Back Aa

Star-Chamber: An Historical Romance, Volume 2

Close

<h2> CHAPTER XXV. The "Stone Coffin." </h2> A dreadful dungeon! the last and profoundest of the range of subterranean cells already described as built below the level of the river Fleet: a relict, in fact, of the ancient prison which had escaped the fury of Wat Tyler and his followers, when the rest of the structure was destroyed by them. Not inaptly was the dungeon styled the "Stone Coffin." Those immured within it seldom lived long. A chill like that of death smote Sir Jocelyn, as he halted before the door of this horrible place. Preceded by Grimbald the jailer, with a lamp in one hand and a bunch of large keys in the other, and closely followed by the deputy-warden and Sir Giles Mompesson, our young knight had traversed an underground corridor with cells on one side of it, and then, descending a flight of stone steps, had reached a still lower pit, in which the dismal receptacle was situated. Here he remained up to the ankles in mud and water, while Grimbald unlocked the ponderous door, and with a grin revealed the interior of the cavernous recess. Nothing more dank and noisome could be imagined than the dungeon. Dripping stone-walls, a truckle-bed with a mouldy straw-mattrass, rotting litter scattered about, a floor glistening and slippery with ooze, and a deep pool of water, like that outside, at the further end,—these constituted the materials of the frightful picture presented to the gaze. No wonder Sir Jocelyn should recoil, and refuse to enter the cell. "You don't seem to like your lodgings, worshipful Sir," said Grimbald, still grinning, as he held up the lamp; "but you will soon get used to the place, and you will not lack company—rats, I mean: they come from the Fleet in swarms. Look! a score of 'em are making off yonder—swimming to their holes. But they will come back again with some of their comrades, when you are left alone, and without a light. Unlike other vermin, the rats of the Fleet are extraordinarily sociable—ho! ho!" And, chuckling at his own jest, Grimbald turned to Sir Giles Mompesson, who, with Joachim Tunstall, was standing at the summit of the steps, as if unwilling to venture into the damp region below, and observed—"The worshipful gentleman does not like the appearance of his quarters, it seems, Sir Giles; but we cannot give him better,—and, though the cell might be somewhat more comfortable if it were drier, and perhaps more wholesome, yet it is uncommonly quiet, and double the size of any other in the Fleet. I never could understand why it should be called the 'Stone Coffin'—but so it is. Some prisoners have imagined they would get their death with cold from a single night passed within it—but that's a mistaken notion altogether." "You have proof to the contrary in Sir Ferdinando Mounchensey, father of the present prisoner," said Sir Giles, in a derisive tone. "He occupied that cell for more than six months. Did he not, good Grimbald? You had charge of him, and ought to know?" "One hundred and sixty days exactly, counting from the date of his arrival to the hour of his death, was Sir Ferdinando an inmate of the 'Stone Coffin,'" said the jailer, slowly and sententiously; "and he appeared to enjoy his health quite as well as could be expected—at all events, he did so at first. I do not think it was quite so damp in his days—but there couldn't be much difference. In any case, the worthy knight made no complaints; perhaps because he thought there would be no use in making 'em. Ah! worshipful Sir," he added to Sir Jocelyn, in a tone of affected sympathy which only made his mockery more offensive, "your father was a goodly man, of quite as noble a presence as yourself, though rather stouter and broader in the shoulders, when he first came here; but he was sadly broken down at the last—quite a skeleton. You would hardly have known him." "He lost the use of his limbs, if I remember right, Grimbald?" remarked Sir Giles, willing to prolong the scene, which appeared to afford him infinite amusement. "Entirely lost the use of 'em," replied the jailer. "But what of that? He didn't require to take exercise. A friend was permitted to visit him, and that was more grace than the Council usually allows to such offenders." "It was far more than an offender like Sir Ferdinando deserved," said Sir Giles; "and, if I had known it, he should have had no such indulgence. Star-Chamber delinquents cannot expect to be treated like ordinary prisoners. If they do, they will be undeceived when brought here—eh, Master Tunstall?" "Most true, Sir Giles, most true!" replied the deputy-warden. "Star-Chamber prisoners will get little indulgence from me, I warrant them." "Unless they bribe you well—eh, Master Joachim?" whispered Sir Giles, merrily. "Rest easy on that score, Sir Giles. I am incorruptible, unless you allow it," rejoined the other, obsequiously. "My poor father!" ejaculated Sir Jocelyn. "And thou wert condemned without a crime to a death of lingering agony within this horrible cell! The bare idea of it is madness. But Heaven, though its judgments be slow, will yet avenge thee upon thy murderers!" "Take heed what you say, prisoner," observed Grimbald, changing his