to nature and 
 religion as light is to darkness. I cannot 
 bear to see those priests with their heads 
 shorn, their long rows of black beads hanging 
 down to their feet, their stuff gowns, cowls 
 and cassocks, passing along the streets, and 
 
110 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 requiring of every man they meet a genu- 
 flection, at the sign of the cross they carry 
 in their hands. I saw one yesterday seize a 
 poor, ignorant, half-witted feUow who did not 
 make obeisance to him, with violent anger, 
 more like a demon — oh ! how abhorrent to 
 the idea of a minister of Christ — cast him to 
 the earth, and made him kneel in the mud 
 and kiss the cross he held in his hand. The 
 poor fellow trembled exceedingly, and took 
 the cuffs and kicks of the priest as if he 
 were a dumb ass. I felt as a brother towards 
 the poor man ; I lifted him up, and, despite 
 the furious madness of the priest, I told him 
 to his face that he deserved to be punished 
 by the civil power for his violence. He 
 dared not strike me ; I believe he knew me, 
 for he said : 
 
 " * Heretic ! thou shalt answer for this 
 interference. The civil power! I defy the 
 civil power ! It has no authority over Rome ! 
 
FRESTON TOWER 111 
 
 Thou shalt find that it shall avail thee 
 nothing T And he shook his garments 
 in his rage. Oh ! what passion lurked 
 under that revengeful soul ! I walked 
 away with the poor man, and may expect 
 some visitation for this act of common huma- 
 nity." 
 
 " I have already had the complaint made 
 to the civil authorities, and it is said that 
 thou, Bilney, didst violently assail the priest 
 in the discharge of what he considered his 
 religious duty. He maintained that the man 
 was confessing to him a crime." 
 
 " It was seen by many. Some blessed me 
 for this act — surely they will come forward 
 and speak the truth !" 
 
 " Such is the terror of a man's mind at 
 being denounced as a heretic, that I question 
 whether any townsman in the borough dare 
 come forward and say that the priest was in 
 the wrong." 
 
112 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 " This, O, worthy magistrate ! this is the 
 state of religion in Ipswich, that oppression 
 is to be exercised in broad day, and the 
 people see the violence, and dare not com- 
 plain. Oh, dreadful day ! when rulers shall 
 no longer be a terror to evil doers, but to 
 the innocent ; when the weak shaU be 
 without the protection of law, and priests 
 of fury predominate instead of the Gospel 
 and God's Grace. I pity thee, Mr. Daundy ! 
 I pity thee, as a magistrate, in such a 
 town !'* 
 
 " I fear, Bilney, I shaU one day have to 
 pity thee if the priests get thee into their 
 clutches. What wilt thou answer to Bishop 
 GoldweUj against a host of witnesses which 
 they vdll take care to bring against 
 thee ?" 
 
 "What? but that I am innocent, and 
 appeal to the lav^s for protection !" 
 
 Daundy shook his head significantly, for 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 113 
 
 he well knew the little chance which any 
 individual had, if accused by the priests of 
 Rome, of any crime contrary to their 
 canons. The civil authorities might exercise 
 their jurisdiction over the people, but eccle- 
 siastics of Rome submitted not to their laws. 
 Bilney was strongly urged to go into 
 Cambridgeshire, to his friend Arthur, lest 
 the cause of the Reformation, then beginning 
 to dawn, should lose his services by his being 
 cast into prison. 
 
 Conscious innocence is very bold. It may 
 retire until called forth to suffer ; but when 
 its possessor is wanted, he wiU be found equal 
 to the emergency for which he is required. 
 By innocence in this sense, is not meant 
 entire freedom from in-dwelling sin; but 
 innocence and uprightness of faith, which 
 hates to see another suffering wrongfully 
 without secretly desiring to defend him against 
 the oppressor. 
 
114 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 Bilney and Bale spent many days with 
 Latimer and Lord De Freston, who began 
 at this period, in consequence of the mercy 
 and pity he shewed to these men, to be 
 suspected of heresy. They escaped this 
 time from persecution, much through the 
 respect which all men paid to Edmund 
 Daundy, at Ipswich ; who, though an en- 
 lightened man, was considered to be a good 
 Churchman. 
 
 A good, benevolent, and charitable man 
 he was, as thousands have found who lived 
 to be partakers of his bounty long after his 
 death ; and even at this day, through all 
 the various changes of laws, customs, religious 
 persuasions, and alterations of time, Daundy's 
 charity is dispensed. 
 
 That Lord De Freston and his lovely 
 daughter profited greatly by the con- 
 versation of those days, their future atten- 
 tions to these good men plainly proved. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 115 
 
 They never forgot the days of Latimer's 
 recovery. 
 
 They were happy days to Ellen, and 
 not less so to the scholar, who daily grew 
 in every grace which could adorn either his 
 private or public character. 
 
 Life is very sweet to men who can feel 
 they are improving it for eternity. It is 
 sweet, because they walk in the ways of 
 pleasantness and peace, notwithstanding the 
 persecutions of those who know not 
 God. 
 
 Latimer was a young man, with views 
 then before him of the most brilliant kind 
 on earth. His own father was a man of 
 good property, having an hereditary estate 
 of considerable worth in those days, and he 
 had the prospect of marrying one in every 
 way gifted with grace and qualities of mind, 
 independently of large possessions in the 
 county of Suffolk; so that he might be 
 
116 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 said to have earthly hopes beyond the common 
 lot of man. Yet Latimer argued very justly, 
 when he said to Ellen one day, as he sat in 
 Freston Tower, and looked upon the 
 waves : 
 
 " What would all these things have been 
 to me — nay, dearest EUen ! and what 
 wouldst thou have been to me — had God 
 seen fit to let me sink to the bottom of the 
 waves, on that memorable night, when I 
 was so mercifully preserved ?" 
 
 " I can only say, Latimer, that we must 
 be ready to part with everything, at every 
 moment ; for they are none of them our 
 own," said Ellen, " and learn to give 
 ourselves and all we have into His 
 hands." 
 
 " True wisdom, my dear. May I never 
 forget the changes which have been wrought 
 within these few weeks ! May I ever re- 
 member the Lord's hand, accept all I have 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 117 
 
 as from Him, do all I do as unto Him, and 
 yield aU my thoughts, hopes and wishes to 
 His wiU !'' 
 
 " Ah, dear Latimer ! in such a faith, 
 how delightful it is to wait all our appointed 
 time, until our change comes !" 
 
 It would be useless to give the account 
 of Latimer's journey to Padua, his inter\dew 
 with Erasmus, his giving up his Fellowship 
 at All-Souls', Oxford, and his return to 
 Ipswich after these things. 
 
 Strange changes quickly followed, which 
 shall be discussed as more in accordance with 
 the narrative. 
 
118 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AFFECTIONS. 
 
 Youth has powerful struggles with itself 
 to command its various affections in the 
 order of wisdom. Early education, it is 
 well known, not only from the wisest man's 
 declaration, but from the world's constant 
 experience, will do much in the tuition of 
 self-governance. Men talk of tempers, 
 passions, and affections, as if they were 
 the predominant powers over the soul. 
 These may be all-subdued and brought into 
 subjection by the constant exercise of prayer 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 119 
 
 for grace. A man always does well to 
 subdue his natural infirmities of temper, 
 and to pray against their power, to control 
 his passions, and to calm his affections. 
 He cannot do these things without help. 
 
 Wolsey's was a wonderfully strong mind 
 in his youth. Yet he had very violent 
 passions, as men of great talents frequently 
 have. He fled to Oxford for occupation; 
 devoted himself with ardour to his classical 
 pursuits, became bursar of his college, built 
 the famous Magdalen Tower, and instructed 
 the Marquis of Dorset's children, in his 
 school, and yet was not the happy man he 
 looked to be. Though methodical in all he 
 did, his spirit was not gifted with hu- 
 miUty. 
 
 He was very proud of his tower, spared 
 no expense from the college funds, or 
 from his own private purse, and was very 
 angry with the president and fellows for 
 accusing him of extravagance, when he 
 
120 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 knew that he was doing all he could for 
 the future honour and ornament of his 
 college. He suffered at this time a very 
 great deal of mortification, and, in 
 writing to his mother, confessed that 
 he was almost tired of his coUege 
 career. 
 
 Latimer wrote to him repeatedly; but, 
 as may be supposed, this was no particular 
 comfort to his proud but disappointed spirit. 
 To be reminded of Freston Tower, and of 
 the days of his youthful ambition, when he 
 was in his lonely coUege-room, or walking 
 in the gloomy cloisters, was indeed vexatious 
 to his haughty and unsubdued soul. This, 
 however, was nothing compared with the 
 trial he had afterwards to endure, the very 
 bitterest which the human heart has to 
 suffer. It was occasioned by the following 
 conversation : 
 
 " Let us ride to meet our uncle ; he is 
 coming to-day, according to his promise. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 121 
 
 to stay with us for two or three days," 
 said Lord De Freston, " and I have no 
 doubt we shall enjoy his conversation. He 
 has seen the purchase of Sir Antony Wing- 
 field's house completed for me, and when 
 the time comes, my dear children, for your 
 marriage, I hope you will find that house 
 in Ipswich convenient for your abode. I 
 cannot part with you for a greater distance, 
 as your society is necessary to my happi- 
 ness." 
 
 " And why should you, father ? Latimer 
 and I ought to count it our peculiar privilege 
 to be able, at any time, to promote the 
 comfort of one who has been so kind a 
 protector and parent to us both. But look, 
 dear father ! I can see our uncle riding along 
 the strand, beyond the bounds of the park. 
 There he is, with his faithful wolf-dog by 
 his side." 
 
 "You are right, Ellen, there is no mis- 
 taking his long gallop. The horse, dog, and 
 
 VOL. II. G 
 
122 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 master, are alike eminent of their kind. 
 Daundy is a fine specimen of an English- 
 man, in person, and in heart. His horse 
 is of Flanders breed, and quite what a 
 horse should be, in bone, figure, and action. 
 And his dog, though of the largest and 
 roughest Irish breed, is one of the most 
 sagacious I ever beheld. I am not surprised, 
 remembering the attack of the mastiff, that 
 any of his breed should be no favourite with 
 him. He w^ould never go out without him. 
 There must be a patch of rushes laid for him 
 at his master's door. This shall be my care. 
 Come, Ellen, you and Latimer must ride to 
 meet him." 
 
 It was not long before horse and groom 
 appeared at the castle gate; and Ellen and 
 the happy Latimer cantered along that 
 beautiful park, their steeds as happy as 
 themselves to enjoy their pleasant freedom. 
 As the greensward was open before them, 
 they did not follow the stately road from the 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 123 
 
 hall, but bounded along, sometimes passing 
 under the shade of the knotted oak whence 
 darted the old English red deer, then the 
 graceful tenant of the borders of the 
 Orwell. 
 
 It was a lovely scene ; youth, health, and 
 cheerful spirits together, with that unison of 
 mind which existed with them, made the sun 
 shine pleasanter, the trees look more green, 
 and the very sod over which they cantered 
 more soft. They descended from the last 
 long sweeping hill to the park-gates on a 
 level with the shore, which were opened by 
 one of the worn-out foresters, whose youthful 
 days had been spent in the service of the 
 grand father of De Freston, and whose hoary 
 head now bent in the service of the last of 
 the De Frestons. As the old man doffed his 
 green cap to the young people, they drew 
 in the rein to speak to him. 
 
 " Allen ! how are you to-day ?" said 
 EUen." 
 
 G 2 
 
124 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 " Thank you, kind mistress ; all the better 
 for the good things you sent me. My old 
 dame is laid upon her bed, or would be here 
 to make her duty and reverence." 
 
 "I am glad she rests. Do not disturb 
 her. We shall be back again, presently." 
 
 " Blessings on you, I could stand here for 
 your return, could I but see you all the way 
 you go." 
 
 " That you will do better, Allen, from your 
 lodge-window, therefore go in." 
 
 *' A happy old man is that," said Latimer 
 to Ellen as they rode away from the old 
 gothic-carved and massive gates, and turned 
 their horses' heads to the shore. The 
 praises of the poor are not always to be had 
 for money. The master may bestow all his 
 gifts to feed them ; and yet not be charitable 
 towards them. To bestow injudiciously, or 
 indiscriminately, however bountiful the gift, 
 will often create desires, and jealousies, which 
 will not admit of thankfulness." 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 125 
 
 " I agree with you, and on this very 
 ground has my father acted in all his 
 distributions of charity. Long service and 
 fidelity he rewards. Industry, honesty, and 
 cleanliness, he upholds. Laziness he would 
 suffer to starve before he would supply food 
 for its discontent ; and I can tell you, more- 
 over, that not one single donation would he 
 bestow upon any of the mendicant order, 
 now travelling the country under the garb of 
 holy vows. No, not though they repeat the 
 " Pater Noster," "Ave Maria" or shew their 
 bare feet blistered with their self-devoted 
 journeying." 
 
 " I sigh to see talents prostrated to beggary 
 and superstition as they are in our day. Reli- 
 gion, Ellen, is become a superstitious torment, 
 rather than a holy comfort. Men seem to me 
 to be under a curse rather than a blessing, 
 and to walk trembling from fear of different 
 fraternities, more than in the love of God. 
 Oh ! Ellen, when 1 see, as, alas ! I too often 
 
126 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 do, men and women entering the dark cells 
 of our monastic institutions, and with bare 
 feet walking along the dark aisles and cloisters, 
 and bowing at the tomb of corruption, them- 
 selves overcome by the sombre shades of the 
 cold, silent, superstitious places in which they 
 move, I often think how poor must be 
 their conceptions of the God of light, if they 
 can confine their notions of Him to the 
 cloister ?" 
 
 ** Go on, William, I can see that you are 
 surveying the heavens and thinking of the 
 immensity of our Creator." 
 
 " I am, dearest Ellen, and of his goodness 
 as well. Oh ! what temple is so magnificent 
 as that whose height is the highest heaven, 
 and whose footstool is the earth. What 
 dark houses those must be which we build 
 to his honour, compared with the glory of 
 that which he has built for himself. I do 
 survey the heavens, the work of His hands ; 
 the sun, moon, stars, and things which He 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 127 
 
 has created ; and but that I know He loves 
 his creatures, and has given us such proof of 
 His love, I confess I dare not look at his 
 Majesty even in these his works, without the 
 most awful trembhng. But God is love, 
 Ellen, and this love is manifested in his Son, 
 whom He gave to death for the salvation of 
 our souls. If men did but love one another 
 for this great salvation O, Ellen, we should 
 see but little of those terrors and abuses 
 which now threaten the world." 
 
 " Heartily do I wish they may perceive His 
 love, Latimer ; but we have a strange enemy 
 to oppose us, who exercises such great in- 
 fluence upon our passions, that he fills us 
 with prejudices instead of persuasions. 
 We must not forget to watch against our 
 enemy." 
 
 " I thank you, Ellen ! Love is so good 
 to all, that I had almost so far lost sight 
 of our tormentor, as to imagine that man's 
 sins came from himself We have indeed 
 
128 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 an enemy to contend with. One who can 
 transform himself into an angel of light to 
 deceive us ; and speak against himself as if 
 he would hate himself, and all but to 
 implant rebellion in our hearts. I thank 
 you, EUen — I must not forget to watch 
 him." 
 
 " Oh ! thank not me, I did but repeat your 
 own lesson which you gave to our friends the 
 other day, when you warned them to remem- 
 ber, that to effect good is never to make 
 use of the wrath of man; for that Satan 
 sets the world on fire through his influence 
 over the tongue. I thought your argument 
 excellent, and you see I have profited by it." 
 
 " May I ever be such a preacher, and 
 you as attentive a listener, and when I 
 forget the doctrines which I teach, do you 
 bring them to my mind, even with a just 
 reproof, and I will thank God, for giving me 
 such a counsellor. But see, here comes your 
 uncle." 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 129 
 
 Along that strand, and a very few paces 
 from the waves of the Orwell, was seen 
 the well-known figure of the venerable 
 but active Edmund Daundy, a man whose 
 name will long live in the town of Ipswich, 
 as connected with its welfare, with the 
 early education of the learned Wolsey, and 
 with every charity in the town. He had 
 an only son, who was then in Holland, per- 
 fecting the trade of the port of Ipswich 
 with the rich burghers of Amsterdam, and 
 as he was amassing wealth in that country, 
 and had formed a domestic connexion there, 
 the father only held him to his promise, 
 that he would not forget the place of his 
 nativity, but would, in any case of dispute 
 between the nations, return, and dwell at 
 Ipswich. And he did so in after years ; 
 when the fine old man, now galloping his 
 black horse along the strand, was gathered 
 to his fathers. 
 
 G 3 
 
130 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 Galloping, or rather cantering with long 
 strides, came the long maned charger, with 
 the grey and shaggy wolf-dog keeping pace 
 beside him. That was a dog but seldom 
 seen in these days, except upon the heights 
 of Snowden, or the wild districts of the 
 Highlands of Scotland. The old Irish elk 
 hound is the most like him, though this 
 has become almost extinct. Power, activity, 
 energy, and sagacity, were the characteristic, 
 of the old English wolf-dog. Even the 
 mastiff, and the blood-hound were no match 
 for him. He was a picture of terrific 
 ferocity, when once he stood erect, the colour 
 and mane of the hyena upon his back, 
 with head and tail, uplift like the lion. 
 His bushy rudder, however, was more like 
 that of the Newfoundland, his head was 
 shaped like the grey-hound, and his limbs 
 calculated for an enduring chase. 
 
 Caesar looked up at the comers, and for a 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 131 
 
 moment paused, and stretched himself upon 
 the sand, as the friends reined in their 
 steeds for the cheerful greeting. 
 
 Hands and hearts were united in wel- 
 come, and Ellen remarked. " Even Caesar, 
 looks complaisant." 
 
 " He loves a run, my young friends, as 
 well as you or I, the ride. Csesar," and 
 at the sound of his master's voice, Caesar's 
 shaggy feet were on his master's stirrup, and 
 his long head beneath his glove, " Caesar, 
 these are my friends. Fall back ! fall back !" 
 and the faithful dog took his place at 
 his master's heels, as with slow paces, the 
 party proceeded towards Freston Tower. 
 
 " I am coming to the castle to-day upon 
 very particular business, in which I suspect 
 that you, my young friends, are both con- 
 cerned. I have completed the purchase of 
 Brook Street House, and have forwarded 
 the title deeds by my servant, with my 
 
132 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 baggage. I hope you will both live long 
 and happily as my neighbours." 
 
