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diff --git a/old/65787-0.txt b/old/65787-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index b31eeb8..0000000 --- a/old/65787-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12265 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bess of Hardwick and her Circle, by Maud -Stepney Rawson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Bess of Hardwick and her Circle - -Author: Maud Stepney Rawson - -Release Date: July 7, 2021 [eBook #65787] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Richard Tonsing, MWS, and the Online Distributed Proofreading - Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from - images generously made available by The Internet - Archive/Canadian Libraries) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BESS OF HARDWICK AND HER -CIRCLE *** - - - - - BESS OF HARDWICK - AND HER CIRCLE - - - - - BY THE SAME AUTHOR - - - A LADY OF THE REGENCY - JOURNEYMAN LOVE - THE APPRENTICE - TALES OF RYE TOWN - THE LABOURER’S COMEDY - THE ENCHANTED GARDEN - THE EASY-GO-LUCKIES - THE STAIRWAY OF HONOUR - HAPPINESS - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene Ltd. Derby, after the painting at Hardwick - Hall._ - - _Elizabeth, Countess of Shrewsbury._ -] - - - - - BESS OF HARDWICK - AND HER CIRCLE - - - BY - MAUD STEPNEY RAWSON - - - WITH THIRTY-EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS - INCLUDING A PHOTOGRAVURE FRONTISPIECE - - - London: HUTCHINSON & CO. - Paternoster Row ❧ 1910 - - - - - TO MY HUSBAND - - -To you belongs, for many a reason, this, my first essay in history, -which I have carried to its end with many misgivings, but with much -delight in the matter itself. - -The orthodox may be affronted at two brief incursions into fiction which -they will find in it. Let them skip these judiciously, magisterially. -For my own part, I needed consolation at times for certain hard and -bitter facts of the history. Therefore, since the way was sometimes -long, and the wind, in my imagination, very cold—as it whistled in and -out of the ruins of those manors and castles where the Scots Queen and -her married gaolers dwelt, or as it drove the snow across the splendid -grey façade of Hardwick (to say nothing of the draughts of the sombre, -public research libraries)—I first drew my Countess down from her -picture-frame to marshal her household, and then lured her child and her -child’s lover after her to gladden your road and mine. - -And so I give you—besides all the thoughts which have gone to every -scrap of writing I have ever done—these last, which curl and stiffen and -again uncoil themselves about this hungry woman of Elizabethan days. -Into her life and much-abused toil, we, who have neither gold nor heirs -for whom to store it, can look together in love and pity. - -Thus even while we rejoice over our diminutive home, may we never forget -to give thanks to the spirit of those who built the great houses which -nourish the little ones, and who, in place of the “scarlet blossom of -pain” that grows at great door and little, shall give to us in the end -the perfect English rose. - - M. S. R. - - LITTLE ORCHARD, - STREATLEY, - BERKS. - - - - - AUTHOR’S NOTE - - -All complete letters herein quoted have been put into modern spelling. -These, with the exception of one or two fragments and when the source is -not otherwise indicated, have been selected from the transcripts in -Lodge’s _Illustrations of British History_, from the originals amongst -the Talbot, Howard, and Cecil MSS. - -The Author gratefully acknowledges the special permission of his Grace -the Duke of Devonshire to include in this work reproductions of many of -the fine pictures at Hardwick Hall, as well as a number of views of that -noble building. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - I. THE RED-HAIRED GIRL 1 - - II. THE MISTRESS BUILDER 11 - - III. “A GREAT GENTLEMAN” 34 - - IV. HUBBUB 52 - - V. MAKE-BELIEVE 62 - - VI. PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT 75 - - VII. FAMILY LETTERS 99 - - VIII. A CERTAIN JOURNEY 119 - - IX. LOVE AND THE WOODMAN 133 - - X. AFTERMATH 145 - - XI. VARIOUS OCCURRENCES 161 - - XII. MY LORD LEICESTER’S CURE 175 - - XIII. THE DIVIDED WAY 193 - - XIV. “BRUITS” 211 - - XV. RUTH AND JOYUSITIE 223 - - XVI. VOLTE FACE 236 - - XVII. THE COIL THICKENS 251 - - XVIII. “FACE TO FACE” 266 - - XIX. HAMMER AND TONGS 279 - - XX. FADING GLORIES 308 - - XXI. HEIR AND DOWAGER 324 - - XXII. ARABELLA DANCES INTO COURT 337 - - XXIII. MY LADY’S MANSIONS 349 - - INDEX 365 - - - - - LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - ELIZABETH COUNTESS OF SHREWSBURY (_Photogravure_) _Frontispiece_ - - _To face page_ - - HARDWICK OLD HALL 2 - - SIR WILLIAM