Two years after the suppression of this rising in the North a smouldering Yorkist insurrection in the West was stamped out by the usual method of securing the leaders, in this case Henry Courtenay, Marquis of Exeter, Sir Edward Nevill and Sir Nicholas Carew, and taking off their heads on Tower Hill. Others were seized about this time, accused of being implicated in certain traitorous correspondence, and were also brought to the Tower. Amongst them were Lord Montague and Sir Geoffrey Pole, with their mother the Countess of Salisbury, Sir Adrian Fortescue, Sir Thomas Dingley, and the Marchioness of Exeter. As regards the aged Countess of Salisbury, in a contemporary document it is said that “she maketh great moan, for that she wanteth necessary apparel, both for change and also to keep her warm.” In a history dealing with the period, by Lord Herbert of Cherbury, we have a description of the Countess’s last moments, which were tragic enough even for Tower records. On May 28, 1541, “the old lady was brought to the scaffold, set up in the Tower [on Tower Green], and was commanded to lay her head on the block; but she, as a person of great quality assured me, refused, saying, ‘I am no traitor’; neither would it serve that the executioner told her it was the fashion, so turning her grey head every way, she bid him, if he would have her head, to get it off as he could; so that he was constrained to fetch it off slovenly.” However, Froude discredits this story, and it certainly seems to be almost too fantastic to be true. Still, the fact remains that the Countess was subjected to unnecessarily harsh treatment while in the Tower, for the reason, it is said, that the King hoped she might die under the privations and so save him bringing her to the block. To Thomas Cromwell, the instigator of the terrible punishments that were meted out to those concerned in the risings, fate had already brought retribution. In 1540 he had been created Earl of Essex; a few months afterwards his fall came; on a day of July in that year he, too, came to the Tower and suffered the death, on Tower Green, that he had prescribed for others. The Tower was becoming like some mighty monster whose craving for human blood was hard to satisfy. Accuser and accused, yeoman and earl, youth and age, innocence and guilt, seemed to come alike into its greedy maw. Cromwell was taken from the House of Lords to the Tower, and the angry King would listen to no word in his favour. Whatever his crimes as tyrant-councillor to Henry, two things may be reckoned to his credit, for no man is altogether bad. The Bible was printed in English, in 1538, at his wish, and he initiated a system of keeping parish registers. At the time of Cromwell’s death the Tower was inconveniently full of “Protestant heretics,” three of whom were got rid of by the simple expedient of burning them in Smithfield, while an equal number of Catholics, who were prepared to deny the King’s supremacy in matters