Bess had often heard the story from me of the poor old man who, after surrendering his monastery, retired broken-hearted to die at Madeley. When I came to this part of the register, she broke out indignantly with-- "Why couldn't they leave _our_ abbot alone? I can't abear that old Henry VIII. He did nothing but wicked things: cut off his wives' heads and pulled down churches and nice buildings. Yet Nan and Burbidge call him a good man. I think people ought to be good in a different way." Bess was quite excited, and Constance had to take her on her knee to soothe her, and thus she sat on listening, with a scarlet face. Then I read how, after the death of King Edward, Sir Thomas and all the people made great joy over the proclaiming of the Lady Mary Queen of England. I read also how the people of Bridgnorth "fair cast up their caps and hats, lauding, thanking, and praising God Almighty, with ringing of bells and making of bonfires in the streets," and how the same joy was evinced at Shrewsbury, and at Much Wenlock. In the first year of Mary's reign on June 16th, I read that the altar of our blessed Lady within this church (of the Holy Trinity) was again built up and consecrated afresh, and evidently Sir Thomas rejoiced. A month later, the Bishop of Worcester, the Lord President of the Marches, coming with Justice Townesynde, stopped on their road to Bridgnorth at Much Wenlock, and were entertained by Richard Lawley at the Ash, the fine old timber house in Spital Street, where, at a later date, Charles I. and Prince Rupert both slept on different occasions. Then followed a description of the _fête_ held in their honour. We learnt how the house was gaily decked with cloths of Arras, with the covering of beds, bancards, carpets and cushions, and how the table was laden with pears and dishes of apples of the previous year. We wondered how they could have been kept. Also with cakes, fine wafers, claret, sack and white wine, and after much pleasant feasting and pleasant intercourse, how "Mr. Justice rose and gave the Burgesses great and gentle thanks for their cost and cheer." "I wish that I, too, mamsie, had been there, for I, too, would like to have eaten pears in summer, and have seen all their gay carpets," exclaimed Bess. A little later on in the pamphlet I found the announcement of Queen Elizabeth's being proclaimed Queen after the death of her sister. Sir Thomas made this entry evidently with rather a heavy heart. As I closed the little book, Constance took it in her hand and looked over the pages. "How many were hanged in those days!" she said sadly. "There are mentions of executions for sheep stealing, for murder, for robbery; and what a number of convicts, even children of quite tender years."