dants set with very fine diamonds, sapphires,
and balists, and other stones and pearls, weight
125 oz.; six great gold rings, with very fine
sapphires, emeralds, diamonds, turquoises. "At
Cawood he had of money L900; mitres, 2. Plate gilt
and parcel gilt, 770 oz; broken cross of silver
gilt, 46 oz.; two thousand five hundred sheep; two
Turkey carpets, as big and as good as any subject
had; a chest full of copes and vestments. Household
stores: wheat, 200 quarters; malt, 500 quarters;
oats, 60 quarters; wine, five or six tuns; fish and
ling, six or seven hundred; horses at Cawood, four
or five score; harness and artillery sufficient for
seven score men."--Strype's _Crammer_, vol. i. p.
440.]

{p.048} The English Protestant preachers seeing that priests
everywhere held themselves licensed _ex officio_ to speak as they
pleased from the pulpit, began themselves also, in many places, to
disobey the queen's proclamation. They were made immediately to feel
their mistake, and were brought to London to the Tower, the
Marshalsea, or the Fleet, to the cells left vacant by their opponents.
Among the rest came one who had borne no share in the late misdoings,
but had long foreseen the fate to which those doings would bring him
and many more. When Latimer was sent for, he was at Stamford. On the
4th of September six hours' notice was given him of his intended
arrest; and so obviously his escape was desired, that the pursuivant
who brought the warrant left him to obey it at his leisure; his
orders, he said, were not to wait. But Latimer had business in
England. While the fanatics who had provoked the catastrophe were
slinking across the Channel from its consequences, Latimer determined
to stay at home, and help to pay the debts which they had incurred. He
went quietly to London, appeared before the council, where his
"demeanour" was what they were pleased to term "seditious,"[106] and
was committed to the Tower. "What, my friend," he said to a warder who
was an old acquaintance there, "how do you? I am come to be your
neighbour again." Sir Thomas Palmer's rooms in the garden were
assigned for his lodging. In the winter he was left without a fire,
and, growing infirm, he se