CAVENDISH 4 - - HARDWICK OLD HALL: THE GIANTS’ CHAMBER 6 - - SIR WILLIAM ST. LOE 16 - - GEORGE TALBOT, EARL OF SHREWSBURY 38 - - ELIZABETH COUNTESS OF SHREWSBURY 38 - - MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS 64 - - MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS’ APARTMENTS AND DUNGEONS AT TUTBURY, - FROM THE NORTH-WEST 66 - - WINGFIELD 70 - - MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS’ BOWER, CHATSWORTH 72 - - WILLIAM CECIL, LORD BURGHLEY 80 - - THOMAS HOWARD, DUKE OF NORFOLK 86 - - THE MANOR HOUSE, SHEFFIELD 90 - - GILBERT TALBOT, SEVENTH EARL OF SHREWSBURY 100 - - LADY MARGARET DOUGLAS, COUNTESS OF LENNOX 120 - - ROBERT DUDLEY, EARL OF LEICESTER 178 - - QUEEN ELIZABETH 182 - - ELIZABETH COUNTESS OF SHREWSBURY 198 - - GEORGE TALBOT, SIXTH EARL OF SHREWSBURY 202 - - MARY CAVENDISH, COUNTESS OF SHREWSBURY 252 - - HARDWICK HALL, SHOWING ENTRANCE GATEWAY 258 - - STATUE OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS 310 - - QUEEN ELIZABETH (_by Zucchero_) 316 - - ARABELLA STUART AS A CHILD 330 - - ARABELLA STUART 332 - - HARDWICK HALL: THE PICTURE GALLERY FROM THE NORTH 336 - - WELBECK ABBEY 340 - - HARDWICK HALL: THE DINING-ROOM 342 - - JAMES THE FIFTH 344 - - TOMB OF ELIZABETH COUNTESS OF SHREWSBURY 346 - - THE ENTRANCE HALL, HARDWICK HALL 348 - - BOLSOVER CASTLE 352 - - HARDWICK HALL: THE PICTURE GALLERY 354 - - MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS (_by P. Oudry_) 356 - - MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS’ BED, HARDWICK HALL 358 - - HARDWICK HALL: THE PRESENCE-CHAMBER 360 - - HARDWICK HALL FROM THE WEST GARDEN 362 - - - - - BESS OF HARDWICK - - AND HER CIRCLE - - - - - CHAPTER I - THE RED-HAIRED GIRL - - -Among the hills and dales of Derbyshire, that great county of august -estates, there came into the world in the year 1520 a certain baby girl. -Her father, John Hardwick of Hardwick House, and her mother Elizabeth, -daughter of Thomas Leake of Hasland, in the same county, christened the -child Elizabeth, naturally enough after her mother. Like the great Queen -of England to whom she was senior, and with whom in after years she had -so much traffic of a highly dramatic kind, this Elizabeth has come down -to posterity under the shorter name of Bess. - -Derbyshire, always a great county, was specially important in her day. -Far from London and Court it seemed like a little England within -England. Its great families wove its life step by step, its varied -landscape, its heights and dales rendered it an important strategical -centre in the event of rebellion, and the roughness and slough of -pack-road and cart-road made even local expeditions affairs of moment. -The little red-haired baby girl inherited from her native soil, from her -race, and from the neighbours about her all that sense of county -importance, that desire to found, establish and endow a great family -with great estates which her life developed to so remarkable a degree. -That consciousness of county importance was inevitable in those days -when families gave their names not only to their mansions, but to the -hamlets or village which clustered round them. Bess of Hardwick was -brought up amongst them all—the Hardwicks of Hardwick, the Barleys of -Barley (or Barlow), the Pinchbecks of Pinchbeck, the Blackwalls of -Blackwall, the Leakes, and the Leches. Not all of them were so very -opulent. The Hardwicks, though not rich, were of honourable standing as -county gentry, and the Barleys and Leakes were of the same social rank. -John Hardwick could not afford to give his daughters large dowries, and -consequently when my Lady Zouche, her aunt, took Bess into her household -in London the parents were probably glad enough to embrace such a social -chance for her. Up to this time she led naturally the life of the -ordinary young gentlewoman of tender years, said her prayers, learnt to -sew and embroider, and had seen something of the ordering of a household -and the disposal of country produce, while she heard and treasured up -such scraps of news as filtered through to her family and neighbours by -letters and travellers who came to the houses about her, or such rumours -as were bruited in the county town. She was but twelve years old when -she made her entry at once into my Lady Zouche’s house and into history. -We are told that she had reddish hair and small eyes, but no picture of -her remains to give any idea of her appearance at this moment when she -left her childhood behind her. Physique she must always have had, and -with it tenacity and tact in furthering her own prospects. She was of -the type in which the art of “getting on” is innate. London and my Lady -Zouche’s excellent social position gave her her first chance. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - HARDWICK OLD HALL - - Page 2 -] - -There is almost a touch of Becky Sharp in the way that this young girl, -dowerless save for the forty marks of _dot_ allotted by John Hardwick to -each of his daughters, settled down in that household. There came to -London one of her Derbyshire neighbours—a youth of the Barley or Barlow -family, named Robert. Under Lady Zouche’s roof he fell sick and the -little niece helped to tend him. Whether he also fell in love, whether -Mistress Hardwick the mother was minded to “settle” one at least of her -girls early, or whether Lady Zouche was of a strong match-making -tendency does not appear. But a marriage between the niece and the guest -was arranged and quickly carried through. A strange pitiful affair it -must have been—that London wedding between the red-haired child and the -sickly young man—a ceremony trailing after it a sorry hope of happiness -in the midst of physicking and nostrums, weakness and watching, until -the death of the bridegroom before the bride had reached her fourteenth -year. His death left no apparent gap in my Lady Zouche’s household and -no mark upon history. But it bestowed on the child-wife the dignity of -widowhood, and such importance, plus her forty marks, as attached to any -property that Robert Barlow left her. The Barlows were not wealthy. Some -of them in after years were in sore straits for a living. The State -Papers show the existence of piteous letters from a certain Jane Barlow -who writes in January, 1583, to her father, Alexander Barlow, “from a -foreign land.” She is in extreme want, forced to borrow money to carry -on her “business,” and assures him that the meanest servant he has -“liveth in far better condition than she.” There is nothing to show that -the Barlows applied to their relation “Bess” in after years for help. -Such property as there was passed to her, and she travelled out of their -ken into richer circles. - -In 1547, at the age of twenty-seven, a woman in the height of her powers -and the perfection of her womanhood, with considerable knowledge of the -world and a tremendous store of physical and mental vitality, she -secured a second husband and a man of considerable means—Sir William -Cavendish. He was the second son of Thomas Cavendish, and his family, -like that of Bess, took its name from its hamlet or manor. Says the -pompous Bishop Kennet of those days: “The Cavendishes, like other great -Families of greatest Antiquity derived a Name from their Place of -Habitation. A younger branch of the Germons, famous in Norfolk and -Essex, settled at Cavendish in Suffolk, and from that Seat and Estate -were soon distinguished by that Sirname.” Thomas Cavendish, like the -father of Bess, was “a well-to-do but undistinguished Squire,” but his -sons made names for themselves. - -[Illustration: - - _From a photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, after the painting at - Hardwick Hall_ - _By permission of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire_ - - SIR WILLIAM CAVENDISH - - Page 4 -] - -In 1539 his son William was appointed one of the auditors of the Court -of Augmentation. This Court, of which one at least of the members had -been employed as a commissioner for the surrender of religious houses, -was ostensibly founded to ensure the increase of the royal exchequer to -such a point as would enable the sovereign duly to establish and -strengthen the defences of the realm. Within a year Mr. Cavendish had so -well played his cards and acquitted himself that he received from Henry -VIII a grant of Church property—the lordships and manors of Northawe, -Cuffley, and Childewicke in Hertfordshire. In 1548, the year after his -marriage, he was further rewarded not only by the post of “Treasurer of -the Chamber to the King” which, we are assured, was “a place of great -trust and honour,” but the knighthood which brought his third wife the -title that raised her above the majority of her fellow-gentlewomen. He -did not bring her a virgin heart, for he had been twice married and -twice a widower without male heir. But he conferred on her important -social position, a great deal of land—additional prizes fell to his -share in the way of lesser glebe properties, abbeys, and rectories, -because his appointment in the royal exchequer kept him _au courant_ of -the places which were being given or going cheap in the market—and she -in her turn brought him the sons he doubtless so greatly desired. - -Never surely did a couple settle down so whole-heartedly or so -harmoniously to the founding of a family, to the increase and -consolidation of their patrimony. As to the first—their offspring—Sir -William made a proud and careful list in