 Let those who have ever been in si- 
 milar situations, and have found a friend 
 to take a lively interest in their happiness, 
 suggest the reply. It would not be very 
 studied; but rather the expressions of mu- 
 tual gratitude, than which no man can hear 
 anything more pleasant. 
 
 " I am beyond measure distressed, Lati- 
 mer," said Daundy, " at the abrupt depar- 
 ture of Thomas Wolsey. Never found I 
 such a transformation of character in any 
 man as in him. Dame Joan tells me, life 
 and animation were completely gone, as far 
 as regarded his spirit ; that he was more 
 like a being entranced than the lively boy 
 of former days. Was he ever subject to 
 depression ?" 
 
 " I have known it occasionally so at 
 Oxford : but I attributed it to over-anxiety 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 133 
 
 in his studies, and the deep interest he 
 took in University proceedings, more than 
 any constitutional affection. I have ever 
 found at such times, that my friendly chat 
 of Ipswich, and his friends, have had the 
 effect of raising his spirit. 
 
 " These things seem now to have lost 
 their charm," replied Ellen. "I fear we 
 shall have but little influence over him, as 
 he has rejected us all for Goldwell, and the 
 cloister." 
 
 "Had I not known that he had taken 
 orders, I might have suspected that some 
 other attraction induced him to pay such 
 deference to the Bishop's Court. I hear 
 that AHce De Clinton has been subdued 
 by him." 
 
 " Is it possible ? What in Wolsey could 
 have made Alice bend ?" 
 
 " I know not. Mistress Ellen. All ladies 
 bend to those they admire ; and this digni- 
 
134 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 fied and cold statue may see a charm in 
 Wolsey of the same kind as that you have 
 seen in Latimer." 
 
 " Oh ! would it might be so ; but how can 
 that be, my dear friend, when Wolsey has 
 received at the hands of her uncle that 
 only barrier between their affections — ordina- 
 tion — and its consequent celibacy ?" 
 
 "That is to me the mystery! I hear 
 that Alice never was so enlivened by any 
 man's society as by his. Her cousin Arch- 
 deacon Goldwell told me, that Thomas had 
 most wonderfully improved her disposition, 
 and by the simple means of not appearing 
 to know she was ever present. All courtesy 
 he paid to the Bishop. All attention to 
 his visitors. He shone in conversation, 
 erudition, policy, and Church Government, 
 and bitterly noticed the innovations of the 
 day. But he took no notice of Alice, and 
 might be said to be as contemptuous 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 135 
 
 towards all who approached her. Wolsey 
 was quite her master, and I hear the proud 
 damsel is sick at heart !" 
 
 Astonishment seemed the prevailing ex- 
 pression in the face of Ellen ; who probably 
 marvelled at Wolsey 's coldness towards 
 one, who was his superior in fortune and 
 rank. 
 
 De Freston came to meet his aged friend, 
 and then the young people were able to 
 converse by themselves. They came to the 
 conclusion that Alice De Clinton, had per- 
 suaded herself that Wolsey would be a 
 bishop, perhaps a Pope : and that she might 
 live to bask in the splendour of his great- 
 ness. 
 
 The Tower rose in grandeur amidst the 
 trees as the party approached the park, 
 when Lord De Freston, leaving the side of 
 his friend, hinted to Latimer, that he wished 
 for a private word with Ellen. 
 
 The young man rode forward, and Lord 
 
136 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 De Freston took his position by his 
 daughter's side. 
 
 " Ellen, my child, thou alone hast the 
 power to bring this young man to his 
 friends. I find, through the activity of your 
 uncle, that Brook Street House is ready for 
 your reception, and I, my child, am anxious 
 to see thee happy. Write thou to Wolsey, 
 tell him how glad thou wilt be to see him, 
 and say, that as he is so dear a friend to thee 
 and Latimer, it is my prayer to him, that 
 he will unite you at St. Lawrence Church in 
 the month following. I wiU add my petition, 
 and my faithful servant, Arthur, shall convey 
 to Oxford our united communication." 
 
 The letter was written, and all parties 
 united in the request that Lord De Freston 
 had suggested. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 137 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 THE LETTER. 
 
 WoLSEY is seated in his college-room over 
 the gateway leading into the principal quad- 
 rangle. He has been engaged, during the 
 day in superintending the schools attached 
 to the college, and has now thrown off his 
 heavy academical dress and broad hat, and 
 in a plain wooden chair without cushions, 
 but with back and arms, well polished, is 
 seated at a table inspecting the plans laid 
 before him for the finishing of the celebrated 
 Magdalen Tower. 
 
138 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 " Yes," exclaimed the delighted youth, as 
 he looked upon the plan with eager atten- 
 tion, " Latimer may surpass me in pleasing 
 Ellen; but I will be remembered when he 
 shall be forgotten. His tower may grace the 
 banks of the Orwell, and please his fair 
 mistress's eye, but this — this !" — again in- 
 specting the plain elevation, and the orna- 
 mental plans, " shall astonish even the eyes 
 of the university." 
 
 It seemed, however, that painful recollec- 
 tions arose as he viewed that work which 
 still stands in its lofty grandeur on the 
 borders of the Cherwell, at that day flowing 
 nearer to the tower than it now does. 
 
 " Certainly," he resumed, " the Cherwell 
 is not like the Orwell ; but Oxford shall 
 surpass Ipswich, and my tower shall put 
 Freston Tower in the shade. I will have a 
 grander room in the fifth story than Ellen 
 has in Latimer's tower. But shall I find 
 greater intelligence than I found there ? Ah ! 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 139 
 
 who knows, but that even Ellen De Freston 
 and Latimer may env^^ me the power I now 
 possess of making the entrance over Cher- 
 well Ford, into this renowned seat of 
 learning, more beautiful than anything of the 
 kind they have ever seen." 
 
 Long did the bursar dwell upon the 
 thought of his tower, and little did any one 
 in that college imagine that Wolsey's taste 
 for building received its first impulse from 
 recollections of admiration Ellen De Freston 
 had expressed, when that comparatively 
 insignificant tower, now standing on the 
 banks of the Orwell, was built. It is the 
 remembrances of early praise bestowed by 
 those he loves upon his youthful works, that 
 prompts the spirit of a man in after-years to 
 perform works still more worthy of admiration. 
 
 Wolsey's taste for building was first 
 displayed in the erection of Magdalen Tower. 
 He could now dwell upon great and am- 
 bitious thoughts, but not without connecting 
 
140 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 them with many pleasant reminiscences. As 
 he had taken holy orders, the future was 
 closed against him for every hope of domestic 
 comfort. He was forbidden, by his vows, to 
 think of woman, as the sharer of his cares or 
 the promoter of his comforts. He had once 
 thought of one whose mental qualifications 
 bade fair to give a zest to his whole life ; but 
 William Latimer had supplanted him, and 
 Ellen De Freston was happy. Well, was he 
 to be dissatisfied ? was he to pine away his 
 existence? were there to be no joys uncon- 
 nected with this fancy of his youth ? Alas ! 
 the very struggle of his proud heart and 
 susceptible nature told him how difficult a 
 thing it was to control the early impressions 
 of that pure attachment to which the God of 
 nature and of grace had made him subject. 
 
 At this period of Wolsey's life, there could 
 not have occurred a more congenial occupa- 
 tion than this project of the tower. It 
 accorded well with the thoughts of his heart 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 141 
 
 at that time ready for any enterprize. The 
 peciiliar pleasure he found in raising the 
 structure of Magdalen Tower was known 
 only to himself Ostensibly it was done for 
 the honour of his college, but more promi- 
 nently in his mind, existed the thought of 
 out-doing the work of his successful rival. 
 
 He had various plans presented to him, 
 but the one that pleased him best, was that 
 which reserved its ornaments for the highest 
 stories. " Man," he used to say, " is like a 
 building ; his life should begin upon a firm, 
 plain, solid foundation, and improve as he 
 advances, until he reaches maturity ; then, if 
 worth anything, he may crown his years with 
 the ornaments of existence, and shew forth 
 all his beauty and strength ; but if he begins 
 with ornaments, he will end in dulness." 
 
 His tower was an inimitable illustration of 
 this doctrine ; plain, solid, firm, and un- 
 adorned, it ascended from its basement to its 
 superstructure. Its architectural decorations 
 
142 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 were reserved for the fifth and upward 
 story. Alas! poor Wolsey. Like his cele- 
 brated tower, his splendour was reserved for 
 the highest pinnacles which, compared with 
 his basement, were sure to provoke envy. 
 The future Cardinal had then before him the 
 vision of fame, as connected only with Mag- 
 dalen Tower. He scraped together all the 
 funds which could be collected, he made half 
 the university subscribe to his project, 
 obtained all the fines he could, made the 
 tenants of Magdalen endowments pay a 
 certain bonus for the renewal of their tenures, 
 and for his pains drew a hornet's nest around 
 his head, even among the fellows of his own 
 college, who condemned his extravagance and 
 extortion, even whilst they openly admired 
 his project. Great men have always to 
 contend with little difficulties which plague 
 them very often, much more than obstacles of 
 greater magnitude. 
 
 In the midst of the scheme of the tower a 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 143 
 
 sudden and unexpected visitor was an- 
 nounced by the entrance of his long-coated 
 serving-man, who said, that a man from 
 Suffolk had arrived at the college gates, and 
 desired to see him instantly. 
 
 " ShaU I admit him at once. Sir ? He 
 comes upon a superb horse, and one which 
 must have a good master, for it is fat as our 
 Magdalen bucks, and sleek as the Vice-Chan- 
 ceUor." 
 
 "What can he want?" said Wolsey, to 
 himself, as his old servant, having received 
 his directions, descended the stone steps to 
 the magnificent portal of the College. 
 
 " I say. Mister !" said the Suffolk man, 
 who had travelled through many a muddy 
 lane, impassable to vehicles, to reach Oxford, 
 "is this the house Master Thomas Wolsey 
 Hvesin?" 
 
 " Yes it is, and if thou likest to remain 
 in it, we shall make thee welcome; our 
 
144 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 bursar never lacks hospitality to the 
 stranger ?" 
 
 " Is it possible that Master Wolsey can be 
 the owner of this palace ?" 
 
 " Ay, to be sure, part-owner, general 
 purveyor, and I'll warrant as good a master 
 as thou hast got." 
 
 " That remaineth to be proved though ; do 
 you see I've as good a master as a man 
 wants; and let me tell ye, time was that 
 your master owned my master for his lord, 
 and bowed his head to him, just as I'll 
 warrant you do to Master Wolsey. But 
 before I go along with you, you must along 
 with me, and shew me where the stables are; 
 for I should not like to rest on a good bed 
 myself and my poor horse be standing out all 
 night." 
 
 " Thou shalt find good accommodation for 
 man and beast. So lead thy horse along. 
 Our stables are as famous as our tables." 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 145 
 
 " Ah !" thought Arthur Burch, " Mistress 
 Ellen should see this house. I did not think 
 Master Thomas lived in such a place. I 
 don't wonder at his liking it." 
 
 The horse was soon stabled ; nor would 
 Arthur leave him until he had assisted the 
 far-famed grooms of Magdalen stables, to 
 give him a rub down. 
 
 Jokes, even in those precise and formal 
 days, one hostler would have with another ; 
 and it was no little amusement to the 
 knowing palls of the seat of learning to see 
 the country bumpkin mistake a college for 
 one man's palace. 
 
 " Your master's house," said Arthur, " is 
 larger than that of mine. Do all these 
 horses belong to him ?" 
 
 " Well, that's a good one. And to whom 
 dost thou suppose they should belong ? How 
 many horses has thy master ?" 
 
 " Four short of thine." 
 
 " Ha ! has thy master twelve ?" 
 
 VOL. II. H 
 
146 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 *' He has in all; if I take into the lump, 
 old Stumpy, the chesnut punch." 
 
 " What does he do with twelve horses ?" 
 
 "Why ride them, to be sure. What 
 does thy master do with his ?" 
 
 " Keep them for us to ride, to be sure !" 
 
 " Well, master does not ride all his horses. 
 There be three for my young mistress, three 
 for journeys, three for work, and three for 
 master. Occasionally, howsome'er, we all 
 mount in procession, and then we look as a 
 lord's retinue should look. Is Master Wol- 
 sey's stud as well employed ?'' 
 
 " Master is very good. He lets all gentle- 
 men who visit him in this great mansion 
 take a horse whenever they please. It is for 
 this reason thou seest so many saddles and 
 bridles on now. And hark ! John, thou'rt 
 called. Lead out the brown mare to the 
 block's foot and never mind the block- 
 head." 
 
 This was said with a knowing wink to 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 147 
 
 John Hibbert, the groom's boy, afterwards 
 Wolsey's state-groom, and was meant to 
 make a jest of Arthur Burch, in whose 
 simplicity, however, there was nothing to be 
 ashamed of. 
 
 It was the evening hour in which the 
 fellows of Magdalen indulged in the recrea- 
 tion of a summer's ride, then so frequent 
 along the banks of the Isis, that a man of 
 Magdalen was thought nothing of, except he 
 were an equestrian. Arthur was astounded 
 at the number of friends, serving-men, and 
 gentlemen acquaintances, which Master 
 Thomas Wolsey must have; and he be- 
 thought him then, what a famous thing it 
 must be to be a learned man. 
 
 Presently, he was soon conducted to the 
 stone staircase leading to the bursar's rooms, 
 and was confronted with the man, whom he 
 once looked upon as my lord's hanger on; 
 and now beheld, as he thought, the lord of 
 all that princely building. 
 
 H 2 
 
148 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 Wolsey started, as he recognized Lord De 
 Freston's servant. 
 
 " Arthur, what now ?" he exclaimed. 
 *' What brings thee out of Suffolk ?" 
 
 " My master's orders." 
 
 " Dost thou deliver them verbally ?" 
 
 " No sir, by letter." 
 
 Here he delivered one enclosed in a 
 leathern case which, though couched in 
 quaint terms, may not form an unpleasant 
 diversion to the reader. Its matter was of 
 sufficient moment to induce Wolsey to say : 
 
 '* Arthur, thou mayst retire ; my servant's 
 room is at the foot of the stairs. Tell him 
 thy wants and they shall be supplied." 
 
 *' Thank you, sir: but I shall want little 
 else than an answer to my lord's message. 
 I should like to see this fine house, and 
 something of the city. I hear ye be all very 
 learned people here." 
 
 " Peter will shew thee something of the 
 University. Thou mayst retire." 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 149 
 
 Arthur retired, filled with the most incon- 
 ceivable admiration of Master Thomas's 
 greatness; and soliloquised as he descended 
 the stone steps : 
 
 " I always said Master Thomas would be a 
 great man. He always walked like one, 
 spoke like one, and seemed so easy with all 
 great men, and so learned too ! No one can 
 be great without learning. It must be a fine 
 thing." 
 
 The letter was written in the following words: 
 
 To Thomas Wulcey, bye th'r hand of 
 Arthur Burch, oure survin-man. This 
 comeyth from Lord De Freston and 
 Ellen, his well-beloved daughter. 
 
 " We commende ourselves unto thee, 
 Thomas, in pease and love, and are well 
 assuride itt is noo lesse joye to thee to heare 
 fro' us than for us to hear fro' thee. In 
 truithe and honeur thou art much extemyde. 
 Wold it wor our fortune convenientlie to 
 
150 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 have sen thee when in our nebourhede, when 
 thou didst journey e last from Ox'nforde to 
 Ippyswiche. We heare that thou art a prest, 
 Thomas, devoted to hevyn. We do heare 
 this fro' thy mod'r Johan, and fro' thy 
 friende and uncle Edmunde Day n dye ; and 
 that Bushop Gouldwelle dyd ordayne thee. 
 We are informyde that thou art so con- 
 tentyde in this matter that the bushop's 
 haundes have ben doublee well bistowide. If 
 aU succede with thee w^ee shall rejoyce. Wee 
 wish thee prosesperous in thy determyning ; 
 and hope yt is for the beste for the Churche 
 sin thy learnin is gret and thy demenor 
 gude ; for ther levithe no man more hartilye 
 devotede to God. Wee wish to tell thee it 
 is in thy pow'r and provinc to serve us, by 
 givin us agen thy companie. And wee 
 think thou canst hardley deny'de us as wee 
 send all way to beseeche thee come. 
 
 " If itt soo had fortunyde that wee had sen 
 thee we wou'd have explaynede to thee what 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 151 
 
 wee now do. We hould thee to thy promyse 
 upon the holy ewangelysts to be presente at 
 the ceremonie of marrage whensoewer and 
 whersoewr suche shall take place tween Ellen 
 De Freston and whomsoweer it may be. 
 Now that thou art a prest, Thomas, wee 
 shall looke for thy help which we hope for at 
 St. Lawrence Churche in Ippyswiche the 
 XII day of next moneth. 
 
 "Willyam Latymer wrott latelie to thee, 
 as he haythe declayrede, telling thee how 
 muche he suffrid not hearinge from thee: 
 and then informynge thee of his plesure to 
 have thee his friende present at his nuptials. 
 Not doubtyng of thy mynde to promoat the 
 joye of oders wee hope thou wilt come. Our 
 plesur wiU be gret in thy companie at 
 Frestone Castel ; and thy moder Johan will 
 be glad to have thee. So, Thomas, wee shall 
 hope, that on this behalve thou wilt not for- 
 sayke us, but unyte William Latymer and 
 
152 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 Ellen De Frestone in the bonds of ma- 
 trymonie. 
 
 " Wee hope thy answer by the haunde of 
 the sayed Arthur Burch, and are thy loving 
 freinds. 
 
 "De Freston 
 " and Ellen. 
 " To Thomas Wulsey, 
 " Magdalyne College, 
 " Oxnforde. 
 
 "JUNE XVIII, A.D. CCCCLXXXXVIII." 
 
 This epistle created a deep impression. It 
 had been enough for him to discover his 
 own blighted hopes, with regard to the first 
 and fondest attachment he had formed in life. 
 But Wolsey then had no thought of the 
 ambitious projects which afterwards swayed 
 him. 
 
 The pride of the man never was greater 
 than in the tone of argument he held with 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 153 
 
 himself at that time when his nature said 
 *' do not go," and his spirit said " go !" 
 
