Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol. 3, No. 15, August, 1851

warm breath of prayer kept issuing from my lips; and still I was persisting, when, or ever I knew how, y

ice beganne to melt! I felt it giving way! and, looking up, coulde in joyfulle surprize, just discerne the lineaments of a figure close at t'other side; y

face turned away, but yet in the guise of listening. And, images being apt to seem magnified and distorted through vapours, methought 'twas altogether bigger than Will, yet himself, nothingthelesse; and, y

barrier between us having sunk away to breast-height, I layd mine hand on's shoulder, and he turned his head, smiling, though in silence; and … oh, heaven! 'twas not Will, but – .

What coulde I doe, even in my dreame, but fall at his feet? What coulde I doe, waking, but the same? 'Twas grey of morn; I was feverish and unrefreshed, but I wanted noe more lying-a-bed. Will had arisen and gone forthe; and I, as quicklie as I could make myself readie, sped after him.

I know not what I expected, nor what I meant to say. The moment I opened the door of his closett, I stopt short. There he stoode, in the centre of the chamber; his hand resting flat on an open book, his head raised somewhat up, his eyes fixed on something or some one, as though in speaking communion with 'em; his whole visage lightened up and glorifide with an unspeakable calm and grandeur that seemed to transfigure him before me; and, when he hearde my step, he turned about, and 'steade of histing me away, helde out his arms… We parted without neede to utter a word.

Events have followed too quick and thick for me to note 'em. Firste, father's embassade to Cambray, which I shoulde have grieved at more on our owne accounts, had it not broken off alle further collision with Will. Thoroughlie home-sick, while abroad, poor father was; then, on his return, he noe sooner sett his foot a-land, than y

King summoned him to Woodstock. 'Twas a couple o' nights after he left us, that Will and I were roused by Patteson's shouting beneath our window, "Fire, fire, quoth Jeremiah!" and the house was a-fire sure enow. Greate part of y

men's quarter, together with alle y

outhouses and barns, consumed without remedie, and alle through y

carelessness of John Holt. Howbeit, noe lives were lost, nor any one much hurt; and we thankfullie obeyed deare father's behest, soe soone as we received y

same, that we woulde get us to church, and there, upon our knees, return humble and harty thanks to Almighty God for our late deliverance from a fearfulle death. Alsoe, at fathers desire, we made up to y

poor people on our premises theire various losses, which he bade us doe, even if it left him without soe much as a spoon.

But then came an equallie unlookt for, and more appalling event: y

fall of my Lord Cardinall, whereby my father was shortlie raised to y

highest pinnacle of professional greatnesse, being made Lord Chancellor, to y

content, in some sort, of Wolsey himself, who sayd he was y

onlie man fit to be his successor.

The unheard-of splendour of his installation dazzled the vulgar; while the wisdom that marked y

admirable discharge of his daylie duties, won y

respect of alle thinking men, but surprized none who alreadie knew father. On y

day succeeding his being sworn in, Patteson marched hither and thither bearing a huge placard, inscribed, "Partnership Dissolved;" and apparelled himself in an old suit, on which he had bestowed a coating of black paint, with weepers of white paper; assigning for't that "his brother was dead." "For now," quoth he, "that they've made him Lord Chancellor, we shall ne'er see Sir Thomas more."

Now, although y

poor Cardinal was commonlie helde to shew much judgment in his decisions, owing to y

naturall soundness of his understanding, yet, being noe lawyer, abuses had multiplied during his chancellorship, more especiallie in y

way of enormous fees and gratuities. Father, not content with shunning base lucre in his proper person, will not let anie one under him, to his knowledge, touch a bribe; whereat Dancey, after his funny fashion, complains, saying:

"The fingers of my Lord Cardinall's veriest door-keepers were tipt with gold, but I, since I married your daughter, have got noe pickings; which in your case may be commendable, but in mine is nothing profitable." Father, laughing, makes answer:

"Your case is hard, son Dancey, but I can onlie say for your comfort, that, soe far as honesty and justice are concerned, if mine owne father, whom I reverence dearly, stoode before me on y

one hand, and the devil, whom I hate extremely, on y

other, yet, the cause of y

latter being just, I shoulde give the devil his due."

Giles Heron hath found this to his cost. Presuming on his near connexion with my father, he refused an equitable accommodation of a suit, which, thereon, coming into court, father's decision was given flat against him.

His decision against mother was equallie impartiall, and had something comique in it. Thus it befelle. A beggar-woman's little dog, which had beene stolen from her, was offered my mother for sale, and she bought it for a jewel of no greate value. After a week or soe, the owner finds where her dog is, and cometh to make complaynt of y

theft to father, then sitting in his hall. Sayth father, "Let's have a faire hearing in open court; thou, mistress, stand there where you be, to have impartiall justice; and thou, Dame Alice, come up hither, because thou art of y

higher degree. Now, then, call each of you the puppy, and see which he will follow." Soe Sweetheart, in spite of mother, springs off to y

old beggar-woman, who, unable to keep from laughing, and yet moved at mother's losse, sayth:

"Tell'ee what, mistress … thee shalt have 'un for a groat."

"Nay," saith mother, "I won't mind giving thee a piece of gold;" soe the bargain was satisfactorily concluded.

Father's despatch of business is such, that, one morning before the end of term, he was tolde there was no other cause nor petition to be sett before him; the which, being a case unparallelled, he desired mighte be formally recorded.

He ne'er commences businesse in his owne court without first stepping into y

court of King's Bench, and there kneeling down to receive my grandfather's blessing. Will sayth 'tis worth a world to see y

unction with which the deare old man bestows it on him.

In Rogation-week, following the Rood as usuall, round y

parish, Heron counselled him to go a horseback for y

greater seemlinesse, but he made answer that 'twoulde be unseemlie indeede for y

servant to ride after his master going a-foot.

His grace of Norfolk, coming yesterday to dine with him, finds him in the church-choir, singing, with a surplice on.

"What!" cries y

Duke, as they walk home together, "my Lord Chancellor playing the parish clerk? Sure, you dishonor the King and his office."

"Nay," says father, smiling, "your grace must not deem that the King, your master and mine, will be offended at my honoring his Master."