n one side over a
much-frequented wharf to the busy river. On the other it commanded the
Lieutenant's garden and green. The suite of rooms accommodated Cottrell,
and apparently also John Talbot, Talbot's son, and Peter Dean, who waited
on Ralegh. There was space for Lady Ralegh, Walter, and Lady Ralegh's
waiting maid. They occupied the room in which Edward V and his brother were
murdered. When the Plague invaded their quarters they removed for a time to
lodgings on Tower Hill, near the church of Allhallows, Barking. It is
uncertain whether there, or in the room of the slaughtered Princes, a
second son, Carew, was born to Ralegh and his wife in 1604. On the
abatement of the epidemic, Lady Ralegh, with the children, returned.

[Sidenote: _Alleviations of Confinement._]

Ralegh could entertain dependents and acquaintances. His Sherborne
steward, John Shelbury, Hariot, his physician Dr. Turner, a surgeon Dr.
John, and a clergyman named Hawthorn, were frequently with him. His
Ralegh and Gilbert kinsfolk, we may be sure, did not desert him, though
there was no especial reason to chronicle their visits. Had fuller
details been preserved of his private life, we should doubtless have
found mention of his brother Carew, who was living in apparent
prosperity at Downton. His employment, as soon as he had the
opportunity, of the naval and military services of his nephews, George
Ralegh and Gilbert, shows that the family union survived unbroken.
Admirers from the West and the Court came to listen to his conversation,
and watch his chemical experiments. The Indians he had brought from
Guiana had stayed in England. The register of Chelsea Church records the
baptism of one of them by the name of Charles, 'a boy of estimation ten
or twelve years old, brought by Sir Walter Rawlie from Guiana.' After
his imprisonment they were lodged in the Tower, or near. He could amuse
himself by catechising them on the wonders of their land. His freedom of
movement in the early and late stages of his imprisonment, when he had
'the liberty of the Tower,' roused the envy of fellow prisoners. Grey
murmured in 1611: 'Sir Walter Ralegh hath a garden and a gallery to
himself.' In his deepest tribulations he had reverential valets and
pages to comb by the hour his thick curling locks, to trim his bushy
beard, and round moustache. Crowds thronged the wharf below to mark him
pacing his terrace in the velvet and laced cap, the rich gown and trunk
hose, noted by