 "Yes, I did promise, and I will perform 
 the ceremony, or, at least, I will be present 
 at these espousals. It shall never be said by 
 Alice De Clinton, or her uncle, that I shrank 
 from a duty which required nothing but 
 exertion to discharge. EUen, Latimer, De 
 Freston, nay, my mother, and all Ipswich 
 shall see, that I care not for friends or 
 relatives, and that the boyish fancies of my 
 former days shall be forgotten in the duties 
 of my office.'* 
 
 Then he sat leaning on his elbow, with 
 hand upon his forehead, thinking of what he 
 should write. Thinking, indeed, he was, all 
 that night ; and not one word could his 
 proud spirit pen to his friend Latimer, or to 
 Ellen, or her father. 
 
 His servant came to ask his commands 
 about Lord De Freston's messenger. 
 
 H 3 
 
154 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 "Tell him," replied the priest, "I w'll 
 give him his answer at six o'clock on the 
 morrow." 
 
 So the restless spirit tossed him to and 
 fro all night, and when the dawn arose, 
 Wolsey arose with it, and might be seen 
 walking under the magnificent trees of 
 Magdalen Park. When he returned to his 
 rooms, Arthur Burch was in great distress. 
 His horse had been taken ill in the night, 
 and, as the farrier said he would be quite 
 unable to proceed on his journey, he came to 
 petition Wolsey for the loan of one of his 
 numerous stud. 
 
 " I have but one, Arthur, and that I shall 
 want myself Mine is but a poor substitute 
 for thy noble Flanders black. Yet I can 
 hire here better than thou canst. So thou 
 mayst have my nag." 
 
 Arthur's eyes were open, and his tongue 
 soon gave utterance to his astonishment. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 155 
 
 " What, a'nt all those horses yours I saw 
 in the stables ? and a'nt all this great house 
 yours? and a'nt you master of all these 
 folks? They told me you were a-going to 
 build a great tower, like Master Latimer's at 
 Freston ; and yet you say you've got but one 
 horse 1" 
 
 " All this is true, Arthur, and I have but 
 this room, and that, I call my own, and yet 
 it is not my own, for I cannot sell it, or give 
 it to any one. It belongs to the college. I 
 am going to build a tower, but with the 
 college money. Yet one day, Arthur, it will 
 as much surpass Freston Tower, as the 
 King's palace does thy master's house. But 
 we will not talk of these things. Go thou 
 and look to thy horse, and if not fit to 
 journey take thou mine." 
 
 " But the letter, your reverence ?" 
 " Say I wrote none ; but that I sent 
 word by thee, that I will be there anon, 
 
156 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 ready to do what duty may be required 
 of me." 
 
 So Wolsey dismissed Lord De Freston*s 
 servant, and prepared himself to follow him 
 to Ipswich. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 157 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE JOURNEY. 
 
 A JOURNEY from Oxford to Ipswich 
 in these days, is as the swallow skimming 
 along the air, save that his pinions make 
 less noise than the ghding railway. 
 
 Men's thoughts seem to partake of the 
 railroad character, if we may judge of the 
 words now used by our public orators, wherein 
 there is nothing captivating, every thing 
 calculating — lines laid down with rapidity, 
 axioms for arguments, and the quicker we 
 come to the conclusion the better. Men's 
 
158 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 pauses are but to gain breath, and off 
 they go, rattling along, upon such a smooth 
 line — that until their throats are dry, and 
 they want water to keep up the steam, 
 their most powerful engine, the tongue, 
 cannot be stayed. 
 
 Such are the present popular orators of 
 our land, who have to get up a movement, 
 no matter on what subject, free trade, free 
 labour, or free thinking. Ancient custom o, 
 good or bad, must be exploded. The slow 
 coaches, respectable no doubt, are now of 
 no use. It may be safe and sure, but it 
 is antiquated, — and who looks at antiquity 
 in these days, without being astonished at 
 its ignorance ? 
 
 It is the case with every thing under 
 the sun ; men may do what they will with 
 the vehicle, they may brush it up, and make 
 it look as good as new, but it is thrust 
 aside by new inventions, new sciences, 
 new methods, new toys, to amuse new 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 159 
 
 comers. This must go on till all things come 
 to a stand-still — and a new world, wherein 
 dwells that which is scarcely to be found in 
 this, righteousness shall appear. Wolsey 
 resolved to journey to his native town. 
 Arthur's horse had recovered, and Arthur 
 himself, taking advantage of a cavalcade 
 to Aylesbury, and Bedford, had already 
 started. 
 
 In those ages, men travelled in company 
 for security, and a cavalcade was made up 
 of people of all grades, from the highest to 
 the lowest, each feeling some sort of protec- 
 tion in the presence of the other. Now- 
 a-days, men are drawn along by fire and 
 water, feeling no kind of security in each 
 other, and yet though the greater the 
 speed the greater the danger, they ai'e devoid 
 of fear. 
 
 Wolsey was not long in finding a party 
 going to the metropolis, in whose company 
 he could ride with safety, and spc 'C, as 
 
160 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 every one then did of the dangers of the 
 road, without any fear of robbers. Tra- 
 vellers even from Oxford to London, had 
 then some trepidations, about the free- 
 booters of High Wycombe, or of Hampstead 
 Heath ; and like prudent men, made their 
 wills before starting, and they have need, 
 as prudent men, to do the same now. — 
 They made their wills then — filled their 
 wallets, belted their purses, mounted their 
 steeds, and well-armed, proceeded on their 
 way, with pistols, well primed ; nor did they 
 journey without swords or cudgels. 
 
 The party which Wolsey had joined, was 
 mostly composed of wool-dealers, who at 
 that time were sheep-dealers as well. They 
 were journeying to London, to meet some 
 Spanish merchants, who had begun to pur- 
 chase the fine flocks of England, to pasture 
 upon the plains of Toledo. This was car- 
 ried to such an extent just then, that 
 government had to interfere, and did so 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 161 
 
 at the suggestion of Wolsey, who had 
 become aware of the extensive exportation 
 of flocks from this country 
 
 On his white faced cob, and not despising 
 his academical or priestly appearance sat 
 Wolsey, making himself as agreeable as 
 possible to his company. 
 
 *' You will sell half the flocks of Eng- 
 land, Master Cuthbert, if you go on with 
 this species of merchandise much longer. 
 What will become of our own wool-trade, 
 if you thus sell the very sheep's backs, upon 
 which it grows ?" 
 
 " As to that, Master, we have nothing 
 to do with it ! No matter to us, so long 
 as we get a profit, and these Dons give us 
 a good price; and I say prosperity to the 
 sheep-trade !" 
 
 " But do you consider that you injure 
 your country in this traffic ?" 
 
 "How so? We do but buy, and sell 
 at the best market; and what's a country 
 
162 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 to US, if we cannot make something oiit 
 
 of it r 
 
 " Our wool-trade is great : but every 
 flock you sell, must diminish our means of 
 supplying the demand upon us, and in- 
 crease it in other countries. Have you no 
 desire to see your country flourish ?" 
 
 " Yes, and I hope it will, and last our 
 time. The price of sheep is wonderfully 
 got up of late." 
 
 " And not to be wondered at either, 
 when you take ofl" so many. If I were a 
 statesman, I would take care of the trade 
 of my country and not destroy one of the 
 best staple commodities we have." 
 
 " Why, Master, you don't think we poor 
 dealers want to ruin others, do you ?" 
 
 " No ! you may not care much about 
 that : but the sheep are more profitable 
 in our country, than they can be out of it ; 
 and I have no idea of enriching others by 
 our own poverty." 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 163 
 
 " Well, Master, now I dare say you'd 
 buy books out of foreign countries if you 
 could." 
 
 *' That I would, to enrich my own and 
 not to impoverish them." 
 
 " Well, Master, then why m.ayn't others 
 do the same by us. What's the difference 
 betwixt traffic in sheep, and traffic in 
 books ?" 
 
 "A wonderful deal of difference. We 
 buy books to increase the knowledge of the 
 world." 
 
 " And we sell sheep to increase the 
 clothing thereof. What's the difference ?" 
 
 " If you sell the staple commodity of 
 a community, you create a want of general 
 employment, and injure trade for the future, 
 in that country. Our flocks produce the 
 finest wool in the world, and consequently 
 our wool-combers, and their families thrive : 
 but if you sell the flocks which produce 
 
164 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 the wool, you immediately take off their 
 families from their accustomed employment, 
 and your own people are destitute. Books 
 are but few now-a-days, and scholars are 
 far less. Printing is but in its infancy, 
 and is a matter of art and ingenuity. If 
 I were a legislator I would protect the 
 flock-growers against you wholesale flock- 
 sellers." 
 
 "Well, Master, all that's easy said, but 
 not so easy done : but yonder troops of 
 gipsies look as if they would have no 
 objection to ease us, either of our sheep, or 
 our money." 
 
 " Ay, and I would control them as well ; 
 and see if I could not get rid of an idle 
 set of vagabonds, who do nothing but live 
 in the wastes upon the plenty of others, 
 which they either pilfer, petition for, or 
 purloin, just as they please." 
 
 " You would make a rare statesman, if 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 165 
 
 you could rid the country of such folk : but 
 I think, Master, you would be too hard 
 upon us poor flock-dealers." 
 
 It was well the party advancing on the 
 road towards Hampstead, were as strong as 
 they were, for there was then at that place 
 a formidable encampment of that artful, 
 and imposing people, who had gained such 
 a footing in the midland counties, as to 
 make it dangerous to affront them, or to 
 refuse their demands. Woe to the unfor- 
 tunate traveller who had anything worth 
 losing in his piu-se, and lost his way in that 
 neighbourhood. It was even dangerous for 
 small parties to travel unprotected. The 
 gipsies, and the robbers were in league 
 against the liege subjects of the realm. 
 Nothing worthy of being called a surprise 
 occurred to any of the party until they 
 had passed through the metropolis, and 
 those who were journeying towards the 
 
166 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 eastern counties, became less apparently able 
 to defend themselves. 
 
 Wolsey changed companies in London, 
 and had now joined a party of Flemish 
 manufacturers, who were going down to 
 his native town, to teach the weavers 
 there the manufacture which afterwards 
 raised Ipswich to such notoriety. These 
 men were a contrast to those with whom 
 he had journeyed to London. These were 
 consumers, and teachers of consumers, of 
 that very article for the preservation of 
 which, to this country, he had been so 
 strong an advocate. He was now more 
 convinced than before of the folly of sending 
 the flocks out of the country when such 
 good workmen came from foreign countries, 
 to teach our men their value. 
 
 He found these foreigners intelligent and 
 industrious, acting under the guidance of a 
 leader, who undertook to give them wages 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 167 
 
 from the time of their starting from their 
 own country. With them he entered freely 
 into conversation, speaking to them in their 
 own language, and astonishing their minds, 
 with the knowledge he seemed to possess 
 of their country and people as well as of 
 the town to which he was bound. 
 
 It was upon this journey, too, that Wolsey 
 had an opportunity of discovering, that he 
 had made friends wath a worthy, honest 
 class of men, as stout-hearted as they were 
 strong armed ; and that they were ready 
 to look upon him with respect as their 
 superior, though by no means better moun- 
 ted or provided with cash. 
 
 Not far from Ingatstone, they were met 
 by a very formidable body of the idlers, 
 who infested that neighbourhood, half gipsies 
 half robbers — men and women, travelling 
 in company, tinkers, shoeing-smiths, and 
 braziers, yet of such a wild character, that 
 
168 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 they never failed to tax all they met who 
 happened to be too weak to resist. 
 
 They were headed by a tall, swarthy man, 
 commonly called the Ingatstone Bear, or 
 Wild Man of Brentwood. He was known 
 as King of the Gipsies far and near. 
 
 He had come over from Spain, having 
 escaped the violent persecution at Toulon 
 which those unfortunate people had aroused, 
 in consequence of their having had a deadly 
 encounter with some Turkish traders, whom 
 they had murdered to a man. 
 
 Stanton, as he was called among his own 
 people, was a sinewy and bony man, who 
 never did any work, but led his people 
 about the country, occasionally haranguing 
 them in a circle, and appointing the different 
 men their specific duties. The King of 
 the Gipsies understood the handicraft of 
 all his people. He also had a very quick 
 apprehension of character, such as he found 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 169 
 
 among the gentry and commonalty of Eng- 
 land, though he pretended to understand 
 nothing of their language. 
 
 The party of Flemings then journeying 
 to Ipswich in company, had hired a guide 
 who undertook to see them safe through 
 the country. Whether this man was in 
 league with the Gipsies or not, it was never 
 strictly ascertained, though this was much 
 suspected. 
 
 About eight o'clock in the evening, three 
 miles of the Chelmsford side of Ingatstone, 
 near Hide Green, a large party of these idle 
 fellows, headed by the Wild Man of Brent- 
 wood, chose to stop them, and to demand, 
 in terms not to be misunderstood, whatever 
 they could spare. Wolsey, desirous of peace, 
 undertook to state the nature of the journey 
 the Flemings were pursuing, and the conse- 
 quent poverty they were all in at present. 
 As to himself, he told them he was a scholar, 
 
 VOL. II. I 
 
1 70 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 and that what little money he had was at 
 their service : but he stipulated that the 
 poor Flemings should be permitted to pro- 
 ceed on their journey without molestation, 
 on his surrendering his own purse. 
 
 The Flemings were ignorant of Wolsey's 
 generosity until they saw him give up his 
 money. They then saw that he had pur- 
 chased their liberation. They were not the 
 men, however, tamely to submit to impo- 
 sition, or to suffer another to be imposed 
 upon in their company. One fine young 
 fellow, who seemed to be well backed by 
 the rest, came forward to the King of the 
 Gipsies, and demanded the purse back again. 
 To his own surprise, the Gipsy gave it him ; 
 and he immediately delivered it to Wolsey, 
 who with a quick eye, and as quick a 
 command, told them at once to be pre- 
 pared for an attack ; for once having made 
 a compromise with the King of the Gipsies, 
 
FRESTON TOWER. I7l 
 
 the demanding again the surety given, was 
 a certain declaration of war, and they must 
 expect it. 
 
 The warning of Wolsey was taken in 
 earnest. The Flemings had been hitherto in 
 their loose jackets, seeming to have nothing 
 but their working tools ; in one moment each 
 man had a formidable weapon, scarcely known 
 in England, but used with great dexterity by 
 the Flemish, and which gave them, as will be 
 seen, a perfect ascendancy over their antago- 
 nists. This weapon was a ball and thong. A 
 ball of lead or iron, which they could cast 
 out of their hands, and draw back again with 
 well- trained facility, called a " Battledoer." 
 
 They had scarcely collected themselves 
 in a band round Wolsey and three others, 
 before a shrill whistle from the King of 
 the Gipsies announced the commencement 
 of hostilities. The women and children ran 
 screaming up the Green to their encamp- 
 ment, whence several men might be seen 
 
 I 2 
 
172 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 hastening to the scene of dispute. The 
 heavy Flemings, on their long-tailed shaggy 
 horses, were not accustomed to move very 
 quickly along the road; but were as little 
 accustomed to be stayed in their steady 
 progress. 
 
 The King of the Gipsies presented a 
 bold front; for, coming forward from his 
 numerous subjects, he insisted upon the 
 whole party going back the way they came, 
 or paying the toll which they had once paid 
 and taken away. 
 
 The Flemings were not disposed to turn 
 their backs ; their tactics were of a very 
 simple kind. If the attack was made in 
 front, four from each side drew up in a 
 moment, to support their leaders. If in the 
 rear, three on each side drew up for the 
 defence ; and if on either side, there were 
 seven on each side perfectly prepared. This 
 little oblong square was formed with dex- 
 terity and resolution, and evidently discom- 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 173 
 
 posed the Gipsies at the very first step ; for 
 when the leaders moved on, the King of 
 the Gipsies receded instinctively. In another 
 moment, however, his word of command was 
 given, and his men came on, with bludgeons, 
 stones, and iron hooks, to the attack. One 
 or two Gipsies only appeared to have fire- 
 arms, and of these they made so much parade 
 that it was strongly suspected that they were 
 unloaded, or that they dare not fire them 
 off. A volley of stones, however, soon came 
 rattling among the Flemings, who from that 
 moment moved on with a front rank of ten 
 horsemen and a flank of eight, undismayed 
 by the numbers of their antagonists. 
 
 The very first volley of their leaden missiles 
 had all the effect of a discharge of musketry. 
 The balls were thrown with such precision 
 that men fell as if they were shot; and the 
 immediate recoiling of them, so as to send 
 another shower, as quickly as a man could 
 pick up a stone, was what these fellows did 
 
174 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 not wait for. They fled immediately, the 
 King of Brentwood Forest among them, 
 whilst the brave Flemings passing over the 
 bodies of their stunned foes moved on with- 
 out further molestation to Chelmsford. 
 
 The only man injured in their party was 
 their guide, who, being knocked from his 
 horse by a blow on the forehead from a stone 
 thrown by the Gipsies, was carried into the 
 town of Chelmsford, and there left with the 
 Abbot of the monastery. 
 
 Wolsey now became the conductor of the 
 party, and, greatly pleased with their conduct, 
 he felt a pride and pleasure in introducing 
 such men into his native town. Messrs. Hall 
 and Baldry were the parties to whom they 
 were engaged, and our young scholar did not 
 fail to speak of them by letter to his uncle, 
 Edmund Daundy, in terms of such commen- 
 dation as they deserved. 
 
 They arrived without any other molestation, 
 and Dame Joan received her son, for the last 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 1 "75 
 
 time, into her house, and found him grown a 
 greater man than she had ever known him, 
 but at that time far from happy or cheerful. 
 She never knew him to smile upon her after 
 that day. 
 
 " Mother," said Wolsey on his arrival, " I 
 am come to perform a promise extracted from 
 me, in your own presence, on the memorable 
 evening of my gallantry, when the ox shin- 
 bone did execution upon the head of the 
 mastiff." 
 
 "What was that, my son?" 
 
 "To be present at the marriage of Ellen 
 De Freston — ay, and more, not only to see 
 her given in marriage, but to unite her with 
 my friend Latimer." 
 
 " Oh, why, my son, why perform the 
 ceremony ? I know you have loved Ellen, 
 but"— 
 
 " But, hush, mother ! hush ! breathe not a 
 word of this. Let it die. I am a priest, 
 mother. I must not marry — I cannot. I 
 
176 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 must deny, denounce, and destroy any such 
 idea in my soul ! Your prayers, mother, in 
 silence ; but tell it not to De Freston — tell 
 it not to my uncle — breathe it not to the 
 world — that thy son, Thomas Wolsey, ever 
 had such a weakness." 
 
