I do not think I shall ever get the sound of those clanging pumps out of
my ears. Daylight returned, but a thick mist hung over the sea, and
concealed all objects from sight. The ocean was now calm; we wished
indeed that there had been more wind, that we might with greater speed
finish our voyage. At length, as the sun rose higher in the sky, his
warm beams dispelled the mist, while a breeze from the south filled our
sails, and once more we glided rapidly through the water. We looked
round for the _Falcon_. No vessel answering her description was
visible, but in the south-west were two or three sail. The _Falcon_ was
not likely to have been in that position. We only hoped that, should
they draw near to us, they might prove friends. Now we set all the sail
the vessel could carry; indeed, every one on board was anxious to take
her home in safety, knowing the reward they would receive for so doing.
As the day advanced, two of the strangers drew nearer. They were tall
ships, their hulls being high out of the water, and their masts crowded
with sail, towering above them. Our captain regarded them attentively.
"They may be friends," he observed; "but it is not impossible that they
are foes, and we shall do well to keep out of their way."
The wind now favoured us, coming still more astern; and long yards were
rigged out on either side of the vessel, from which sails were hung
close down to the water. Active seamen went aloft and hoisted other
masts with yards and sails above those already set. To the extreme
yard-arm also spars were run out, from which more canvas was hung.
Thus, like some winged creature, we glided rapidly over the smooth sea.
We watched the strangers. The more our captain looked at them, the more
he was convinced that they were French. It was doubtful at first
whether, with all our exertions, we were getting ahead of our pursuers.
If taken, we should not only lose the wealth committed to our charge,
but be ourselves placed in prison; and the French had a bad name for the
way in which they treated their prisoners. The more anxious we appeared
to be to escape, the more eager our pursuers evidently became to
overtake us. They also, as they got the wind astern, set fresh sails;
and it was evident that we no longer increased our distance from them,
rather at times we feared the contrary. We ran on, and, had the ship
been free of water, we might probably have distanced our pursuers.
Still hope kept us up. At night we might have a better prospect of
escaping, but night was still far-distant. On looking ahead, we
observed in the horizon another sail. After looking at her for some
time, we were convinced that she was standing the same way that we were;
therefore, even if a friend, she would not render us any assistance.
We stood on, but every hour showed that our pursuers were gaining on us.
But we also were gaining on the vessel ahead. And now, as we looked,
another appeared. She, too, was a tall ship. Though we saw her, our
pursuers did not; and thus, as I before said, we continued to run on,
the chances of our escaping lessening every hour. At length, a flash
and a puff of smoke were seen, and the sound of a gun came rolling over
the water.
"Your shot will not reach us yet, my friends!" exclaimed Captain Davis;
"and while you are inclined to play at long bowls, we need not fear
you." Another and another followed, till the enemy ceased firing,
seeing that their shot fell short. The sound, however, had the effect
of calling the attention of the vessels ahead, and we now saw them
coming round to the wind and standing toward us. There were two tall
ships, and a third much smaller. As they approached, our pursuers
seemed to think that they had followed us far enough. All their light
sails were taken in, and they now also hauled to the wind. The two tall
ships were evidently English men-of-war, while the third was, as I had
supposed, the _Falcon_. As she passed us, Captain Rover hailed,
desiring us to continue our course, saying that he would keep us
company, while the men-of-war would pursue the enemy. We had now a
friend near us; and although the leak gave us ample employment, we at
length safely entered the Thames.
The wind continuing favourable, we ran up, and came to an anchor off the
Tower.
The fugitives at once landed, and joined their countrymen who had
already settled in England. The Government of the Queen had wisely and
liberally made all possible arrangements for their accommodation;
abodes, and places of worship where they might hold their services
according to the Protestant form, being assigned to them.
I proceeded at once on board the _Falcon_, and was amply repaid for the
risk I had run by the reception I met with from my kind patron.
