pronounced, on their honour, that Delamere was not guilty. The
gravity and pomp of the whole proceeding made a deep impression
even on the Nuncio, accustomed as he was to the ceremonies of
Rome, ceremonies which, in solemnity and splendour, exceed all
that the rest of the world can show.42 The King, who was present,
and was unable to complain of a decision evidently just, went
into a rage with Saxton, and vowed that the wretch should first
be pilloried before Westminster Hall for perjury, and then sent
down to the West to be hanged, drawn, and quartered for
treason.43

The public joy at the acquittal of Delamere was great. The reign
of terror was over. The innocent began to breathe freely, and
false accusers to tremble. One letter written on this occasion is
scarcely to be read without tears. The widow of Russell, in her
retirement, learned the good news with mingled feelings. "I do
bless God," she wrote, "that he has caused some stop to be put to
the shedding of blood in this poor land. Yet when I should
rejoice with them that do rejoice, I seek a corner to weep in. I
find I am capable of no more gladness; but every new
circumstance, the very comparing my night of sorrow after such a
day, with theirs of joy, does, from a reflection of one kind or
another, rack my uneasy mind. Though I am far from wishing the
close of theirs like mine, yet I cannot refrain giving some time
to lament mine was not like theirs."44

And now the tide was on the turn. The death of Stafford,
witnessed with signs of tenderness and remorse by the populace to
whose rage he was sacrificed, marks the close of one
proscription. The acquittal of Delamere marks the close of