 " How, my dear son, wilt thou ever sustain 
 the shock ? I cannot bear to think of it." 
 
 " Thou must assist me, mother, with all 
 thy courage and thy kindness to smile upon 
 the bride and the bridegroom. Doubt not 
 my strength. I can do what I will with 
 myself, but do not thou betray me or my 
 weakness. I would retire to prepare for the 
 morrow's interview at Freston Hall. Once 
 more I will see the Tower, the Orwell — the 
 scenes of my youth and of my early love— - 
 and then, farewell for ever." 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 177 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE INTERVIEW. 
 
 The morning sun rose as clear and lovely 
 on the day that Wolsey left Ipswich for his 
 last visit to Freston Tower, as it did upon 
 the day of his first visit. But how different 
 were the sensations of the man in the few 
 short years which had intervened between the 
 hour of buoyant love, and that of painful 
 compliance with a request which any other 
 man would have studiously avoided ! 
 
 It was quite true that he felt himself 
 
 I 3 
 
178 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 independent, but was he really so? It is 
 true that he was not dependent upon the 
 smile of De Freston, or the generosity of his 
 relative, Edmund Daundy, or upon any friend 
 in Ipswich. 
 
 He rode out of his native town, along that 
 beautiful strand, in the morning sun, with 
 a gloomy heart — a heart which nature, or 
 rather the God of nature, had gifted with a 
 sensitiveness and grace which now the spirit 
 within him had resisted, but had not quite 
 banished. Whoever sins against philan- 
 thropy, cannot be happy in spirit, let his 
 knowledge embrace an insight into every 
 book that ever was written or printed in the 
 world. Nothing but the love of our fellow- 
 creatures can make any work of any mind 
 pleasant to the soul of the Christian. Men 
 may be selfish in gaining knowledge, but 
 what is the use of finding a treasure, if it 
 is only to be selfishly enjoyed ? for, intel- 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 179 
 
 ligence, except it can be used to enlighten 
 others, would make its possessor only the 
 more miserable. 
 
 Wolsey used to journey in the days of his 
 poverty with pure love in his heart — love for 
 De Freston and his daughter — love for his 
 father, his mother, his uncle, his friends. 
 He loved none of these now, and this made 
 the Orwell so dull and gloomy in his sight. 
 
 He was on his way to that hospitable hall, 
 where all was mirth and harmony within, at 
 the prospect of the marriage which was to 
 take place on the morrow. The banks of 
 the river were as green as in former days, 
 the swallows were as lively, boys were bathing, 
 ships were saihng, boats were moving, birds 
 were singing, nature smiling; the difference 
 was in Wolsey, and not in the things around 
 him. The monastery of St. Peter's frowned 
 upon him as he crossed the ford of Stoke, 
 monks were chaunting matins, country folk 
 bringing in their produce from the farm- 
 
180 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 yard, and smiling health, animating some 
 lively lass, who was paying her first visit to 
 the great provincial town of Suffolk. 
 
 Stern were Wolsey's features, as deep 
 thought sat upon his brow. He saw not the 
 bows which foot passengers gave him. His 
 eye seemed fixed upon some mental object. 
 He was absorbed in his own reflections, 
 thinking of those who were his friends, and 
 of the manner in which he should receive 
 their welcome. 
 
 De Freston had been his patron in days 
 past ; but De Freston could be of no service 
 to him now. He was now a priest, and a 
 priest must not feel as other men do. He 
 must be more dignified, more reserved, more 
 distant, more exalted. He was a priest of 
 Rome ; he must forget that he was ever 
 a poor scholar at Ipswich, fostered and 
 cherished by many friends, and sent to 
 Oxford by their kindness and patronage. 
 He was a priest of Rome ! Rome must be 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 181 
 
 now his patron; Rome must claim every 
 secret impulse of his heart, and all his 
 kindred must be forgotten. Something of 
 offence arose out of De Freston's pre- 
 ference in bestowing the hand of his 
 daughter upon Latimer. Something of 
 offence suggested itself in Ellen's preference 
 of his friend, and towards Latimer a sort of 
 aversion sprang up, on account of his suc- 
 cessful rivalry. But human nature must be 
 subdued. The decree of Rome forbade any 
 such ideas to be entertained ; not on account 
 of any exigency of the times, but because 
 the priests could not, without this decided 
 law of privation, be trained in the way of 
 implicit obedience. It may be said that 
 Wolsey w^as greater at that moment, whilst 
 raising himself above human sympathy, than 
 at any after-period of his life. If he 
 really loved Ellen, he would have been glad 
 to hear of her happiness, even though she 
 had preferred his friend Latimer. 
 
182 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 In self-sacrifices for the promotion of 
 another's happiness, there is ever a noble and 
 graceful love, which carries with it un- 
 speakable admiration. But this passion of 
 Wolsey's had given way to a misanthropic 
 philosophy, which ever after induced him to 
 look with disregard upon the ties of mutual 
 affection. 
 
 At the time he was moving along the 
 strand, he was as sharp an ascetic as any 
 monk whose monastery he afterwards caused 
 to be destroyed. At last, Freston Tower 
 broke upon his view, glittering as it did in 
 the morning sun of a lovely June day, with- 
 out any exclamation of pleasure. No longer 
 did his heart bound at the sight, as if he was 
 about to see those who loved him, and those 
 whom he had loved. Time was that he 
 would have wished for a horse to have borne 
 him to that lovely Tower, and few would 
 have gone fast enough to have answered the 
 quick and lively energy of the young as- 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 183 
 
 pirant for everything laudable, honourable, 
 and good. Now he was moving in solemn 
 state, without any apparent emotion of joy 
 or sorrow. 
 
 By Bishop Gold well he was much admired, 
 and had received wonderful encouragement 
 from him to devote himself to the good of 
 the Church. AHce, too, the proud Alice, 
 had promised to work him a piece of altar 
 tapestry whenever he should be presented 
 with preferment. Did he then contrast this 
 unfeeling woman, superstitious and cold as 
 she was, with the mild, amiable, and lovely 
 Ellen ? 
 
 He was espied from the Tower by the fair 
 one, who waved her hand from the sunny 
 chamber, where they had so often met. 
 
 " Here he comes, Latimer. Here he 
 comes ! but how slowly he moves. Perhaps 
 he is thinking of the days of his youth, and 
 weighing in his learned mind the thought, 
 whether he is happier now, than he was 
 
184 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 then ; for he takes no notice of our salu- 
 tation, though his face seems lifted to the 
 Tower." 
 
 "He is perhaps conning over some pas- 
 sage of the poets, or thinking of some deep 
 logical question of the schools. He is very 
 often lost in thought." 
 
 " But this is not a time, William, for 
 Thomas Wolsey to forget us. He must 
 surely be thinking of us. He cannot fail 
 to discern us. Or does he think it beneath 
 the dignity of his office, to come on merrily 
 to the marriage feast ?" 
 
 " I know not, Ellen, but that you may 
 find Wolsey a little changed in this respect. 
 At no time of my acquaintance with him did 
 he fail in self-esteem or self-deportment ; and 
 we have not often seen him on horseback. 
 Had we not better receive him in the 
 haUr 
 
 "Is it so, indeed, William ? and are we 
 to forget, that in this very room we have 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 185 
 
 Spent so many joyful hours of literary plea- 
 sure ? I shall be almost sorry that I wrote 
 to him to come, if thus it should seem by 
 his progress, that he was performing a 
 penance, rather than promoting love ! Let 
 us, however, receive him with respect in 
 the hall, as he has become so great a man, 
 as not to recognise us in the Tower." 
 
 Wolsey had recognized his former friends ; 
 he even saw their hands waving from the 
 fifth story ; but the man had no answering 
 delight to say, " My heart is glad," or " God 
 be praised that you are well !" *' I see 
 you," he mentally observed, but without a 
 smile. " I care not for yoiu* joy. I come 
 to fulfil an exacted promise ! but I am a 
 Roman Catholic Priest : I see without the 
 eyes of nature, and my eyes must be lifted 
 up without emotion." All feeling was dor- 
 mant, even the salutation of the poor old 
 lodge gate-keeper, elicited no recognition. 
 
 *''Dame, I say," said the old man, as 
 
186 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 he addressed his aged partner, "pride is 
 come home from a distance, and I have 
 opened the park gates to the visitor." 
 
 " What art thou talking of? what dost 
 thou mean ?" she replied. 
 
 " I mean to say, that I have opened the 
 gate to Master Wolsey, and he is gone up 
 the park; and if he meets my Lord and 
 Lady as he has done me, he'll turn all our 
 merry-making into misery." 
 
 " What, the lively Master Thomas grown 
 proud ! Well a' day, well a' day ! Men's 
 fortunes will sometimes change their faces, 
 and Arthur Burch told me Master Thomas 
 was grown a great man 1" 
 
 De Freston was made aware of Wolsey's 
 coming ; he waited not for his formal an- 
 nouncement ; but came from the hall across 
 the drawbridge in company with Ellen and 
 Latimer to welcome their friend. 
 
 Oh, that word friend I How dreadfully 
 is it abused ! How often made a mere con- 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 187 
 
 ventional term, and used in the world, just 
 as interest may prompt, or anything be got 
 by it. One true one, is better than a host 
 of pretenders, and a man without that one, 
 is miserable. To look for many, is not to 
 know the world; to value one when you 
 have found him is to possess wisdom. Ice, 
 in summer ; hail in harvest time ; and a 
 swallow in winter, are as congenial, as a 
 cold and heartless friend meeting you in the 
 day of your rejoicing. 
 
 Fond hearts met Wolsey at the entrance 
 to Freston Hall. Fond hearts beaming with 
 love, rejoicing in his arrival, and bounding to 
 make him welcome. But they could not fail 
 to remark how stately he had grown ! 
 how very dignified ! how distant, grand, 
 and great. 
 
 " Ha ! Thomas, my friend ! Welcome to 
 De Freston's Hall !" 
 
 " I thank thee, thy daughter, and her 
 friend !" with a most courteous bow of 
 
188 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 seemingly profound respect, which at once 
 killed all the natural joy of the interview, and 
 told the nobleman that an Ambassador from 
 Rome had arrived, in the place of that 
 cheerful friend who was once the delight of 
 his hall. 
 
 Wolsey was stately, not uncourteous. He 
 had schooled himself most admirably, and 
 acted his part with all the precision of an 
 accomplished performer. 
 
 So gentlemanly in his external deportment, 
 but resolved to show no intimacy ; so very 
 easy in his manner, that no one could be 
 affronted ; and yet so little heart, that Ellen 
 could have burst into tears at the strange 
 alteration of the man who once was her 
 liveliest companion. 
 
 The very domestics, anticipating from 
 Arthur's account the arrival of a great man, 
 and who had so associated Thomas Wolsey 
 with all that was cheerful and gay, becoming, 
 and pleasant, were petrified at the stately gaze 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 189 
 
 with which he seemed to contemplate the 
 architecture of the hall, and the little notice 
 he took of any one in it. 
 
 " We have friends to meet thee, Master 
 Wolsey,'' said De Freston, evidently con- 
 vinced that some more distant form was now 
 necessary. " Some of thy oldest friends will 
 be with us at the hour of noon. They will 
 be delighted to greet thee, after so long an 
 absence." 
 
 Wolsey's reply shot like a shaft — ay, and 
 a well-aimed one it was — to the hearts of 
 Latimer and Ellen. 
 
 " I suppose thy friend, Bishop Gold well, 
 and Alice, his niece, have consented to be 
 here." 
 
 " Indeed they have not ; nor have we 
 invited them, for, since the day of Ivan's 
 death, we have never exchanged a word." 
 
 *' I can only regret it," replied Wolsey. 
 '* He is a man whose acquaintance I should 
 have courted, and his niece a fit companion 
 
190 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 for thy daughter. I thought they had been 
 intimate." 
 
 " Their characters are very dissimilar." 
 
 " That should be no bar to friendship." 
 
 " But I know that Bishop GoldweU does 
 not admire thy friend Latimer, and that he is 
 the aversion of Alice." 
 
 " On such an occasion as this, distances 
 should be abridged, and differences of 
 opinion softened, wounds healed, and friends 
 united." 
 
 " I agree with thee, Wolsey ; thy doctrine 
 is herein sound, but somewhat opposed to 
 thy practice." 
 
 "Ah! how so?" 
 
 " Thou thyself art not thyself as formerly. 
 Thy bearing is widely different, thy manner, 
 speech, and conduct, have undergone a great 
 change.'* 
 
 " I am a priest ; yet I am here to-day b) 
 thine invitation. Why not Bishop GoldweU 
 and his niece ?" 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 191 
 
 " They are not our kin." 
 
 " And I now have no kin, no connexions, 
 no property, no friends, but the Church, to 
 which I am henceforth devoted." 
 
 "Does that destroy thy former friend- 
 ships?" 
 
 " It cancels every one ! I have given them 
 up! — forsaken them all! and I shall follow 
 the Church of Rome, of which I am her 
 devoted servant." 
 
 " And so," said Ellen, ** I may address 
 thee no longer as my learned and dear friend — 
 my choice companion — my tutor — my re- 
 lative and associate, but simply as Your 
 Reverence ?" 
 
 " I am come to perform a duty. Mistress 
 Ellen, and if thou wouldst have me discharge 
 it gracefully, I pray thee mar not the dignity 
 of mine office by any allusions to the past." 
 
 "I cannot forget what thou wast, Thomas 
 Wolsey, both to me and to thy friend 
 Latimer, once our loving companion." 
 
192 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 " And now," said Wolsey, with a bow of 
 studied courtesy, "the humble servant of 
 both!" 
 
 " No, Thomas Wolsey," replied the maiden, 
 " thou art not humble at all ! Thou hast 
 been to Oxford to obtain learning, hast 
 entered the Church to obtain pride, and art 
 come to show us what an unpleasant ascetic 
 these acquisitions have created. Now, if I 
 could see thee as amiable as thou wast a few 
 years since, or only as lively as thou wast 
 wont to be, I should say thou hadst improved 
 in person, manners and acquaintance. Thy 
 priesthood, Thomas, sits mournfully on thy 
 years ; and the wisdom which used to orna- 
 ment thy brow, seems lost in outward state- 
 liness. I like thee not in thy change." 
 
 " May be, mistress Ellen, thou may'st one 
 day think differently, and then praise that 
 reserve which now thou dost misinterpret." 
 
 " It may be so Thomas Wolsey ! but my 
 heart must be contracted instead of being en- 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 193 
 
 larged ; my soul must bend to form and 
 ceremony, and not to love ; and I must 
 admire Alice De Clinton, and imitate her 
 bearing, and forget the friends who taught 
 me truth, that I may be admitted to the 
 favour of a priest !" 
 
 Even the self-possessed Wolsey was 
 abashed at this charge. His well-schooled 
 reserve was about to give way to generous 
 impulses, and thoughts of joy and thank- 
 fulness to God for such kind friends and 
 benefactors, were beginning to rise in the 
 heart ; but over them aU, rose his vow of 
 devotion to the Church, and denying himself 
 where self-denial was uncalled for, he rejected 
 the spirit of love, and feigned a momentary 
 sickness. 
 
 He retired to his room to get the com- 
 mand of himself, leaving the friends of his 
 youth to talk over his estrangement. He 
 nevertheless attended the banquet, sat on the 
 right hand of the betrothed, was attentive 
 
 VOL. II. K 
 
194 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 and most punctilious in his devotions, spoke 
 when addressed, and yet offered no opinion 
 of his own, nor put himself forward to lead 
 the converse : heard all, and reflected upon 
 aU, surprised all, and pleased none ; yet did 
 he conduct himself with such dignified exte- 
 rior, that no man could say he transgressed 
 the strictest rules of decorum, or thought 
 not of others as much as of himself It 
 was difficult to decide upon such a point. 
 
 To his uncle — to his friends — to the as- 
 sembled company at that festive meeting, to 
 De Freston and his daughter — to Latimer, 
 and his father, who had through his son 
 received such a favourable account of him, he 
 was the same dignified, unaccountable being. 
 Sir William Latimer was never more asto- 
 nished at seeing such a character as Wolsey 
 then appeared. His son had assured him 
 that he had been the means of his introduc- 
 tion to the University, and that he was his 
 bosom friend : nevertheless, nothing could be 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 196 
 
 more distant than Wolsey's manner and con- 
 versation with him. 
 
 He retired early to his room, to prepare 
 himself for the last ceremony he ever per- 
 formed in his native town, and the last time 
 he saw his friends at Ipswich, though he 
 never forgot the early steps of education 
 which he had there received. 
 
 K 2 
 
196 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 CHAPTER XT. 
 
 THE MARRIAGE PROCESSION. 
 
 A MARRIAGE in the year 1498, and in a 
 nobleman's family, was almost like an affair of 
 state. In the metropolis, such an event might 
 not have been uncommon ; but in the country, 
 it was in that day so joyous an event, that 
 he was considered but a niggard nobleman 
 who had not the whole country to participate 
 in his festivity. 
 
 Such a maid as Ellen too, so universally 
 beloved in her own neighbourhood, and so 
 celebrated, for every female virtue of her 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 197 
 
 time, was sure to command the generous and 
 gentle affections of all who had any regard 
 for their betters. There might be some 
 morose dispositions, who staid at home, 
 brooding over melancholy forebodings, and 
 caring nothing for a marriage, for bride, 
 bridegroom, bridal attire, bridal friends, men, 
 maids, banquets, or any kind of festivity; 
 but there was then no lack of well-wishers, 
 who really loved Ellen De Freston, and 
 wished her happy. 
 
 Alice De Clinton, had she been at all of 
 Ellen's disposition, would have been her com- 
 panion upon this occasion: but she lacked 
 not friends of the noblest class to fill her 
 place. The fair daughters of Fastolf, and 
 De Broke, from the Haugh, were at 
 Freston Castle, together with four other 
 maidens of quality, to accompany her to the 
 wedding. 
 
 The morning broke most lovely! The 
 merry beUs could be heard from the town 
 
198 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 of Ipswich, ringing cheerily: for Lord De 
 Freston, and Edmund Daundy, were as uni- 
 versally loved for their amiable qualities, as 
 they were known to be rich and generous. 
 Everything indicated a happy morning ; birds 
 were singing blithely, and men and women's 
 voices mingled therewith. The hills around 
 Ipswich echoed the joyful notes, whilst people 
 looked upon that day as one of the brightest 
 festival in which love reigned omnipotent. 
 In short, every face exhibited something of 
 the anticipated pleasure of the bridal. 
 