manner, and speaking with great harshness. "Every word you utter against the decrees of the Star-Chamber, will be reported to the Council, and will be brought up against you; so you had best be cautious. Tour father was not murdered. He was immured in this cell in pursuance of a sentence of the High Court, and he died before his term of captivity had expired, that is all." "O, the days and nights of anguish and despair he must have endured during that long captivity!" exclaimed Sir Jocelyn, before whose gaze a vision of his dying father seemed to pass, filling him with unutterable horror. "Days and nights which will henceforth be your own," roared Sir Giles; "and you will then comprehend the nature of your father's feelings. But he escaped what you will not escape—exposure on the pillory, branding on the cheek, loss of ears, slitting of the nose, and it may be, scourging. The goodly appearance you have inherited from your sire will not be long left when the tormentor takes you in hand. Ha! ha!" "One censured by the Star-Chamber must wear a paper on his breast at the pillory. You must not forget that mark of infamy, Sir Giles," said the deputy-warden, chuckling. "No, no; I forget it not," laughed the extortioner. "How ingeniously devised are our Star-Chamber punishments, Master Joachim, and how well they meet the offences. Infamous libellers and slanderers of the State, like Sir Jocelyn, are ever punished in one way; but new crimes require new manner of punishment. You recollect the case of Traske, who practised Judaism, and forbade the use of swine's flesh, and who was sentenced to be fed upon nothing but pork during his confinement." "I recollect it perfectly," cried Tunstall, "a just judgment. The wretch abhorred the food, and would have starved himself rather than take it; but we forced the greasy morsels down his throat. Ha! ha! You are merry, Sir Giles, very merry; I have not seen you so gleesome this many a day—scarcely since the time when Clement Lanyere underwent his sentence." "Ah! the accursed traitor!" exclaimed Sir Giles, with an explosion of rage. "Would he had to go through it again! If I catch him, he shall—and I am sure to lay hands upon him soon. But to our present prisoner. You will treat him in all respects as his father was treated, Master Joachim—but no one must come nigh him." "No one shall approach him save with an order from the Council, Sir Giles," replied the other. "Not even then," said the extortioner decisively. "My orders alone must be attended to!" "Hum!" ejaculated the deputy-warden, somewhat perplexed. "Well, I will follow out your instructions as strictly as I can, Sir Giles. I suppose you have nothing more to say to the prisoner, and Grimbald may as well lock him up." And, receiving a nod of assent from the other, he called to the jailer to finish his task. But Sir Jocelyn resolutely refused to enter the cell, and demanded a room in one of the upper wards. "You shall have no other chamber than this," said Sir Giles, in a peremptory tone. "I did not address myself to you, Sir, but to the deputy-warden," rejoined Sir Jocelyn. "Master Joachim Tunstall, you well know I am not sentenced by the Star-Chamber, or any other court, to confinement within this cell. I will not enter it; and I order you, at your peril, to provide me with a better chamber. This is wholly unfit for occupation." "Do not argue the point, Grimbald, but force him into the cell," roared the extortioner. "Fair and softly, Sir Giles, fair and softly," replied the jailer. "Now, prisoner, you hear what is said—are you prepared to obey?" And he was about to lay hands rudely upon Sir Jocelyn, when the latter, pushing him aside, ran nimbly up the steps, and seizing Sir Giles by the throat, dragged him downward. Notwithstanding the resistance of the extortioner, whose efforts at liberation were seconded by Grimbald, our young knight succeeded in forcing his enemy into the dungeon, and hurled him to the further end of it. During the struggle, Sir Jocelyn had managed to possess himself of the other's sword, and he now pointed it at his breast. "You have constituted yourself my jailer," he cried, "and by the soul of him who perished in this loathsome cell, by your instrumentality, I will send you instantly to account for your crimes on High, unless you promise to assign me a different chamber!" "I promise it," replied Sir Giles. "You shall have the best in the Fleet. Let me go forth, and you shall choose one for yourself." "I will not trust you, false villain," cried Sir Jocelyn. "Give orders to the deputy-warden, and if he pledges his word they shall be obeyed, I will take it. Otherwise you die." "Bid Master Tunstall come to me, Grimbald," gasped the extortioner. "I am here, Sir Giles, I am here," replied the deputy-warden, cautiously entering the cell. "What would you have me do?" "Free me from this restraint," cried Sir Giles, struggling to regain his feet. Sir Jocelyn shortened his sword in order to give him a mortal thrust, but his purpose was prevented by Grimbald. With his heavy bunch of keys the jailer struck the young knight upon the head, and stretched him insensible upon the ground. <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2