cathedral was rung for the actual birth. The vessels in the river fired salutes. 'The Regent sent the English mariners a hundred crowns to drink,' and, 'they made themselves in readiness to show some worthy triumph upon the waters.'[1]
But the pains passed off without result; and whispers began to be heard that there was, perhaps, a mistake of a more considerable kind. Mary, however, had herself no sort of misgiving. She assured her attendants that all was well, and that she felt the motion of her child. The physicians professed to be satisfied, and the priests were kept at work at the Litanies. Up and down the streets they marched, through City and suburb, park and square; torches flared along Cheapside at midnight behind the Holy Sacrament, and five hundred poor men and women from the almshouses walked two and two, telling their beads in their withered fingers: then all the boys of all the schools were set in motion, and the ushers and the masters came after them.; clerks, canons, bishops, mayor, aldermen, officers of guilds.[2] Such marching, such chanting, such praying was never seen or heard before or since in London streets. A profane person ran one day out of the crowd, and hung about a priest's neck, where the beads should be, a string of puddings; but they whipped him and prayed on. Surely, God would hear the cry of his people.