Aveline's welcome also was abundantly gratifying. I was on this
occasion much struck by the way in which Captain Rover regarded the
young lady.
"Yes," I heard him say to himself; "if it were not for the difference of
age, I could believe that one whom I know is now in heaven had returned
once more to earth. Strange! most strange!"
He did not give me an opportunity of inquiring what he meant. Indeed,
it was said only as we were about to leave the ship, and to proceed to
Sir Thomas Gresham's new house in Bishopsgate Street.
Lady Anne was at this time residing at Osterley. Sir Thomas therefore
remained at Gresham House only one day, in order that Richard's strength
might be somewhat recruited. We then proceeded to Osterley House, a
beautiful residence which Sir Thomas had lately purchased, ten miles out
of London. On the approach of our cavalcade, Lady Anne hurried down to
welcome her husband and son, as well as Aveline, with open arms. I saw
her countenance fall as her eyes rested on Richard. She, at a glance,
discovered, what his father had yet scarcely done, that he was greatly
altered; for he had become daily weaker since we left Antwerp. The best
physicians from London were called in, but they could give no hope to
the fond parents; and Sir Thomas became fully aware that he must be
prepared to lose his only son. The blow was a heavy one. My patron was
a strong-minded man, accustomed to deal with characters of all sorts;
but his diplomatic powers, his financial talents, could here avail him
nothing. He almost succumbed under the heavy sorrow. Even before he
expected, Richard breathed his last. He knew, however, that the same
Hand which had given him worldly prosperity had taken away his son, and
he submitted without murmuring. He said little, but he suffered none
the less. The pleasant house had become a house of mourning. Aveline,
with all a daughter's tenderness, endeavoured to soothe the sorrow of
her kind mistress; and when I next paid a visit to Osterley, I was
thankful to see that both my patron and his lady had regained their
usual tranquil manner. Sir Thomas had entertained the thought, common
to most men who have gained rank and honours, of building up a house.
The death of his son altered all his projects. He now began to speak to
me of the duty of public men, who have wealth at their command,
undertaking works for the general benefit of their countrymen. Numerous
projects passed through his mind.
We had been one day in London, standing out in Lombard Street, where the
merchants were wont to meet to transact business, and had been exposed
to much damp and cold; the heavy rain frequently compelling us, with
other persons, to seek shelter in the shops near where we happened to be
standing, when, on our return to Gresham House, Sir Thomas exclaimed:
"Why should not a great commercial city like London possess a Bourse
like that of Antwerp? It would be a great benefit to our merchants; and
yet I fear that unless some private person undertakes it, we may never
see such a building erected. The Government, provided they obtain the
money for their wants, can scarcely be expected to care how their
merchants are lodged."
I, of course, agreed with Sir Thomas, that such a building was very
desirable; but that I scarcely expected that any one would be found
public-spirited enough to erect it at his own expense.
"Nay," he said, "but if a man has the means, and the thought is put into
his heart, it is his duty to carry it out."