 Maidens might be seen tripping along the 
 meadows of the meandering Gipping, with 
 little baskets of flowers, on purpose to strew 
 the bridal path from St. Peter's Gate, to the 
 porch of St. Lawrence. It was no loss of 
 time to them to be seen to participate in 
 the happiness of a lady whom some or other 
 of them had known, for her kindness to some 
 poor relative, or for her gentleness and ami- 
 able bearing. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 199 
 
 Fame, when not courted but deserved, 
 will come with a reward which is as pleasant 
 as it is unexpected. Actions done upon the 
 Christian principle of brotherly love, are sure 
 to be successful in the end ; they carry with 
 them their own reward, being done from 
 faith, and a sense of duty. 
 
 Such were those of the whole life of Lord 
 De Freston and his daughter. Such were 
 the motives which influenced him in his 
 patronage of Wolsey ; such were his daugh- 
 ter's motives, in the interest she felt in his 
 rising fame. But, whilst hundreds around 
 them were grateful, and rejoiced to show the 
 interest they felt in Ellen's happiness, that 
 one, the scholar, and the friend, felt nothing of 
 gratitude, Kttle of affection ; he felt only the 
 deepest, the most heartfelt mortification. 
 
 Early on the morning of 8th of July, 
 1498, did Thomas Wolsey, Priest of Magda- 
 lene College, rise. Whether he slept or 
 not, those who saw him could only give a 
 
200 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 surmise, and from the swollen appearance of 
 bis eyes, and the excessive pallor of his coun- 
 tenance, it was thought that his Reverence 
 had passed a very restless night. 
 
 He was not stirring earlier than William 
 Latimer, who, when Wolsey descended from 
 the internal balcony of the hall, was with 
 Edmund Daundy preparing to depart for 
 Ipswich, that both might be in readiness to 
 receive the cortege of the bride at the house 
 of the latter in St. Lawrence. As they 
 stood in the hall, Thomas Wolsey descended. 
 He bowed haughtily in return to the generous 
 salute of his uncle and his young friend. 
 
 ** I am ready to depart for Ipswich, gen- 
 tlemen, and to solicit of the officiating priest 
 of St. Lawrence the permission to perform 
 the marriage ceremony. ^^ 
 
 These last words created a kind of ad- 
 hesive firmness of his tongue to the roof of 
 his mouth ; for, when his uncle replied that 
 he had already secured that permission, there 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 201 
 
 was but a bow of acquiescence, and a dig- 
 nified move towards the massive hall-door. 
 The party went forward. Three of Lord De 
 Freston's horses stood caparisoned for them 
 at the porch ; but a delay was created by the 
 proud priest saying to the groom in waiting, 
 
 '* My own horse !" 
 
 " My Lord thought your own would be 
 fatigued, and requests that you will use his," 
 said the man. 
 
 " My own horse, sirrah !" was the un- 
 courteous reply. The gentlemen were equally 
 as astonished as the groom ; but seeing that 
 Wolsey quietly retreated into the hall, they 
 could but desire the groom to be as expe- 
 ditious as possible in bringing the said nag 
 round to the door. 
 
 It was evident that Wolsey would have 
 his own way, and not put a foot into the 
 stirrup until he had. 
 
 The horse was brought round. The bride- 
 
 K 3 
 
202 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 groom, bridesman, and priest, departed with 
 a retinue of horsemen for the town. It was 
 a stately ride. Nothing seemed to please 
 Wolsey. He received al! that was said to 
 him with silent indications of assent, as if 
 they were only such common-place sayings 
 as he might expect to receive from the 
 attendants upon his Greatness. So passed 
 they to his native town, where at this day 
 nothing remains in any way connected with 
 him but a postern gate of brick, leading to 
 the school-master's lodge within the area of 
 the schools, and not as some have called it, 
 the principal entrance to the President's 
 Court. 
 
 They arrived at the mansion of Edmund 
 Daundy at seven o'clock on the morning of 
 the 8th of July. 
 
 Dame Joan, Wolsey 's mother, was there 
 before them, with many of the friends, wives, 
 and daughters of the best families of the town 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 203 
 
 and neighbourhood, who came to participate 
 in the joyous doings. 
 
 " I give thee this, young man,'' said Wolsey 
 to the groom on taking his horse, " that 
 thou mayest learn that a reward is worth 
 having, when it is deserved. At ten o'clock 
 do thou be at the portal leading to the 
 chancel door of St. Lawrence Church. Thou 
 knowest the priest's entrance, his private 
 entrance, from the lane. There be thou 
 with this horse, caparisoned exactly as he now 
 is — his trappings on, exactly as thou seest 
 them now. Let nothing be taken out of thy 
 possession. There is an angel for thee. 
 Another angel doth await thee !" 
 
 Wolsey gave the man a golden angel, of 
 the value of six and eightpence, a gift which 
 commanded much more attention than many 
 such pieces would do now-a-days. 
 
 He not only promised obedience, but kept 
 it punctually. 
 
 *' Thou wilt accept once more, Thomas 
 
204 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 Wolsey, thine aged uncle's hospitality. Come 
 in." 
 
 " I have a vow at the altar of St. Lawrence, 
 which I must pay this morning. I can enter 
 no house until that is paid." 
 ''How long wilt thou be?" 
 " Until this marriage is over." 
 " We shall hope to see thee then ?" 
 '• Thou mayest then hope !" And Wolsey 
 departed for the church. 
 
 Whilst he bent at the altar of St Law- 
 rence Church, glad to escape from anything 
 like cheerfulness, he was steeling his heart for 
 a trial, to which the pages of romance could 
 scarcely afford a parallel. Never once did he 
 reproach himself for the cruelty of his be- 
 haviour towards those who really loved him, 
 and had given him the greatest possible 
 proofs of attachment. Never once did he 
 reflect that his then state of deportment 
 towards Ellen was barbarous or unjust ; his 
 whole soul was enveloped in the cloak of his 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 205 
 
 own selfishness. His heart was full of gall 
 and bitterness, grief, and agony. And as he 
 knelt before that altar to which he had 
 devoted himself soul and body, did he pray 
 for that high, that holy, inward peace, which 
 the man who sacrifices every selfish feeling 
 for the good of another would so earnestly 
 desire ? His heart could have burst at the 
 very position he had then placed himself in, 
 but for that indomitable pride which prayed for 
 future aggrandizement, that the poor scholar 
 of Ipswich might rival, or rather out-rival, 
 the Lord De Freston and his friends. 
 
 His vow was but an excuse for the feeding 
 of his own solitary disappointment ; but for 
 the opportunity of brooding over the melan- 
 choly superstition to which his nature and 
 his enlightened mind were adverse, but to 
 which his seemingly injured affections had 
 fled for solace. 
 
 Whilst Wolsey was thus mournfully fast- 
 ing and praying, and the gay world was 
 
206 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 shut out from the gloom of his devotion, 
 parties of maidens, formed in rank, a long 
 and pleasing file, went with their baskets 
 of flowers from Daundy's mansion gate to- 
 wards St. Peter's Ford, by which the bride 
 was expected to enter the town, and as they 
 went, their leaders lifted up their voices and 
 sung one stanza, at the conclusion of the 
 two last lines of which the whole company 
 joined : 
 
 Come all ye merry lasses ! 
 
 Come bring your flowers gay ; 
 Come all in smiling masses, 
 
 And strew the bridal way. 
 Leave sorrow far behind you, 
 
 And be not you forlorn. 
 For Love alone should bind you, 
 
 To greet the bridal morn. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Then haste, oh ! haste this happy hour ! 
 To meet the Maid of Freston Tower. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 207 
 
 It was a lovely morning, indeed; and 
 Ellen, the Maid of Freston Tower, with 
 her dear and anxious father, and her whole 
 train of fair damsels and rustic maidens, 
 and tenants' daughters and servants, were 
 seen descending Freston Hill, from the park 
 side to the strand. It was a long and 
 sweeping cortege; the bridesmaids and the 
 bride attired in traveUing costume, attended 
 by noble gentlemen, the friends of the various 
 parties, swept along that happy strand amidst 
 the blessings and praises of those poor people, 
 who left their morning toil by permission 
 of their masters. 
 
 It was a sight in those feudal days worthy 
 of being recorded in a better baUad than 
 the old one extant in the archives of the 
 borough of Ipswich, written by old Dan 
 Lydgate, monk of the Benedictine Abbey 
 of St. Edmund's Biu-y; though he was a 
 genuine poet of his day, and few could vie 
 
208 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 with him in allegory, or in narrative, or 
 in words; and yet old Dan wanted that 
 sense of feeling that meditates in love, upon 
 things passing around him. He described 
 them with flowery colours, and now and 
 then with a daring liberty almost approach- 
 ing to licentiousness. He was seldom pa- 
 thetic or reflective — yet he is a good old 
 poet, and describes his times quite as well 
 as Byron does his, with far less morbid 
 selfishness. 
 
 From far and near, Ipswich was like a 
 vast fair ; but there was no gambling, hoot- 
 ing, hallooing, cheating, drinking, bargaining 
 and brawling. Instead of these, there was 
 a cheerful wedding, upon which every face 
 smiled with delight. 
 
 Beautiful indeed was the attachment be- 
 tween two such souls as those of the son 
 of Sir William Latimer and the daughter 
 of Lord De Freston, enhanced by similarity 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 209 
 
 of taste, a love of truth, literature and talent, 
 and by every virtue which adorns or ennobles 
 human nature. An abhorrence of anything 
 unjust and oppressive pervaded De Freston 
 and Sir William Latimer, and was instilled 
 into their children. 
 
 The country was alive with joyful faces, 
 and not only the hamlets of Ipswich, but 
 from every village down the Orwell, as far 
 as Felixstow Beach on the one side, and 
 Shotly Point on the other, boats ascended 
 the tide to the gaily festive scene. Songs 
 were got up by the village singers. One, 
 ballad, or song, or chaunt, or whatever 
 else it may be called, is preserved, which 
 affords not only a lively description of the 
 feeling then felt towards the daughter of 
 the Lord De Freston, but is not devoid 
 of elegance or metrical beauty, though it 
 may not be exactly accurate in rhyme : — 
 
210 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 E6e Boatmen^a Britial S^oxiq. 
 
 Come, row the boat, row ! from Levington Creek ; 
 The boat full of roses as e'er it can stick. 
 
 Row the boat, row ! 
 
 Yoho ! yoho ! 
 For the pride of the castle, fair Ellen, we go ! 
 
 Come, row the boat, row ! 'tis the bridal day ; 
 And woe to the maiden who stays away. 
 
 Row the boat, row ! 
 
 Yoho ! yoho ! 
 For the pride of the castle, fair Ellen, we go. 
 
 Come, row the boat, row ! o'er the Orwell's wave. 
 If the youth or the maiden would happiness have. 
 
 Row the boat, row ! 
 
 Yoho! Yoho! 
 For the pride of the castle, fair Ellen, we go. 
 
 Come, row the boat, row; from the Haugh's green side, 
 'Neath the Wolferstone shade let our oars quick glide. 
 
 Row the boat, row ! 
 
 Yoho ! yoho ! 
 For the pride of the castle, fair Ellen, we go. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 2 1 1 
 
 Come, row the boat, row with all your power. 
 For the maiden is gone from De Freston*s Tower. 
 
 Row the boat, row ! 
 
 Yoho ! yoho ! 
 For the pride of the castle, fair Ellen, we go ! 
 
 Come, row the boat, row ! for the fairest maid 
 The roses we'll strew e'er the dew-drop fade. 
 
 Come, row the boat, row ! 
 
 Yoho ! yoho ! 
 For the pride of the castle, fair Ellen, we go ! 
 
 Then row the boat, row ! ye Levington boys. 
 For who would not welcome the true lovers' joys ? 
 
 Row the boat, row ! 
 
 Yoho ! yoho ! 
 To the bridal of Ellen ! fair Ellen, we go ! 
 
 The very metre of the old song gives 
 an idea of the boat pulled by stout rowers 
 in the vigour of youth, bent upon a scene 
 of festive rejoicing. 
 
 Levington was the first village on the 
 Orwell, celebrated for the cultivation of the 
 rose, which the Lord of the Manor of 
 
212 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 Levington Hall, Hugh de Fastolf, en- 
 couraged, and gave permission on the day 
 of the celebration of EUen's marriage for 
 the villagers to gather from the hall garden 
 as many as they could place in their boat 
 for the occasion ; so that the village maidens 
 who went up the Orwell in the Levington 
 boat, were literally in the midst of roses. 
 
 They arrived at St. Peter's Ford, to the 
 no small delight of hundreds who sought 
 for a bunch of flowers to scatter on the 
 maiden's path. 
 
 And ill the luck that maiden's lot. 
 Who had her flowrets then forgot. 
 Lest sorrow should her marriage mar. 
 Or fill the bridal day with care. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 213 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE MARRIAGE CEREMONY. 
 
 Children clad in white for the occasion, 
 children, whose parents, as well as them- 
 selves, had been partakers of the bounty of 
 Edmund Daundy, were, with their cheerful 
 happy faces, formed into two long rows from 
 the mansion as far almost as Wolsey's house. 
 Each had a significant flower in her hand, 
 that she might join her partner, who held a 
 corresponding flower on the opposite side of 
 the street, when the signal was given that the 
 bride was coming. 
 
214 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 In this manner, the two nearest of the 
 coming procession moved immediately for- 
 ward, exclaiming, or chaunting the short 
 couplet — 
 
 'Tis the bridal day. 
 Prepare the way, 
 
 Lead on ! lead on ! lead on ! 
 Come join our throng, 
 Come sing our song. 
 
 Be merry every one. 
 
 None began to sing until they joined 
 flowers, and each couple following the leader, 
 added their voices to those which went 
 before, until the whole street burst forth into 
 singing. 
 
 The graceful Ellen, amidst her honourable 
 maidens, walked through the respectftd 
 throng, and was met by a party of matrons, 
 friends, and relations, who conducted her to 
 the house of Daundy, where Latimer and a 
 great company of friends were ready to pro- 
 ceed to the church of St. Lawrence. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 215 
 
 All was done that could add to the gaiety 
 and joyful publicity of the marriage, and 
 according to the custom of the times, the 
 poor were not forgotten, but were allowed to 
 participate in the scene. The noble parents, 
 arm-in-arm, followed the bride, whilst Lati- 
 mer and his young men, invited by Edmund 
 Daundy, were in readiness to receive them 
 at the steps of his house. It took but a 
 few minutes to exchange the riding costume 
 for the flowing veils and simple white vest- 
 ments of the beautiful bride and her maids, 
 and then the happy pair, with their at- 
 tendants, proceeded to the church, whither 
 Wolsey had gone before. The organ 
 Daundy had presented to St. Lawrence had 
 been purchased in France, and was for its 
 day a wonderful instrument. Plaintive notes 
 had been for some time issuing from its 
 tubes, adapted to the stillness of the solitary 
 occupant then kneeling at the altar, as if he 
 
216 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 were performing the most abstracted and 
 spiritual devotion. 
 
 The heart of that man was not to be 
 envied. It had tormented itself with such 
 determined endurance, that nature was com- 
 pletely quelled. But it was not in him to 
 let even Ellen know that he was suffering 
 from the sting of disappointment. Nothing 
 would have been easier than for Wolsey to 
 have found an excuse for not performing the 
 ceremony. There was decided cruelty in the 
 thing, knowing as he certainly did, the state 
 of his own heart and sentiments towards 
 EUen ; but the pride of the man was predo- 
 minant ; and in a church and age when to 
 mortify the body with rigorous privation, was 
 a sign of the highest faith, it was not re- 
 markable that an ambitious man like Wolsey 
 should act as he did. 
 
 That Wolsey was a man who could com- 
 mand himself, by a resolute effort, was mani- 
 fested in this early indication of control ; but 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 217 
 
 that he did it with a bad grace, these pages 
 will prove. 
 
 Self-denial is a great virtue, but morose 
 and conceited self-immolation is no part of 
 pure religion. It is of the same nature as 
 the delusion that influences the devotees of 
 the East ; who with hooks in their flesh swing 
 themselves in a circle, till they lose strength, 
 reason, and life. The Suttee might be as 
 great as the learned Wolsey, and perform 
 even a greater act of devotion than he did, 
 for she willingly and cheerfully gives up her 
 body to be burnt ; but this proud man, 
 against his reason, against his judgment, and 
 in spite of himself, married the woman that 
 he loved to another man, and neither wished 
 nor prayed for her happiness. Had his act 
 been one of faith instead of superstition, it 
 woidd have been attended with consequences 
 far more productive of comfort, and happi- 
 ness to himself and others, than it was. 
 Faith can surmount difficulties, and glory in 
 VOL. II. L 
 
218 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 SO doing; but faith never places stumbling 
 blocks of iniquity in the way of the soul, that 
 it may leap over them, and appear glorious 
 in the sight of men. Learning in that 
 day was then confined in a great measure 
 to ecclesiastical establishments, and though 
 ignorance greatly prevailed among the monks 
 and monasteries, yet men of letters were 
 occasionally found among them, who were 
 bright stars of their day. If a noble was a 
 man of letters, he was indeed accounted a 
 wonder. It was something then to write, 
 but to write with any degree of purity was a 
 singular accomplishment. 
 
 On this account Lord De Freston and his 
 daughter were highly esteemed. Wolsey had 
 been alive indeed to the interest and influence 
 she had exercised in his favour : but she had 
 not been the least aware of having caused 
 him any deeper feeling than that of gratitude 
 for her exertions. His conduct had become 
 changed — very different from that of former 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 219 
 
 days, and certainly in her eyes it was not 
 improved; but she attributed this to the 
 position to which he had even then been 
 elevated. So altered were his words and 
 manners, that although he had come so far 
 to marry her, and to comply with her re- 
 quest she almost regretted that she had 
 disturbed his learned pui'suits at Magdalene. 
 There he was, however, to perform the cere- 
 mony ; and as the organ gradually increased 
 its swelling tones, as the bride and bride- 
 groom walked along the nave of the church, 
 the murmur of the multitude and the steps 
 of approaching feet, warned Wolsey that he 
 must prepare himself for the duty he had 
 undertaken. 
 
 He rose from his knees with the studied 
 gesture of a man about to confer a great 
 obligation, and summoning all the energy of 
 his robust frame, and the pride of his whole 
 heart — he appeared as immovable and as 
 firm as a commander of Roman cohorts 
 
 L 2 
 
220 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 going into battle. Every person in that 
 church, saving the bride, looked upon him 
 with wonder ; but she with downcast eyes 
 had not ventured to look up, even to behold 
 the countenance of the man who had been 
 so much her friend and companion from her 
 infancy. 
 
