and that, doubtless, all would receive the benefit of her general pardon." But Sandys, who could not help despising him, bade him "not flatter himself with that; for if the queen were ever so inclined to pardon, those who ruled her would destroy him, whoever else were spared."
Immediately after, Sir John Grates, one of his oldest and most obsequious instruments, arrested him when he had his boots half-drawn on, so that he could not help himself; and, on the following morning, the Earl of Arundel arriving with a body of troops, took possession of Northumberland, his captor, Gates, and Dr. Sandys, and sent them off to the Tower. The conduct of the duke on his arrest by Arundel was equally destitute of greatness as his proclamation of the queen: he fell on his knees before the earl, who had a great hatred of him, and abjectly begged for life. The arrest of Northumberland was the signal for the loaders of his party to hasten to the queen at Framlingham, and to endeavour to make their peace. Amongst these were the Marquis of Northampton, Lord Robert Dudley, and Bishop Ridley. They were all sent to the Tower; Ridley's great crime being the vehement sermon preached at St. Paul's Cross against the queen at the instance of Northumberland.
The camp at Framlingham broke up on the last day of July, and Mary set forward towards the metropolis, at every step receiving the homage of her now eagerly-flocking subjects. Amongst the very first to hasten to her presence was Cecil, who presented himself at Ipswich, her first resting-place. He made the most plausible excuse for his conduct in assisting to plant a rival on her throne, protesting all the time his heart was not in it; it was all necessity. The account we have of his conduct is one drawn up under his own eye, and found in the State Paper Office by Mr. Tytler, stamping him as a most consummate hypocrite. At the queen's second halting-place, Ingatestone, the seat of Sir William Petre, the Council who had been the supporters of Queen Jane were presented, and kissed her hand; Cecil was again the first to pay this homage, and endeavour by every display of assumed devotion to win her favour. But though he added to his political pliancy a most sedulous devotion to Popery, as suddenly assumed, Mary was never imposed upon by him, and steadily excluded him from the sweets of office. At Wanstead Mary was met by her sister Elizabeth, attended by a company of 1,000 horse, by knights, ladies, gentlemen, and their retainers. Elizabeth had taken no active part in the late transactions. She professed to be suffering indisposition, and so remained quiescent. If she showed no ardent sympathy as a sister, she had boldly stated to the emissaries of Northumberland, when they came to offer her ample lands and pensions, on condition that she resigned her right to the succession, that they must agree with Mary first, for during her lifetime she had no right to resign. Now, on hearing of the approach of her sister, she rode forth with this gallant company to meet her, and, on the 3rd of August, they proceeded together to London. The Venetian ambassador, who was present, describes these remarkable sisters thus: "The queen," he says, "was of small stature, slender and delicate in person, totally unlike both her father and mother. She had very lively, piercing eyes, which inspired not reverence only, but fear. Her face was well-formed, and when young she must have been good-looking. Her voice was thick and loud like a man's, and when she spoke she was heard a good way off. She was then about forty years of age; was dressed in violet velvet, and rode a small white, ambling nag, with housings fringed with gold. Elizabeth was about half her age, still in the bloom of youth, with a countenance more pleasing than handsome; a tall and portly figure, large blue eyes, and hands the elegant symmetry of which she was proud to display."
Mary dismissed her army, which had never exceeded 15,000, and which had had no occasion to draw a sword, before quitting Wanstead, except 3,000 horsemen in uniforms of green and white, red and white, and blue and white. These, too, she sent back before entering the city gate, thus showing her perfect confidence in the attachment of her capital. From that point her only guard was that of the city, which brought up the roar with bows and javelins. As the royal sisters rode through the crowded streets, they were accompanied by a continuous roar of acclamation; and on entering the court of the Tower they beheld, kneeling on the green before St. Peter's Church, the state prisoners who had been detained there during the reigns of Henry VIII. and Edward VI. These were Courtenay, the son of the Marquis of Exeter, who was executed in 1535; the old Duke of Norfolk, still under sentence of death; and the Bishops of Durham and Winchester, Tunstall and Gardiner. Gardiner pronounced a congratulation on behalf of the others; and Mary, bursting into tears at the sight, called them to her, exclaiming, "Ye are all my prisoners!" raised them one by one, kissed them, and set them at liberty. To extend the joy of her safe establishment upon the throne of her ancestors, she ordered eighteen pence to be distributed to every poor householder in the city.
Arundel had already arrived with Northumberland and the other prisoners from Cambridge, and he now was commanded to secure the Duke of Suffolk and Lady Jane Grey, and lodge them in the Tower likewise. This being done, Mary rather seemed to take pleasure in liberating and pardoning. The moment that Suffolk was conveyed to the Tower, his duchess threw herself at the feet of the queen, and implored her forgiveness of him with many lamentations, telling her that he was very ill, and would die if shut up in the Tower. Mary kindly conceded the favour, and within three days Suffolk was again at large—"a wonderful instance of mercy," may Bishop Godwin well remark. The Duke of Norfolk, and Courtenay, Earl of Devonshire, were restored to their rank and estates. Norfolk soon after sat as High Steward at the trial of Northumberland. Gertrude, the mother of Courtenay, the Marchioness of Exeter, was made lady of the bed-chamber, and admitted to such intimacy that she slept with the queen herself. The Duchess of Somerset was set free, and her family restored to its rights and position. Her son, though not made again Duke of Somerset, which was a Royal title, was acknowledged as Earl of Hertford, and her daughters, who had been subsisting on miserable annuities amongst their relations, were, three of them, appointed maids of honour. The heirs of Partridge, Vane, and Stanhope, who had been executed with the