To plan, with Sir Thomas, was in most cases to execute. At his
dictation, I wrote out a proposal, in which he offered to build a
Bourse, or Exchange, at his own expense, for the accommodation of the
merchants, provided a site should be found on which the edifice might be
conveniently erected. One of his principal clerks--Anthony Strynger--
was directed the next day, the 4th of January, 1565, to make the
proposal in due form before the Court of Aldermen. At first it was
proposed to establish it in Leadenhall. But Sir Thomas wished to erect
his building in the close vicinity of Lombard Street, so that the
merchants might not be moved to any distance from their original place
of meeting. His magnificent offer was at once accepted, and a
subscription was entered into by the merchants for purchasing a piece of
ground in the position he indicated. Some time, however, passed before
the stone of the foundation was laid. The ceremony took place on the
7th of June, 1567; but so diligently did the workmen perform their task,
that the whole was finished by the end of November in the same year. I
should say that during the period I have mentioned I was sent over to
Antwerp--as was also one of my patron's apprentices, John Worrall--to
assist Master Clough in purchasing materials for the Bourse. The
architect of the building was Flemish--Master Henryke by name. We
shipped large quantities of stone, as also much of the woodwork, from
the Netherlands. All the wainscoting was made at Antwerp, as was also
the glass for the windows. It was adorned with numerous statues. Most
of them were executed in England; but Sir Thomas desired to have one,
superior to the rest, of the Queen's Majesty. This was executed in
Antwerp, and received great commendation. We shipped iron also, and the
slates with which the building was roofed. I now continued to reside in
Flanders, where Sir Thomas only occasionally paid a visit, as business
of importance demanded his presence. Master Clough, having become weary
of a single life, had gone to his native country--Wales--and had there
found an amiable lady to his taste, and with her he had lately returned
to Antwerp, there to resume his office as Sir Thomas Gresham's chief
factor. My old friend A'Dale had been residing there ever since the
time I last spoke of him, and frequently I had letters from him
describing events which had taken place. From these I have noted down
the more important points of interest by which my friends in after years
may be able to understand the state of the Low Countries at that time.
Before I commence that brief narrative, however, I must say that Aveline
continued to reside with Lady Anne, and truly to act towards her the
part of a loving daughter. I had for some time entertained hopes that
the young lady was not altogether indifferent to me. That I myself
loved her I had long since discovered. I had, however, as yet not the
means of supporting her in that state to which, through the kindness of
our friends, she had been accustomed. I spoke, it may be remembered, of
a document which had been placed in my hands by her martyred mother. On
examination it was found that it related to an estate which was
rightfully the property of her father; but without his appearance to
claim it, she herself could not take possession of it. Sir Thomas had
expressed his readiness to endeavour to obtain it for her; but on
consulting the lawyers they decided that this could not be done. Her
father--Master Radford--had been outlawed in the reign of King Henry for
holding heretical opinions; and unless he should appear and obtain a
reversion of that outlawry, the estate would remain forfeited. By
petitioning the Queen's Majesty, however, there would be no difficulty
in obtaining this reversion. But Master Radford had not appeared; and
great doubts were entertained whether he was still in existence.
Oftentimes I thought of expressing my wishes to Sir Thomas, and
entreating him to place me in some position where my means would be
sufficient for the maintenance of a wife; but yet, owing everything as I
did to him, I felt that I ought to wait until he should propose to
advance me, being sure that, had I patience, this he would certainly do
at some time. I may mention also that Captain Davis was continually
employed in the service of Sir Thomas, especially in bringing over the
materials for the Bourse. Of my friend Captain Rover, however, I in
vain attempted to gain tidings. He had again left England on a long
voyage; his ship, the _Falcon_, being employed by a company of merchant
adventurers.
I have already spoken of the fearful persecutions to which the
inhabitants of the Netherlands were subjected by the officers of the
Inquisition.
At length they could no longer submit to the tyranny under which they
groaned. Some of the principal nobles of the land resolved to oppose
the bloody edicts of King Philip. Among the chief was Philip de Marnix,
Lord of Sainte Aldegonde, a Protestant nobleman and a true patriot. He
having collected a number of other leading men of a similar character,
they drew up a document called "The Compromise," by which all the
signers bound themselves to oppose the Inquisition, and to defend each
other against all the consequences of such a resistance. At the same
time they professed allegiance to the King, pretending to suppose that
he was unacquainted with the tyranny exercised over his subjects. Among
those who first signed this document were Louis of Nassau, brother of
the Prince of Orange, Henry de Brederode, the Counts of Culembourg and
De Berg. De Brederode at the commencement took the leading part in this
movement.
But all eyes were turned towards William of Nassau, Prince of Orange.
He was nominally a minister of the Regent, and Governor of the Provinces
of Holland and Zealand; but it was well-known that his heart was with
his fellow-countrymen. Some of the people, however, looked towards
Lamoral Count Egmont, who was considered the best soldier of his time;
and it was thought he would hasten to the relief of the country. Count
Horn, Admiral of the Seas, noted for his bravery, was also considered a
patriot likely to come forward in the cause of liberty.