 Lord De Freston thought him ill, and was 
 upon the point of asking the curate of 
 St. Lawrence to take the duty, when the firm, 
 strong, clear and singularly sweet voice of 
 Wolsey, gave evidence that he was not so ill 
 as to require any assistance, though his face 
 was white as marble, and his lips livid as 
 death. 
 
 Just as the parent delivered up his child 
 for ever into the hands of her future hus- 
 band, and Wolsey received that fair hand to 
 unite it with that of his friend, he was ob- 
 served to shed a tear, which fell upon the 
 hand he was then holding. The maiden 
 lifted her eye to meet that of the priest's. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 221 
 
 There was agony depicted in it — intense 
 agony, that struck deeply into the tender 
 heart of EHen, and so completely overpowered 
 her, as to make her lean upon the arm of 
 Lord De Freston for support. She looked 
 not again at Wolsey — she heard his voice, 
 now softer and more subdued; and whilst 
 she was united to Latimer in the bonds of 
 matrimony, she became for the first moment 
 of her life conscious that Thomas Wolsey 
 might have loved her. She felt a pang, not 
 for herself, but in the thought that Wolsey 
 might be suffering from disappointment. 
 
 He did not give way : he performed the 
 ceremony, pronounced the blessing, ended the 
 service, and returned to the altar, and simply 
 told the verger he had a vow to complete, 
 so that the whole party returned without him 
 to the festive scene at the house of the 
 opulent merchant of Ipswich. 
 
 It was observed by Latimer, De Freston, 
 
222 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 and Daundy, that Ellen's usual flow of spirit, 
 and happy expression of countenance were 
 disturbed, and when the anxious bridegroom 
 sought by a plain question the cause of 
 depression, all she could say was, 
 
 " I wiU tell you another time, only be 
 assiu-ed that no friends here have in any- 
 thing made me sorrowful, and that it will 
 only be a short temporary depression, and 
 even now I feel revived." 
 
 How truly good and tender are the feel- 
 ings of a Christian heart. This wise, vir- 
 tuous, and affectionate daughter felt at the 
 moment, that she, her father and friends 
 might have been too pointedly interested in 
 young Wolsey's career; and have uninten- 
 tionally suffered him to hope for an alliance 
 which had never till that morning had a 
 thought in her brain. Her quick and sen- 
 sitive spirit soon saw through the change of 
 conduct which Wolsey had assumed, and 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 223 
 
 she shuddered to think of the possibility of 
 the sacred office of holy orders being taken 
 up in the moment of disappointment. 
 
 She was relieved in some measure by the 
 announcement which arrived, that Thomas 
 Wolsey had left town ; for with her percep- 
 tions at such a moment, it would have been 
 a source of suffering to her, to have seen him 
 at the grand feast which was then given in 
 honour of her nuptials. 
 
 Wolsey had cast off his vestments, and 
 repaired to the priest's gate, at the entrance 
 from the back lane adjoining the churchyard. 
 There stood his own steed, with his travelling 
 cloak and rough skinned trappings in which 
 he carried his change of linen. He was soon 
 in his saddle — gave the promised angel, and 
 taking the circuit of the town walls, pro- 
 ceeded immediately on his way to London. 
 He turned his back upon his native town, on 
 the very day of its most worthy rejoicing ; for 
 celebrated as Ipswich always has been for 
 
224 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 political animosities, its people in that day, as 
 well as in this, were glad of any common 
 event in which all parties might unite without 
 contention. And such was the moment of 
 their universally respected fellow-townsman's 
 popularity, when Lord De Freston, his daugh- 
 ter, and the bridegroom partook of the good 
 man's hospitality. 
 
 Wolsey, however, had left the town, and at 
 that time felt himself cut off from it for ever. 
 He had not so much as taken leave of his 
 mother, nor acquainted any one with his 
 intention. He wore a face of lamentation as 
 if he were going into exile, or to perform 
 penance for his sins. So severe had been 
 this blow, and the effort he had made to 
 bear it, that he would willingly have forgotten 
 every event of his childhood, his mother, his 
 kindred, and his connexions. 
 
 He pursued his way, a lonely and discon- 
 solate man, leaving cheerful faces behind 
 him, a sight he could ill have borne to see, 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 225 
 
 whilst the merry bells sent out their live- 
 liest tones, as if to mock the heart of a 
 man who could not enjoy the happiness of 
 another. Merry days do not last for ever, 
 and maiTiage days are not, among the wealthy, 
 of long enjoyment. 
 
 There is very httle joy to the heart of a 
 superstitious man ; there is always some 
 terror or other hanging over his head. Doing 
 nothing in faith, he has no joy in what he 
 does, though he may call it a duty to do it. 
 There are, indeed, some reckless spirits which 
 can laugh at every thing, treat every natural 
 feeling with contempt, and smile to see how 
 some men are tormented with true love, 
 whilst they are never plagued with such 
 things. Those spirits seem to lead a joyous 
 life ; but let their idol, the mammon of this 
 world, be taken away from them, neither 
 God nor man then sweetens the cup they have 
 to drink. 
 
 As Wolsey traversed the long narrow lane, 
 
 L 3 
 
226 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 with his pack-horse slowly pacing up the 
 hill, the last peal of the Ipswich bells fell on 
 his proud heart, and he wept. Man could no 
 longer see him. He had no longer to act a 
 part before those who knew him. He was 
 overcome by the associations of his youth. 
 
 •* No flowers for him were strewn that day, 
 No maidens graced his bridal day : 
 He trode the roses in the street, 
 And crushed them with indignant feet. 
 Another's bUss to him was woe. 
 And he sustain'd the deepest blow." 
 
 OLD POEM. 
 
 But merrily, merrily still rang the Ipswich 
 beUs, and the proud priest's heart was 
 touched. 
 
 Never was friendship more pure than that 
 shewn by Lord De Freston and his friends to 
 Wolsey ; but never was there less response 
 to those kindly affections in the heart of man 
 than in Wolsey at that moment. All he felt, 
 he felt for himself; aU he had done had been 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 227 
 
 to gratify himself; all he looked forward to 
 was for himself. His mother was nothing to 
 him; his friends and townsmen nothing; 
 Lord De Freston nothing ; Latimer nothing ; 
 and if for Ellen he once felt every thing, she 
 now was nothing. 
 
 The great man sighed — he groaned ; but 
 in another moment he said, " Wolsey, be a 
 man ! Spurn the past. Fulfil thy destiny, 
 and forget that ever thou didst love." 
 
228 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE REVELATION. 
 
 The marriage day had passed away as 
 the fleeting hours of mortal Hfe do, quickly, 
 and never to return ; and so it should be, for 
 if the past be but a prelude to future improve- 
 ment, few would wish it to return. 
 
 Latimer and the Lady Ellen were seated 
 in the large room of the mansion purchased 
 by Lord De Freston, situated in the centre of 
 the town of Ipswich. The present theatre 
 now occupies part of the site of the mansion. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 229 
 
 which, with its grounds opposite and behind 
 it, took up a large space, now densely popu- 
 lated. One old room in the Tankard public- 
 house still retains a portion of its pristine 
 beauty, and was then the handsomest room 
 in that ancient hall. It was here that the 
 bride and bridegroom received their friends, 
 who from all parts of the neighbourhood 
 came to pay them respect. 
 
 Their extensive garden then occupied the 
 area from the corner of Brook Street down 
 to the great Foundation School, in which 
 Wolsey had received the rudiments of his 
 education ; and the convent grounds con- 
 tained the school which was under the 
 superintendence of the Prior of St. Peter, 
 who had the power of fixing the salary of the 
 master. 
 
 It was a garden containing walks for the 
 public, and in it was the celebrated chapel of 
 the Virgin, to which Ellen repaired after the 
 fall of the Wykes Bishop's Palace. The 
 
230 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 ancient mansion overlooked that garden, and 
 Ellen and De Freston were seated in the 
 beautifully oak- panelled room, conversing upon 
 the past. They spoke of Alice de Clinton, 
 of the old palace, of the hermit of Holy Wells ; 
 and the reader may be sure they forgot not 
 the memorable night when Latimer reached 
 the stair of Lord de Freston's grounds, close 
 under Freston Tower. 
 
 Love likes to reflect upon the mercies of 
 God, and souls truly happy do ever remember 
 the past with such spirit of thankfulness, as 
 makes even imminent dangers the subject of 
 congratulation. 
 
 " Do you remember, EUen, that you pro- 
 mised to tell me why you were momentarily 
 cast down on the day of our wedding fes- 
 tivity ?" 
 
 " I do, William, and I can now freely con- 
 verse with you upon the subject. You must 
 have observed the young priest's agony when 
 the tear fell upon my hand, which he joined 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 231 
 
 with your own. I then looked up at his 
 face — and can I ever forgot the expres- 
 sion ? Never ! It told me, William, of 
 a truth, which seems to account to me now 
 for the strange alteration of his behaviour to 
 me, my father, his own relatives, and your- 
 self." 
 
 " What was that, Ellen ?" 
 
 " Simply this, William : that Wolsey had 
 a hope, to which he then bade farewell for 
 ever, that he might have possessed this hand 
 to which you were then entitled." 
 
 "It may be so, Ellen. But why then 
 place a barrier for ever against all hopes of 
 matrimonial alliance by entering into the 
 church ? He always appeared to me to be 
 destined for the office he holds ; and yet I 
 do remember his occasional depressions at 
 Oxford were only to be alleviated by a re- 
 ference to Freston Tower." 
 
 " Was it so, Latimer ? Then I fear the 
 
232 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 poor youth had imbibed a preference for my 
 society, which is indeed flattering to me, 
 though so fatal to himself. We were very 
 partial to him. He was always pleasant, 
 though at times impetuous and dic- 
 tatorial in his arguments. Can you not 
 now pity him, WiUiam, if he did imagine, 
 in the ardour of his literary pursuits, that 
 I should one day be his companion? 
 All things considered, he must have 
 endured what scarcely any other man could 
 have borne. I do now see through the 
 whole of his conduct. I fear he has done 
 violence to his better nature in the steps he 
 has taken to prove to us all the sublimity of 
 his faith." 
 
 "I can now account for aU his strange 
 behaviour. Yet, if he had succeeded — " 
 
 " What, William ?" 
 
 " I might have been as wretched as him- 
 self." 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 233 
 
 " May my whole life prove that I estimate 
 the sacrifice you would have made of self 
 upon the altar of friendship. But how will 
 Thomas Wolsey take this hlow ?" 
 
 " That remains to he seen. He is not 
 a man to sink under misfortune. He will 
 devote himself to great objects. His learning 
 will be a passport to greatness, and Oxford 
 will afford him a fine field for the display 
 of his talents. He will be a great man in 
 the Church." 
 
 " I wish he may be a good one ! His 
 views are seemingly very much exalted by 
 his priesthood, and personal pride has not 
 permitted him to display either that amiabi- 
 lity or generosity of opinion, in letters or 
 in religion, which formerly he seemed to 
 possess. It would be strange if his great 
 mind should be narrowed by his assumption 
 of the priesthood." 
 
 " It would indeed be a great misfortune ; 
 for a nobler nature than Wolsey 's, and a 
 
234 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 more generous, frank and liberal disposition 
 scarcely ever inhabited the breast of man 
 when I first introduced him at Oxford. His 
 manners, his knowledge of letters, his talents, 
 were aU open, clear, candid, and at the 
 free gift and service of others. He is now 
 a priest of Rome. He cannot forget his 
 learning, but it is doubtful whether he will 
 use it for the good of his countrymen or for 
 his own ambition. Rome, I fear, will 
 scarcely let him think and act for himself, 
 and certainly not for the great objects which 
 now seem to be attracting the eyes of the 
 learned in the spirit of the Reformation. 
 Wolsey might do great things ; but will 
 he? Had he but the heart of WicklifFe, 
 what might not England see him pro- 
 duce?" 
 
 " We shaU see, Latimer. He cannot be 
 ignorant; he may be bigoted and worldly- 
 minded, but he cannot be ignorant of the 
 truth. We are to visit our dear father at 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 235 
 
 Freston Hall to-day. How I love to see 
 him enjoying his books and our company ! 
 What a pleasure is it, WiUiam, to a 
 daughter to promote the happiness of her 
 father !" 
 
 ''And what a pleasure to a son-in-law 
 to know that parent loves him as if he were 
 his own child. Oh, Ellen ! if there be a 
 joy on this earth, it is when we please our 
 parents and honour their gray hairs, and 
 bless them for those providential comforts 
 which, beneath the mercy of God, they are 
 enabled to bestow upon us. We shall visit 
 our old haunt in the tower, ever fresh to 
 me, Ellen ; never out of my eyes. I often 
 dream of it, and sometimes see the lamp 
 burning in youi' favourite room ; and then 
 I am riding on the broken timber in the 
 midst of the waves, or struggling against 
 the tide to gain the shore — I awake, and 
 think, and am thankful !" 
 
 Noon was the dinner-hour in that day, 
 and the bride and bridegroom, respected 
 
236 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 as they were, could not pass through that 
 busy town of Ipswich without many a bless- 
 ing ; for, great as they were, and connected 
 with the noblest and wealthiest, they forgot 
 not the poor, and were not themselves for- 
 gotten. 
 
 With joy did they revisit the scenes of 
 their early attachment, and awaken the spirit 
 of love among a people always ready to 
 acknowledge that which was honest and 
 lovely. 
 
 De Freston had made good use of that 
 time, which was now more solitary in one 
 sense, but more engaging in another. He 
 had been reading with more profound at- 
 tention the records of the olden time — the 
 history of the Fathers, and the progress 
 of that revelation through the instrumen- 
 tality of the inspired Apostles, and those 
 who lived nearest to them. The more he 
 read, the more he became convinced of the 
 sublime doctrine of the Great Atonement, 
 and the purity and holiness of that religion 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 237 
 
 which the ancient Fathers professed. He 
 was forcibly struck by the simplicity of their 
 canons, and the manner of spirit in which 
 they sought to conduct the affairs of the 
 Church. He made himself master of their 
 doctrine, arguments and lives, and observed 
 how strictly they sought to establish the 
 essentials of vital piety, founded upon the 
 Scriptures, rather than the introduction of 
 novelties and the development of fancies. 
 The more he read, the more earnestly did 
 he pray that his reading might become 
 beneficial to his own soul, and to that of 
 others. His was a great mind, a pious 
 mind, with a sohd, rational and lively faith, 
 which was indeed a rare thing in that day 
 among the nobles of England. There was, 
 indeed, a spirit abroad, as has already been 
 seen, inducing inquiry, questioning the right 
 of the Pope to be above all Scripture and 
 Revelation ; and some few were even then 
 beginning to search the Scriptures for them- 
 
238 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 selves, that they might be enabled to give 
 an answer to the important question : What 
 is truth ? 
 
 Among them stood Lord De Freston, 
 foremost in the neighbourhood of Ipswich, 
 one of the first to institute that inquiry 
 among the learned monks of Alneshborne, 
 which led to the conversion of Prior John, 
 and to the enlightenment of his fraternity. It 
 has been stated that he was very intimate 
 with the learned John. That intimacy 
 had increased since the marriage of his 
 daughter, and had been productive of much 
 intercourse between the domains of the 
 priory and those of De Freston. 
 
 It was no surprise to Latimer or his 
 wife when they arrived at the castle, to 
 find John of Alneshborne a guest at the 
 table of their father. It was a surprise to 
 them, indeed, to find this learned monk 
 a convert to the already greatly advanced 
 wisdom of De Freston. For a monk to enter- 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 239 
 
 tain opinions having the least approximation to 
 the universal spread of Divine Truth, was 
 a wonder in that day — but to find one, 
 the head of a learned fraternity, remarkable 
 for retirement, penance and bodily infliction, 
 become an advocate for the dissemination 
 of the whole Word of God and the Truth, 
 was indeed a marvel. 
 
 John of Alneshborne was a rare instance 
 of humility, and though he was respected 
 by all the religious houses with which he 
 was connected, both in England and on the 
 Continent, his views gained him many 
 enemies, much persecution, his final ejection 
 from his priory; but a happy rest in the 
 mansion of his friend and patron. Lord 
 De Freston, who had been instrumental 
 in leading this learned man to a far more 
 liberal view of divinity than the life of soli- 
 tary nothingness which he spent within the 
 cloistered walls of his establishment. 
 
 As he had been conducive to his study 
 
240 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 of the Scriptures, and of the early usages 
 of the Christian Church, contrasted with 
 the presumption of the Popes and their 
 universal subjugation of men's consciences 
 to dogmas, instead of doctrine, and all their 
 outward prostrations, impositions, fooleries, 
 idolatries and indulgences, in the place of 
 inward purification and love of God and 
 man, so when he was degraded and deprived 
 of his power, this noble Lord was the first 
 to open his doors, and say : " My house is 
 your home." 
 
 These events transpired after the period 
 of which this narrative is now treating. 
 But the way was then preparing, even when 
 EUen and her husband paid their first visit 
 of any length to the hall of their youth. 
 
 " Ha ! Prior John here !" exclaimed La- 
 timer. " It gives me great joy to see thee 
 on this side the water. I thought I should 
 one day see thee here and shake thee by 
 the hand in our father's mansion ; and here 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 241 
 
 thou art. Ellen, here is an old friend with a 
 new face." 
 
 The monk started, for even then he felt it 
 strange that his countenance should in the 
 least betray the alteration of his heart and 
 mind. 
 
 " How dost thou call my face new, my 
 son ? Am I grown more grey ; or are the 
 lines of my features become more sharp ?" 
 
 " No, father, no ! but yet there is an 
 alteration in thy very appearance — in the 
 smile with which thou greetest us, and in the 
 expression of thy countenance which, though 
 the prevailing feature be anxiety, is yet some- 
 thing new for thee to wear." 
 
 " Upon my word, young man, thy percep- 
 tions are wonderMly sharpened by matri- 
 mony. Thou mayst perceive in me, what I 
 cannot discover in myself. Perhaps thou 
 wilt be disposed to attribute this alteration of 
 my features to the kind and hospitable recep- 
 tion of the lord of this mansion.'' 
 
 VOL. II, M 
 
242 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 " I may do that sincerely, father, and it is 
 always a good sign when the nobles of a land 
 call forth the lively learning and cheerful 
 spirits of those who spend too many of their 
 days in retirement. I rejoice to see thee 
 here." 
 
