“For that reason I like it not,” rejoined the admiral. “But no matter. What signifies it who occupied the dungeon?”
“True; as your Lordship observes, it matters little,” said Tombs. “You will find the chamber very comfortable.”
“I would I could do better for you, my lord,” observed the constable; “but you will be as well here as anywhere else—perhaps better. See that his lordship is well cared for, and that all his reasonable requests are attended to,” he added to the gaoler.
Tombs promised strict compliance, and by Gage’s directions proceeded to divest the admiral of his armor, carrying the different pieces composing it out of the cell.
Promising to send the prisoner changes of apparel and other matters which he required, the constable took his departure; the door of the dungeon was locked outside by Tombs; and Seymour was left to his meditations.
THUS FAR THE THIRD BOOK
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Book IV
The Bowyer Tower
Chapter I
HOW SIR WILLIAM SHARINGTON WAS CONFRONTED WITH THE ADMIRAL
A prisoner in the Tower!
Sudden and sad was the change that had come over the haughty Seymour—that morn one of the most powerful nobles in the land, with hundreds ready to obey him—at a prisoner in the Tower.
A prisoner!—he a prisoner! ‘Twas hard to realize the dread idea. Yet, as he gazed around his narrow cell, the terrible conviction forced itself upon him, and a sickness like that of death came over him. Remorse suddenly roused within his breast, added to the mental anguish he endured. With a conscience burdened with many crimes, the enormity of which he could not hide from himself, he yet felt no contrition. Perceiving not that the chastisement he endured was justly inflicted for his sinfulness, he murmured against the wrath he had provoked.
No more fearful state of mind can be conceived than that which the unhappy man now experienced. The furies seemed to lash him with all their whips, and to goad him to madness. So acute indeed were his sufferings, that finding reflection intolerable, he threw himself on a pallet which was laid in a deep recess, and sought forgetfulness in sleep. But his slumbers were not undisturbed, his dreams being scarcely less terrible than his waking thoughts.
Another day passed much in the same manner as the first. Its dreary monotony was unrelieved by any event, save the appearance, at stated intervals, of the gaoler, who brought him the changes of apparel and other matters promised by Sir John Gage.
No information as to the intentions of the council could be obtained by the prisoner from Tombs. Seymour had hoped that he might be speedily examined, but in this expectation he was disappointed. His enemies could scarcely have devised greater torture than by leaving him a prey to his own bitter reflections.
The keenest pang, however, that he endured—keener than the loss of power and position—was the thought that he was debarred from seeing the Princess Elizabeth, or hearing from her. If he could but behold her once more, he should be content; if he could but hear from her, it would soothe his anguish. She must needs be aware of his fall, and perchance might find some means of communicating with him. But no letter or message came.
Sir John Gage did not even make his appearance. Had the council interdicted him from visiting the prisoner? When questioned on the subject the gaoler answered that he thought so. Not till he became a captive himself had Seymour any notion of the horrors of captivity. Solitary confinement was inexpressibly irksome to him—well-nigh intolerable.
Leaving the unhappy man to himself for a while, we will now see what proceedings had been taken by his enemies.
On the day following the admiral’s imprisonment in the Tower, the seal of his office was sent for and placed in the hands of one of the secretaries of state. All his private papers and correspondence were secured, and several officers of his court, known to be in his confidence, and supposed to be able to make disclosures against him, were arrested. His two residences, Seymour House and Chelsea Manor-House, were seized by the officers of the Crown, the former with all its rich furniture and objects of art being appropriated by the lord protector, and the latter, soon afterwards, being bestowed upon the Earl of Warwick, as the price of his assistance to Somerset.