At length, the Compromise having been signed by a large number of
noblemen and gentlemen, it was resolved to present the petition to the
Regent, then holding her court at Brussels. Master Clough, hearing what
was about to take place, sent me over there to gain information. I
arrived on the 3rd of April, 1566.
On the evening of that day notice was given that a cavalcade of noblemen
was entering the city, and I, with many thousands of the citizens,
hurried out to meet it. There were at least two hundred noblemen on
horseback, all magnificently dressed, with pistols in their holsters,
and swords by their sides. Count Brederode rode at their head--a tall,
stout man, with a soldier-like bearing and handsome features, his light
curling locks hanging down over his shoulders. Close to him rode Count
Louis of Nassau, one of the bravest and most gallant of knights. As the
cavalcade advanced, slowly making its way through the streets, it was
greeted from all sides with frequent demonstrations of applause. The
two Counts alighted at the house of the Prince of Orange, while the rest
of the company, with their numerous attendants, separated to other parts
of the city. The following day the Counts Culembourg and De Berg
entered the city with a hundred other cavaliers. The 5th of April was
the day fixed for presenting the petition. The confederates assembled
at the mansion of Count Culembourg, a short distance from the palace
where the Duchess Margaret was prepared to receive them. It was a brave
sight to see these three hundred young noblemen, arrayed in the most
magnificent costumes, walking arm in arm through the street. There was
little doubt of the risk they ran, but they had resolved to attempt the
deliverance of their country from Spanish tyranny. The daughter of
Charles the Fifth received them in the very hall where he had abdicated
his throne, many of the nobles who appeared on that occasion being
present. Among them were Orange and Egmont. Brederode, advancing,
addressed the Duchess, expressing his devotion both to her and to the
King, at the same time pointing out that the edicts and the Inquisition
would certainly produce a general rebellion if continued. He stated,
also, that there was not a man in the country, whatever his condition,
who was not liable at any moment to lose his life under the edicts; and
that the life and property of each individual were in the power of the
first man who desired to obtain his estate, and chose to denounce him to
an Inquisitor. He requested, therefore, that her Highness would
despatch an envoy to the King, and that in the meantime the Inquisitors
should be directed no longer to exercise their functions. Among those
who stood near the Duchess was the Baron Berlaymont, who, in a voice
stifled with passion, though still loud enough for the petitioners to
hear, exclaimed:
"Is it possible that your Highness can entertain fears of these beggars
(gueux)? See! there is not one of them who has not outgrown his
estate!"
The same remark was repeated in the hearing of some of the confederates.
On their meeting afterwards at a banquet prepared in the Culembourg
mansion, after the wine had freely circulated, Brederode rose. He well
knew the feelings which the remark I have mentioned had excited in the
breasts of the confederates.
"They call us _beggars_!" he shouted, in a scornful tone. "The joke is
a good one. Let us accept the name; we will contend with the abominable
Inquisition till compelled to wear the beggar's sack in reality!"
He then called one of his pages, who brought him a leathern wallet, such
as are worn by mendicants, and a large wooden bowl.
Hanging the wallet round his neck, he filled the bowl with wine, and
lifting it with both hands, he drained it at a draught.
"Long live the beggars!" he cried, as he wiped his beard and put the
bowl down.
"Long live the beggars!" resounded through the hall. The bowl went
round, and each noble, pushing his golden goblet aside, and filling the
bowl to the brim, drank the same toast: "_Vivent les Gueux_!"
The wine continued to flow fast. While the conviviality was at its
height, the Prince of Orange, with Counts Horn and Egmont, made their
appearance. Immediately they were surrounded by the now
half-intoxicated beggars, who compelled each of them to drink from the
bowl, amid shouts of "_Vivent le Roi et les Gueux_!"