 " And I to be here, my son ; and to see 
 thee and the fair prize thou hast borne away 
 from the banks of the Orwell." 
 
 " Nay, father, I have not yet left the lovely 
 banks of this noble river, though I have 
 become a resident in the town of Ipswich; 
 and I shall be happy to exercise the duties of 
 hospitality towards thee, as well there as in 
 this present place ; and I tell thee again, that 
 I believe thine ascetic "face wiH assume even 
 there a more generous character than it does 
 here." 
 
 " Alas 1 my son, I have spent years of 
 solitude in my priory, and am little ac- 
 customed to the intercourse of any but our 
 pwn fraternity. If long habits of privation, 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 243 
 
 and a complete exclusion from that world in 
 which I was once too great a participator in 
 my youth ; if, indeed, the heavy burthen of 
 my sins, and of one great crime can be 
 atoned for, by years of penitential devotion to 
 solitude and prayer, and study, such as 1 
 have pursued, I may hope that I have some 
 merit, in depriving myself of the society of 
 my fellow-creatiu-es, that I may commune 
 with my God." 
 
 " Ha ! my father ! And dost thou think 
 thou hast atoned by these privations for thine 
 early indulgences in sin ? Thou and I se e 
 things in a wonderfully different light. To my 
 mind, thou art seeking thine own righteous- 
 ness and not submitting thyself to the 
 righteousness of God. If thou couldst fla- 
 gellate thy flesh until thy skin was excoriated 
 from the crown of thine head to the sole of 
 thy foot; if thou couldst count thy beads 
 from sunrise to sunset, and from night until 
 morning every year of thy life; if thou 
 
 M 2 
 
244 FRESTON TQSVER. 
 
 couldst walk barefoot from Rome to Jeru- 
 salem, or from one end of the world to the 
 other ; shave thy head, wear sackcloth all thy 
 days, and never smile upon youth or life; 
 thou couldst make no atonement for the very 
 least of thy sins; much less for any crime 
 which weighs heavy on thy conscience ?" 
 
 " Ha ! my son, wouldst thou have had me 
 go on in my career unto perdition ?" 
 
 "No, father! assuredly not; but I would 
 not have thee go to perdition in another way, 
 by renouncing one sin for a greater." 
 
 " How so, my son ?" 
 
 " Thou hast renounced society, of which 
 thou might'st have been an ornament, and 
 the opportunity of doing good to thy fellow- 
 creatures, by leading them to see their errors, 
 and helping them to correct their lives, by 
 thine example ; and hast taken upon thyself 
 to work out thy salvation by thine own 
 righteousness ; or, at least, by calling that a 
 life of faith which is, indeed, a life of pre- 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 245 
 
 sumption. Pardon my boldness, father, but 
 we will converse of these things another time, 
 and let me tell thee it is the consciousness of 
 this truth which makes thee wear a different 
 face." 
 
 "My son, thou art right, but I owe not 
 this conviction to thine argument but to his, 
 whose guest I am." 
 
 " And I am his debtor for kindness which 
 my life cannot repay." 
 
 '* I have listened," said the Lord De 
 Freston, "to your conversation; but let us 
 not make hospitality to consist of words. 
 Come, my dearest friends, I am a debtor to 
 you all, and the only way I can repay you is 
 to place my house at your service." 
 
 " And so make us greater debtors still." 
 
 " As long as we owe each other nothing 
 but love, we can give, take, borrow, lend, 
 exchange and demand compound interest for 
 our loan, and yet be none of us usurers, but 
 friends ; so let us to the banquet hall," 
 
246 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 It was in such spirit that these friends 
 met, and as may be supposed, the inter- 
 change of affection was of that kind which, 
 free from bigotry and superstition, promoted 
 good-will and charity, and was honourable in 
 the sight of God and man. 
 
 Still this very intimacy between such 
 enlightened beings became a tool for working 
 mischief, in the hands of those whose 
 ignorance was only excelled by their cruelties, 
 and, as we shall see, led to the sorrow of 
 some, but to the joy of a great many. 
 
PRESTON TOWER 247 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE PUNISHMENT. 
 
 WoLSEY returned to Oxford resolved to 
 think no more of Ipswich, the Orwell, 
 Freston Tower, Ellen, or the scenes of his 
 youth. There was a singular reaction of 
 life in him about this time, for which some 
 of his warmest friends could not account. 
 The learned, laborious, enterprising scholar, 
 became the indefatigable architect, devoting 
 the energies of his great mind to the orna- 
 menting the loftiest stories of his magnificent 
 tower. 
 
248 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 The funds of his college, assisted by 
 contributions from noblemen and gentlemen 
 connected with Oxford, and from all whom 
 he could inspire with something of his own 
 spirit, were devoted to that building. Both 
 Wolsey's and Latimer's Tower are still 
 standing ; one still preserved in all its 
 grandeur as a noble feature of Oxford ; the 
 other lonely and deserted, still looks over 
 the lovely river Orwell, and is the wonder 
 of all who sail down to Harwich. 
 
 Wolsey's Tower, splendid as it was, was 
 not without deep mortification to the great 
 man. Men who understood not his design 
 abused it, and reports of his extravagance 
 were set afloat. When mentioned to the 
 bursar, they only excited his contempt; for 
 Wolsey well knew that he honoured his 
 college by not robbing her of fiinds left for 
 the encouragement of learned men, and whilst 
 he expended so much in raising a monument 
 to his own magnificence, he did not mis- 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 249 
 
 apply one single angel to that work which 
 was legally and justly devoted to other 
 purposes. The fact was, that as the Tower 
 was near its completion, and was seen to be 
 so fair an ornament to the University, 
 he received from other colleges pecuniary 
 assistance, and never burthened his own with 
 the expence. 
 
 His mind was greatly diverted by the 
 interest he took in the accomplishment of 
 this undertaking ; and if any one was im- 
 poverished by it, it was Wolsey himself, 
 who expended his utmost farthing in its 
 completion. 
 
 Yet, however diverted, he was not in- 
 sensible to the carpings of some, and the 
 inadequacy of his private finances. So 
 that when the work was done, the scaffolding 
 taken down, and it stood exposed in all its 
 elegance, like every other great performance 
 of man's hand and mind, it gave not its 
 
 M 3 
 
250 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 author the satisfaction he anticipated, but 
 occasioned him much annoyance. 
 
 Few men hve to see their own works 
 admired, and it is well perhaps they do not, 
 for if their only pleasure in them is the 
 thought of man's admiration, and not the 
 employment of their time and talents from a 
 high sense of duty, which alone gives 
 pleasure, they would be elevated and de- 
 pressed by critical declamations to an un- 
 reasonable extent. 
 
 Soon after Wolsey had built his Tower, 
 he left the University to go and reside upon 
 the living of Lymington, which the Marquis 
 of Dorset had bestowed upon him for the 
 care and attention he had paid to the 
 education of his sons. His fame had been 
 by this time, pretty well disseminated among 
 all the nobility and gentry who valued 
 literature. The boy bachelor had become 
 the great Oxford man ; and Magdalen Tower 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 251 
 
 had given him a name for taste and elegance 
 which, in those days of internal disruption 
 between the Houses of York and Lancaster, 
 had been almost forgotten. 
 
 When Wolsey left Oxford he seemed to 
 break off from the accustomed restraint of 
 scholastic discipline, which he had acquired 
 during his situation as tutor and school- 
 master. Men were surprised to find the 
 staid and learned priest the free and joyous 
 companion in the country, the life and 
 soul of the great houses throughout the 
 counties of Somerset, Dorset and Hants. 
 
 The Marquis of Dorset had introduced 
 him to the resident gentry around him, 
 and he met at his hospitable board Sir 
 John Nafant, who became particularly 
 attached to him. He delighted to hear 
 him discourse, and encouraged him in all 
 his sallies of wit. From Sir John he 
 received repeated invitations to partake of 
 hospitaHty ; and, though their years were 
 
252 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 dissimilar, their tastes for literature and 
 knowledge were alike. 
 
 Wolsey made a great impression upon this 
 worthy knight, who not only conversed with 
 him upon affairs of state, as then existing 
 in England, but corresponded with him upon 
 foreign aifairs, and was equally astonished 
 at his comprehensive estimate of the resources 
 of the kingdoms of Europe. 
 
 Sir John did not forget to make a very 
 handsome tribute offering to Wolsey, in 
 acknowledgment of those talents which he 
 displayed. 
 
 To none had Wolsey revealed the early 
 disappointment he had met with, which he 
 neither then nor afterwards — though fields 
 of ambition and vain glory lay in his way — 
 could totally forget. 
 
 Neither cloistered walls, nor lofty battle- 
 ments ; neither profound learning, nor great 
 estates, can change a man who has once 
 imbibed licentiousness of spirit, and suffered 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 253 
 
 it to usurp the place of love in the human 
 heart. A man who does wrong, and persists 
 in it without shame, let the wrong be the 
 transgression of any moral commandment of 
 God, will find a very poor excuse for his 
 conduct, however much he may be devoted 
 to learning, and to art or science. 
 
 No robes, however white, which a man 
 can put on, will cover the licentiousness of a 
 corrupt heart. No crown — not even the 
 triple one which adorns the head of the 
 Pope — can free a man from the troubles 
 of conscience. Better for him to cease to 
 do evil, and learn to do well, than to bestow 
 aU his estates upon the priesthood who may 
 mutter masses for his soul, which can never 
 be released from sin but by the obedience of 
 faith. 
 
 Sir Amias Pawlet, a knight whom Wolsey 
 met one day at the table of the Marquis of 
 Dorset, was a man of very different character 
 to Sir John Nafant. He saw with a jealous 
 
254 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 eye the ambition of this young priest, who 
 seemed to delight in holding him up to 
 the company as an ignorant county magis- 
 trate. Wolsey was certainly not gifted just 
 at this time with that amiability of mind 
 and temper, which could brook the over- 
 bearing arrogance of a man who seemed to 
 think himself superior to all others in the 
 country. 
 
 At the table of his patron, Wolsey scarcely 
 refrained from exposing his ignorance. He 
 narrated a very simple and pithy story about 
 a pullet who assumed all the dignity of the 
 dunghill, and looked down with contempt 
 on all other fowls. He exposed the want 
 of judgment and flippant manner of the 
 pullet with such force and pointed wit, that 
 Sir Amias, who perceived it to be levelled 
 at him, was greatly disconcerted, and 
 threatened Wolsey, for being a public 
 slanderer, with the penalty of the law. 
 
 It is certain that Wolsey's proud spirit 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 255 
 
 was not humbled, but that he, with a little 
 more pretension to learning, was not less 
 tyrannical. Sir Amias Pawlet cared nothing 
 for him. He was a man of principle — a 
 plain, straightforward man — grave, austere, 
 and proud. He was not deficient in spirit, 
 and a love of truth and propriety, though 
 he was neither equal to Wolsey, Sir John 
 Nafant, or the Marquis of Dorset, in letters 
 or a knowledge of the world. He was one 
 of those strong-minded men, attached to the 
 good laws of the land he lived in, and jealous 
 too for the dignity of the church to which 
 he belonged. He was not, at the time here 
 treated of, a convert to the then growing 
 liberation of the souls of men from the 
 corruptions of that superstition which en- 
 compassed all Christendom, but he was 
 sensibly alive to the necessity of propriety in 
 the character of the priesthood, and a man 
 who was too earnest and sincere in his pro- 
 
256 FRKSTON TOWER. 
 
 fession of religion to admit of any licentious- 
 ness. 
 
 It was not likely that such a man coming 
 in contact with the learned and expansive 
 genius of the young Wolsey, should shine 
 before him. He did not, for he bent not 
 to the idol of popular greatness, when he 
 saw in him a regard only for things ex- 
 pedient, and a certain freedom of speech and 
 behaviour, even in the company of the 
 gentry of those countries, which ill became 
 the Oxford divine, the tutor of the Marquis 
 of Dorset's sons, and the great scholar of 
 Magdalen. 
 
 " I like not your country squire, most noble 
 Peer," said Wolsey, to the Marquis : "he 
 is ignorant and positive, sturdy and absolute, 
 and would do better for a jailer than for 
 a magistrate of this county." 
 
 "I like not yoin* visitor, my Lord," said 
 Sir Amias to the Marquis. "He is much 
 too clever and intriguing for my liking. He, 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 257 
 
 no doubt, would be a very convenient father 
 confessor ; but I should as soon think of 
 looking for absolution to your Lordship's 
 bloodhound as to him." 
 
 Now the Marquis was fully convinced that 
 the priest of Lymington and the knight of 
 the shire were distasteful to each other ; but 
 as he respected both, he kept his own 
 counsel, and did not interfere with their 
 respective animosities. 
 
 It was no small sin in those days to 
 speak anything disrespectful of the priest- 
 hood. Rome had such authority over the 
 nobility, had invented so many intrigues of 
 priestcraft, and had obtained such an ascen- 
 dancy over the families of the great, that 
 she employed qualified spies in every house, 
 to subject the inmates to penances, and 
 works of her own imposition, even for the 
 slightest offences, with which she could have 
 nothing to do, and which could never take 
 away one single fault. 
 
258 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 Sir Amias, however, was not to be 
 imposed upon by any requirements on 
 the part of the priesthood to which 
 they did not themselves submit : and 
 in his own family he was strict and con- 
 scientious, and expected his priest to be the 
 same. 
 
 It was about this time that one of his 
 own servants returned from the neighbouring 
 fair in a state of intoxication. The man 
 was brought before his master, who at that 
 very time was conversing with the confessor 
 of his own family. 
 
 " How now, knave ? this is not the first 
 time thou hast been in bad company; thou 
 didst promise to avoid, such men, if I forgave 
 thee. Thou shalt be put into the stocks, 
 that all the country may know thee for a 
 drunkard as thou art." 
 
 The half-witted man, who was sufficiently 
 sober to comprehend what was said to him, 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 259 
 
 and was sufficiently filled with sack not to 
 be afraid of his master, looked very knowingly 
 at him and the confessor. 
 
 " I's been in good company, master, 
 very good ; and if the stocks are lifted 
 up for my legs, I hope you'll give me some 
 o' the good company I ha' been in, to keep 
 me in countenance there. There's many 
 more like me, master ; and there's one there 
 OS good as yoursel — or your reverence," 
 bowing to the priest. " You're very even- 
 handed, master, and my good company I've 
 been in, might qualify even a better man 
 than me to be a little merry. I's only like 
 my betters." 
 
 The knight looked at the priest ; and 
 the priest looked at the man ; and both 
 were puzzled at his words — but they did 
 not speak at the moment. 
 
 " Why you looks doubtful, both on you. 
 Go and see; I's not so drunk as not to 
 
260 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 know an owl when I sees one, though it 
 might be the dusk of the evening when 
 he flies ! Go you with master : you'll 
 see !" 
 
 " Where are we to go, and what are we to 
 see?" 
 
 " Go to the Masque and Mummers — and 
 if you don't see one you dare not put in 
 the stocks, then don't put your own servant 
 in ; but if you dare to see him, and dare 
 to take him, and dare to trap him too — why 
 then trap me with him, and we'll be very 
 good company for each other. So, master, 
 I'm your man ; and when you find a poor 
 fellow imitating his betters, let his betters 
 find the same law is made for him as 
 for one o' the worst, like me." 
 
 Sir Amias rose. He was not a man 
 to flinch in the execution of the law in- 
 trusted to him as a magistrate ; and to his 
 honour be it recorded, he was not an unjust 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 261 
 
 man, who would screen the rich at the 
 expense of the poor. Had it been the 
 Marquis of Dorset himself, he would have 
 treated him exactly as he would a drunken 
 vagabond, who had not a shilling to help 
 himself. 
 
 ^' There is too much truth in this fellow's 
 audacity," he replied, " to let this matter pass 
 away unnoticed. It will be thrown in my 
 teeth by every servant I have, after this, if I 
 dismiss this villain and see not the company 
 he has been in. Come, I wiU claim your 
 companionship. Let us go undisguised and 
 openly, that he, and all men may see what 
 we do in the face of the law and our 
 country." 
 
 Sir Amias desired his servants to take the 
 knave to the village stocks. *' There wait," 
 said he, " my company ; and if I find a com- 
 panion in the state of intoxication he is in, 
 let him be the King's son, my loyalty to his 
 
262 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 father shall make the law take its course, even 
 with this fool." 
 
 So spoke Sir Amias, and his resolution 
 was equal to his words. The knight and the 
 priest set forth, and went as directed to the 
 Masque and Mummers. He had no definite 
 idea as to the issue of his proceeding; but 
 like a brave soldier, strong in the fulfilment 
 of his duty, he marched up to the scene of 
 riot, taking with him such constables as he 
 thought fit for the occasion. 
 
 A man of less determination might have 
 been deterred from going to the scene. A 
 man with less sense of honour would not 
 have done as he did ; and a man, who feared 
 God and honoured the King less, would have 
 been afraid to put the law in execution upon 
 a man who presumed to be of an order 
 above all law, and yet chose to trans- 
 gress. 
 
 Amidst a set of mummers, masks, and 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 263 
 
 profligates, smugglers, and debauchees, who 
 should be holding forth with spirits inflated 
 with sack, but Wolsey, the priest of Lyming- 
 ton. Sir Amias did not parley with him in 
 the least ; though, in a moment, the fiery 
 priest turned upon him all the gibes of the 
 company, and in his drunken revel, held him 
 up to ridicule before them. 
 
 It has been said, the knight was uncour- 
 teous ; but though he knew that men would 
 accuse him of spite, he cared not for any one 
 in the discharge of his duty. The law is 
 never stronger than when it deals equal 
 justice to all. Sir Amias felt that he could 
 not punish his own servant for a fault, which 
 the leader of the parish was himself guilty of, 
 without making him an example of the same 
 punishment. 
 
 He at once put the law into execution, and 
 with such determined resolution, that the 
 very company who, the moment before, were 
 
264 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 disposed to laugh at the knight, were the 
 first to join in roars of ridicule at the priest 
 of Lymington in the village stocks. He was, 
 indeed, laid by the heels by the gallant Sir 
 Amias; a spectacle of justice such as did no 
 injury even to the man who endured it, but 
 served him right, not only because he ought 
 to have known better, but because he did 
 know better, and was the worst of the 
 two. 
 
 The two drunkards were a contrast, even 
 in their cups. The servant boasted of his 
 company; and the priest railed against the 
 law, the knight, the stocks, and the people, 
 and threatened them all with the anathemas 
 of Rome. Neither he nor his companion were 
 released till they were sober. One lost his 
 situation as the servant of Sir Amias, and the 
 other found himself so uncomfortable in the 
 company either of nobles or commoners, after 
 this affront to his dignity, that he resigned 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 265 
 
 his living into the hands of his patron ; and 
 accepted the office of secretary to Sir 
 John Nafant, who was then governor of 
 Calais. 
 
 VOL. TT. 
 
266 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE MONASTERIES. 
 
 The space allotted to this work will not be 
 wide enough to embrace the gradual progress 
 of Wolsey to that greatness which he 
 attained. The object in view was to shew 
 that he was anything but a mean man in his 
 birth, though had that been so, it would have 
 been no disgrace, and that he was brought 
 up in his youth with an early love of every 
 thing that was generous, and praiseworthy. 
 It was not until his youthful disappointment 
 had left him nothing but the pursuit of his 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 2W 
 
 own gratification in the fields of ambition 
 and vain-glory, that Wolsey's character 
 changed from a lover of truth, virtue, and 
 humihty, to become an aspiring, time-serving 
 politician. 
 
 It is strange that a man who had assumed 
 the priesthood, at that time the vehicle of 
 letters in some few, but of enormous bigotry 
 and superstition in the mass, should bury his 
 love of truth in the vast vortex of worldly 
 ambition. He left truth to shine in his 
 native place, whilst he pursued the phantom 
 of idolatry through all the labyrinths of 
 expedient invention. His love of literature 
 he could not abandon. It was part and 
 parcel of his life, which remained with him 
 through all his progress, and has served to 
 extend his fame through ages of darkness, 
 even to the present time. His erudition 
 was, beyond all doubt, genuine and 
 powerful. 
 
 He took no particular delight in en- 
 
 N 2 
 
268 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 couraging individual instances of mental 
 superiority, though the learned Erasmus 
 speaks so flatteringly of his sumptuous 
 entertainments to the stars of genius, as to 
 make a seat at his table one of the things 
 most to be desired in England. From the 
 great men of letters in his day, he never 
 called forth a sentiment of gratitude for any 
 encouragement he had given them. With 
 the exception of Sir Thomas Moore, scarcely 
 any literary character received any support 
 from him ; and in him he supported a 
 successor. 
 
 His views comprehended the revival of the 
 whole people from ignorance by the means of 
 scholastic discipline ; and his ideas of the 
 diffusion of learning were connected with 
 schools, seminaries, and colleges, the very 
 architecture of which should speak the taste 
 of their projector. 
 
 Wolsey had, in early life, imbibed a species 
 of contempt for the monastic impositions 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 269 
 
 which retained the people in ignorance, but 
 he could not become indifferent to the lustre 
 of the papacy to which his soul aspired ; no, 
 not even for the sake of truth. It was hence 
 that his patronage of the literature he so 
 much admired as the production of the 
 universities and schools, became confined to 
 men who upheld the Papal dominion. 
 
 He obtained power as legate to subdue the 
 monasteries, only because he conceived that 
 their wealth would be converted into a 
 channel more conducive to the dignity and 
 grandeur of Rome ; and as the popedom was 
 in his ambitious eye, the very kingdom of all 
 kingdoms of the earth, and he was the man 
 to sit upon that throne, he thought by 
 entitling himself to the respect of England 
 for his encouragement of learning, he should 
 one day receive the distinction he coveted. 
 
 He was made to do much for letters, but 
 little for the truth. His persecution of the 
 Reformers will sufficiently prove this. But 
 
270 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 whilst Wolsey journeyed to power, the 
 friends of his youth journeyed to heaven 
 through a straight and narrow path, which 
 was not suited to his ambition. 
 
 Lord De Freston, Latimer, and Ellen, and a 
 few more independent and eminent spirits in 
 the neighbourhood of Ipswich, became candi- 
 dates for the crown of glory through the 
 medium of persecution. 
 
 Love, truth, fidelity, wisdom, knowledge, 
 peace and joy, together with some warm 
 friendship from kindred spirits of intelligence, 
 made the years roll on, not without a glowing 
 interest, hope and persuasion, that ultimately 
 the doctrines of the dawning reformation 
 would prevail. 
 
 As Wolsey's power increased, there was a 
 certain increase of learning which added 
 much to the desired improvement of morals 
 among the Romish clergy, who, at that time, 
 were notorious for licentiousness, because of 
 the ease with which they could both obtain 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 271 
 
 and grant pardons. The monasteries, though 
 the seats of hospitality, were also the seats of 
 imposition and secret vice, which became at 
 last so glaring, as to awaken strong minds to 
 a sense of their shameless prostitution. 
 
 Wolsey, who had risen to the dignity of 
 Cardinal, took advantage of the cry then 
 rising, to sweep off the lesser houses, and to 
 impose certain fines upon others for the 
 benefit of his foundations of learning. He 
 occasioned, as would naturally be expected, 
 gi'eat grief in some districts, where the 
 monks were far less vicious than in others ; 
 but it was a strange infatuation in him, that 
 whilst he was pulling down with one hand 
 the monasteries and monks, he should be 
 with the other encouraging the nunneries, 
 which were then attaining such wealth as 
 to make them desired by the great. 
 
 News reached Ipswich, that the great man 
 himself, though so austere and severe to- 
 
272 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 wards the inferior clergy, was anything but a 
 pattern of virtue. 
 
 "I have here," said Latimer to the Lord 
 De Freston, " a singular production of Dan 
 Lydgate's ; and if our friend in power should 
 catch sight of it, it might so happen, that 
 even Lydgate would lose his priesthood : 
 
 Alice De Clinton, 
 Prioress of "Winton, 
 
 Summer's for thee no more ; 
 The Cardinal's favour 
 Has in it such savour. 
 
 Thou shalt not long deplore. 
 
 Winter were summer known, 
 Melting for such a crown, 
 
 Ahce De Clinton's call : 
 The proud one can change 
 From her haughtiest range. 
 
 O'er the turrets of Goldwell Hall, 
 
 The Abbess De Winter, 
 No matter the splinter. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 273 
 
 Is fit for the priory found, 
 And the Winton nims. 
 Whom nobody shuns. 
 
 Shall in Winter fires abound. 
 
 O, who would not bend. 
 To the Cardinal's friend. 
 
 Be she what she may chance to be ; 
 For 'tis better for her, 
 Sucha place to prefer. 
 
 So becoming her dignity. 
 
 " Singular, indeed, it is. I hear that 
 Warham has complained to the King of his 
 favourite's proceedings, and the great Wolsey 
 is hkely to be in disgrace.'' 
 
 "I heard as much through Went worth, 
 only yesterday, who was telling me also, that 
 the Cardinal had made his peace with the 
 King, by protesting that the appointment of 
 the Abbess of Winton was only under the 
 
 N 3 
 
274 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 hope, or at least, with the proviso, that the 
 King approved it." 
 
 " Did you hear the King's commands to 
 the Cardinal ? * See to it, Wolsey, this ap- 
 pointment displeases us. We are not used 
 to exalt proud ladies, who can be humble only 
 as it may suit my Lord Cardinal. Thou 
 mayst protect thine own favourites, but not 
 at the cost of the church, my Lord. There- 
 fore, for shame's sake, let us not have this 
 monstrous fair one made the Abbess of 
 Winton.' " 
 
 " Ah, my Lord De Freston, this is no 
 news then unto thee; but I can perchance 
 tell thee something which, as yet, thou 
 knowest not ; for only as I left Ipswich, did 
 the messenger arrive. The imperious Allen 
 and his executioners have arrived to suppress 
 the monasteries of Suffolk, and confiscate all 
 the revenues to the crown. A court will be 
 held to-morrow at the priory of St. Peters ; 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 275 
 
 and Alneshbome, as being one of the smaller 
 fraternities, will be one of the first to suffer. 
 Our friend John must be apprised of his 
 coming." 
 
 " He will not be surprised. Already has 
 he received tidings of the suppression of the 
 religious houses in Essex and Cambridge- 
 shire, and though a vague thought had dwelt 
 with him that from Wolsey's knowledge of 
 the regularity and piety of his order he might 
 be spared, more especially as the great man, 
 when a Httle man, was a welcome student 
 within the walls of his priory, yet we shall 
 find him prepared to obey the Pope's legate 
 in temporalities, and that is all he supposes 
 that will be required of him. We will visit 
 him ourselves, my son." 
 
 It did not take long for De Freston's boat- 
 men to speed over the waves of Orwell to 
 Alneshborne Priory. Short, however, as was 
 the time, they found the whole fraternity 
 assembled in the hall to hear the summons 
 
276 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 already issued by authority of the legate. So 
 quickly did the Cardinal's emissaries proceed 
 to the work appointed them. 
 
 They arrived in time to hear the Pope's 
 Bull read, authorizing the dissolution of the 
 monasteries of Romboro, Felixtow, Bromehil, 
 Bliborow, and Montjoye, and upon the site 
 of the ancient foundation of St. Peter's, at 
 Ipswich, the building a new seat of learning. 
 And for the better effecting of which great 
 and godly purpose, all the revenues belonging 
 to the said monasteries were to be forthwith 
 entirely at the disposal of the Cardinal, and 
 to be used by him in furtherance of his 
 proposed object to the glory of God, and the 
 honour of the church of Rome, &c. 
 
 Signed, 
 Clemens, Papa Septimus. 
 
 The most singular extension of authority 
 was that which ran thus : 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 277 
 
 " In pursuance of the powers vested in us, 
 we the Cardinal as the Pope's legate do hereby 
 grant unto the united brethren of Alnesh- 
 bome, full powers of absolution from their 
 monastic vows; and to be exempt from all 
 suit or service to the Priories of Woodbridge, 
 or St. Peter's Ipswich. That from the date 
 hereof, and the delivery of a schedule of 
 aU the property belonging unto the said 
 community, that society is henceforth dis- 
 solved and the members are at Hberty to seek 
 their livehhood in whatever manner they 
 may be able, and wheresoever they may be 
 pleased to go, either within or beyond the 
 Pope's dominions." 
 
 How kind and considerate it was of the 
 Pope to take away aU their property, and 
 give it to one man, and that man one 
 whom the dispossessed remembered as a 
 boy, frequently indulging in friendly con- 
 versation with them ! How very kind it 
 
278 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 was of him when he had deprived them of 
 everything, to permit them to go about 
 their business ! John of Alneshbourne, a 
 fine old man, stood with his placid face 
 beaming kindness upon his brethren, as 
 Allen — Wolsey's commissioner— read, line 
 by hne, in a language they understood too 
 well, the orders of his master. 
 
 The orbs of the fine old patriarch were 
 dim with tears, which, before the last con- 
 cluding "Vale et Vade," literally ran down 
 his venerable cheeks. 
 
 However small had been the real utility 
 of their order, there was a quiet, inobtrusive 
 seclusion in their position on the banks of 
 the Orwell, which every member of that 
 community had for years enjoyed un- 
 disturbed. The venerable fraternity had 
 spoken together upon the probability of 
 their dissolution ; yet they evidently did not 
 expect the day to be so near. When it 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 279 
 
 came, it found them very unwilling to 
 part, and gave them great surprise and 
 sorrow. 
 
 Lord De Freston and William Latimer 
 looked on with compassion, each resolved 
 to offer them present help, until they could 
 find some locality or employment suited to 
 their habits. Men long accustomed to the 
 solitude of monastic life, where everything is 
 conducted in regular order of time and 
 occupation, do not find themselves about 
 to be separated without emotion. They 
 could see each other depart this life in their 
 cells, with less tenderness and more resigna- 
 tion, than in the midst of life, or rather in 
 its decline, to see each other take leave of 
 home, for poverty, wretchedness, and un- 
 certainty. The aged Prior was the first to 
 break the silence, and did so with words 
 which proved him to be possessed of those 
 fi-aternal qualities of heart, which had felt 
 
280 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 the command " Love as brethren, be pitiful, 
 be courteous." 
 
 " Brethren," he said, " our Society is this 
 day dissolved, for I have no power to resist 
 the Papal Bull; neither can I think of 
 retaining the keys of the monastery a day 
 longer than the time allotted us, forty-eight 
 hours. Yet I cannot give up the society 
 of those whom I have now, for forty-four 
 years, presided over, without one single word 
 of discord amongst us, without deep sorrow. 
 I came myself from Britany, and, as you 
 all know, whatever property I possessed was 
 given to this monastery. We have lived 
 here together in harmony, and I had hoped 
 we should here have ended our years. I 
 mourn to think how soon we must be 
 scattered, and have our interest in each 
 other dissolved ; but ye have all heard the 
 mandate. Farewell, ye happy hours of 
 solitude and devotion ! farewell, sharers of 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 281 
 
 our common fortune, we must be parted ! 
 but whither shall we go? You, Robert 
 Wolfren, where will you journey? You, 
 Francis Wealy, where will you find 
 abode? You, Thomas Wegg, might have 
 found an asylum in Essex, but the 
 Monastery of Walton is dissolved. Alan 
 Aleto, farewell ! Michael Milner, it will 
 avail you nothing to go to Dodnesh; 
 Lionel Foster, we were brothers before we 
 came here, would we could so live together 
 imtil we die ! But where shall we all go ? 
 The world is wide enough, but it is to our 
 long habits of confinement — a desolation. 
 If we must part, let us at least spend our 
 last two days in devotion, that we may know 
 how to commit ourselves to the waves of 
 the world. Come, brethren, let us all to 
 the chapel." 
 
 It was then that Lord De Freston 
 spoke : 
 
 " I have known you all long years gone 
 
282 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 by. I forget not your kindness to the 
 outcast hermit of Holy Wells, nor to your 
 reception of his bones among you. Ye 
 shewed charity to me also, on that pitiless 
 night of my superstitious vow and vigil ; 
 but, though I see my errors in those things, 
 the kindness of your fraternity shall not 
 pass unacknowledged. It is but a short 
 journey over the water to my walls. In 
 them I have room for you all ; and neither 
 shall any want, though he may be deprived 
 of everything, as long as the Manor of 
 Freston can support you. Grieve not then, 
 my aged friends, at the present diversion of 
 your property. Ye shall enjoy the privilege 
 of each other's society, even though I am 
 not an advocate for monastic seclusion. 
 Every man should learn to live alone, that 
 he may know how best to enjoy the society 
 of his feUow-creatures. I wiU go with you 
 to your chapel, and consult further with you 
 upon your future plans." 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 283 
 
 The fraternity were as much overcome 
 by this generosity, as they had been by 
 the cruelties of their sudden ejection. They 
 repaired to their chapel, spent an hour in 
 devotion, and returned to talk over their 
 miseries and what they should do. 
 
 Alien became as punctual in taking 
 possession as he had been precise in his 
 declaration of the law, and two days after- 
 wards the monks of Alneshbourne were 
 located in the mansion of Lord De Freston. 
 Theirs was, however, a merciful lot compared 
 with the fate of hundreds who, at this time, 
 became deprived of house, home, property, 
 and comforts, which some had certainly 
 greatly abused in every way, but which others 
 had conscientiously preserved. 
 
 No men were more sensitively alive to 
 the beauties of scenery than these retired 
 Augustines. It was curious to see them 
 assembled in the fifth story of Freston 
 Tower, watching the progress of vessels 
 
284 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 bringing Caen stone, purchased with the 
 property of their own monastery, to build the 
 College of St. Peter's. 
 
 One thing, and a good one, attended the 
 change. The charity of Lord De Freston 
 did not stop with receiving them into his 
 hall, but he endeavoured, and with some 
 success, to cultivate their minds, and to 
 bring them to the indulgence of some higher 
 privileges than their cloistered seclusion had 
 allowed. 
 
 He acted the part of a good Samaritan, 
 by pouring into their wounded minds an 
 oil of such efficacy, that it led to the con- 
 version of more than the Prior ; and their 
 banishment, as they first called it, became 
 their freedom. 
 
 They remained there until, by degrees, 
 they found employment. One became a 
 teacher in Wolsey's new school; another 
 found a situation with the Abbots of Bury ; 
 a third went to Marseilles, another to Spain, 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 285 
 
 another to Rome, until they gradually 
 separated. But one, Prior John, died at 
 Freston. He perfectly recovered from the 
 infatuation of his early superstition, and 
 for some time became the enlightened com- 
 panion of the truly noble Lord, who was his 
 friend in the hour of need. 
 
 So perfectly cured was he of his monastic 
 seclusion, that he entirely dispensed with the 
 external trumpery of his order, and appeared 
 in Ipswich and its vicinity, under the title 
 of the Reformed Monk. He was a frequent 
 visitor to Latimer and his wife, in their 
 mansion at Brook Street; and here he was 
 staying when Bilney preached at St. George's 
 Chapel. Such an impression did that Re- 
 former make upon this monk's mind, that 
 Lord Wentworth, who had authority to 
 quell the growing love of spiritual liberty 
 then conspicuous in Suffolk, had marked 
 John of Alneshbourne, late of the fraternity 
 of Augustines, as a seditious heretic. 
 
286 FRESTON TOWER. 
 
 It is probable that, had he lived but a 
 few years longer, he would have been a 
 sharer in the martyr's trials. He was 
 already a sharer vdth his friends, Latimer 
 and De Freston, in the onus then attached 
 to those who professed to abhor the 
 corruptions of Rome, and desired to see 
 the Christian people of England emanci- 
 pated from the slavery of ignorance. He 
 was often heard to say, that he rejoiced 
 even in the dissolution of his priory, since 
 it had been instmmental in his own con- 
 version. 
 
 He died one day, as he sat reading the 
 prophet Isaiah, in Freston Tower. The 
 old man had not complained, though 
 the Lord of the castle had said to 
 him : 
 
 " John, you do not look well." 
 
 His reply was singular : " My soul is too 
 big for my body." 
 
 " How so ?" inquired De Freston. 
 
FRESTON TOWER. 287 
 
 " It is grown so large since I left Alnesh- 
 bourne; and as I sit reading in this lofty 
 turret, I seem to myself to grow out of 
 myself, and to expand in love to all 
 men." 
 
 The old man had scarcely said the words 
 before his head feU gently on the side 
 of his high wooden chair, and thus 
 the Monk of Alneshbourne sighed away 
 his spirit. 
 
 END OF VOL. II. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street. 
 
WORKS BY THE REV. R. COBBOLD. 
 
 AUTHOR OF " FRESTON TOWER," &C. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY MR. COLBURN. 
 
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