writing, being, as Collins[1] -says, “A learned and exact Person.” He had in all sixteen children, -eight of whom were borne to him by “this beautiful and discreet Lady,” -as Collins describes Bess Cavendish. - -The fact that his second wife’s name was also Elizabeth has at times -given rise to misstatements with regard to the place and date of his -third marriage, but he was careful to record this: “I was married to -Elizabeth Hardwick, my third wife, in Leicestershire, at Brodgate, my -Lord Marquess’s[2] House, the 20th of August, in the first yeare of King -Ed. the 6, at 2 of the Clock after midnight.” - -Of the eight children of this marriage six survived. The others were -Temperance, “my 10 childe and the second by the same woman,” and Lucrece -the youngest. The surviving daughters were Frances Cavendish, the -eldest, married to Sir Henry Pierrepoint, of Holme Pierrepoint, Notts; -Elizabeth Cavendish, who espoused Charles Stuart, Earl of Lennox; and -Mary, the youngest girl, who became the wife of Gilbert Talbot. Of the -three sons, the eldest, Henry Cavendish, who settled later at Tutbury -Castle, married Lady Grace Talbot; William Cavendish, who wedded -successively Anne, daughter of Henry Kighley, of Kighley, and Elizabeth, -daughter of Sir Edward Boughton, and to whom his adoring mother left -Chatsworth; and Charles. Frances Cavendish by her marriage became the -ancestress of the Earls and Dukes of Kingston, and (through a female -heiress) of the Earls Manvers, inheritors of the Pierrepoint property. -Her brother Henry, though he died young, was the ancestor of the Barons -Waterpark; while William, duly knighted in time, was the first Earl of -Devonshire and progenitor of that great ducal house. Mary, though her -husband was but a younger son of the Talbot race, became eventually -Countess of Shrewsbury on his unexpected accession to the title; while -Charles, besides a knighthood, secured as bride one of the twin -heiresses of the Barony of Ogle, by which means the possessions of -Welbeck Abbey and other great estates were insured to the Cavendishes. -All these matters, however, belong to the future. The present was -all-important to the welfare of Sir William and his lady. A fast growing -family must be provided for, and scattered estates meant waste of cost -and labour. The clear, keen eyes of the newly-wedded Bess looked far -into the future. She did not care for the notion of separation from her -own lands and the unwieldy business of dealing with her husband’s -estates in different parts of the South of England. At the time of their -marriage he had sold the aforesaid manors in Hertfordshire, -Lincolnshire, Cardigan, and Cornwall, in favour of others in Derbyshire, -Nottingham, and Stafford. The county instinct of his wife asserted -itself. Her heart was in Derbyshire where her own dowry was -concentrated. She desired the transfer of her bridegroom’s interests and -property thither. Her resolution and her vitality naturally carried the -day, and Sir William sold all the rest of his southern estates and -settled with her in a manor which had originally been built by her old -county friends the Leeches (or Leches) of Leech—Chatsworth. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - HARDWICK OLD HALL: THE GIANTS CHAMBER - - (So called from the two colossal figures, dubbed Gog and Magog, in - raised plaster-work over the fireplace) - - Page 6 -] - -Gradually her great hobby asserted itself—the desire to build—and this -constructive energy, as her story will show, went hand in hand with her -master passion, the love of power and possession, to the end of her -days. The mansion of the Leeches did not please her. It must be rebuilt -for the glory of the Cavendishes. Her knight yielded to the wish. They -set about the work quickly, living meanwhile, one supposes, in the -original mansion. Hardwick Hall, it will be remembered, was not yet -hers. John Hardwick, her father, had passed away in the nineteenth year -of Henry VIII. That reign was at an end, and the reign of Edward VI -drawing to its close. Hardwick House eventually became the portion of -the red-haired daughter, some say through the will of her brother, who -apparently died without heir. But for the moment the Cavendishes needed -a fine house for domesticity on a large scale and old Chatsworth did not -suffice them. Elizabeth Cavendish had plenty to do in founding her -family. These were great and busy times for the great lady. Shoulder to -shoulder husband and wife worked at their building, at their estate, at -the management of their tenants, their parks and palings, their farms -and holdings. The red-haired girl was in her element as matron and -comptroller and lady bountiful. Fortune smiled on her enterprise, and -when the crown of Edward VI descended to Mary of England, Sir William -Cavendish still held securely his valuable post in the Exchequer. - -It is a fine English picture as one looks upon it, this married life of -the Cavendishes—knight and lady amongst their babies, enlarging their -county circle, increasing their county honours, holding intercourse with -Court and capital, with market and county town. - -Here is a letter on domestic matters from Sir William to his lady -showing his trust in her management of their joint affairs:— - - - “To Bess Cavendish, - “My Wife. - -“Good Bess, having forgotten to write in my letters that you should pay -Otewelle Alayne eight pounds for certain oats that we have bought of him -over and above twelve that I have paid to him in hand, I heartily pray -you for that he is desirous to receive the rest at London to pay him -upon the sight hereof. You know my store and therefore I have appointed -him to have it at your hands. And thus fare you well. From Chatsworth -the XIIIth of April. - - W. C.” - - -And here is a characteristic letter from his good lady during her -absence from home in 1552 to her man of affairs, in which she soundly -takes him to task for discourtesy to her “sister Jane,” orders beer to -be brewed against her own return, and issues commands for building and -repairs:— - - -“Francis, I have spoken with your master for the deals or boards that -you wrote to me of; and he is content that you shall take some for your -necessity by the appointment of Neusante, so that you take such as will -do him no service about his building at Chatsworth. I pray you look well -to all things at Chatsworth till my aunt’s coming home, which I hope -shall be shortly, and in the meantime cause Broushawe to look to the -smithy and all other things at Penteridge. Let the weaver make beer for -me forthwith, for my own drinking and your master’s; and see that I have -good store of it, for if I lack either good beer or good charcoal or -wood I will blame nobody so much as I will do you. Cause the floor in my -bedchamber to be made even, either with plaster, clay, or lime: and all -the windows where the glass is broken to be mended: and all the chambers -to be made as close and warm as you can. I hear that my sister Jane -cannot have things that is needful for her to have amongst you: If it be -true, you lack a great of honesty as well as discretion to deny her -anything that she hath a mind to, being in my house; and then assure -yourself I cannot like it to have my sister so used. Like as I would not -have any superfluity or waste of anything, so likewise would I have her -to have that which is needful and necessary. At my coming home I shall -know more, and then I will think as I shall have cause. I would have you -give to my midwife from me, and from my boy Willie and to my nurse from -me and my boy, as hereafter followeth: first to the midwife from me ten -shillings, and from Willie five shillings: to the nurse from me five -shillings, and from my boy three shillings and four pence: so that in -the whole you must give to them twenty-three shillings and four pence. -Make my sister privy to it, and then pay it to them forthwith. If you -have no other money, take so much of the rent at Penteridge. Tell my -sister Jane that I will give my daughter something at my coming home: -and praying you not to fail to see all things done accordingly, I bid -you farewell. From London the 14th of November. - - “Your Mistress, - “ELIZABETH CAVENDISH. - -“Tell James Crompe that I have received the five pounds and nine -shillings that he sent me by Hugh Alsope. - - “to my servant Francis Whitfield, - give this at Chatsworth.” - - - - - CHAPTER II - THE MISTRESS BUILDER - - -Upon this scene of household importance and intimate family life, -making, if not for happiness in the fullest sense of the word, at any -rate for prosperity and success, fell for a second time upon the married -life of Bess Hardwick the great shadow. Sir William Cavendish, so -accomplished in business, so doughty a husband, so excellent a host, -died in 1557. - -His wife made a note of the event in her own hand:— - - -“Memorandum, that Sir William Cavendish, Knight, my most dear and well -beloved husband, departed this present life on Monday, being the 25th -day of October, betwixt the hours of 8 and 9 of the same day at Night, -in the year of our Lord God 1557, the dominical Letter then C. On whose -soul I most humbly beseech the Lord to have mercy, and to rid me and his -poor children out of our great misery. - - “ELIZABETH CAVENDISH.” - - -This was probably the greatest grief of her life, and all her after -energies were spent in furthering the welfare of her Cavendish children. - -Now followed a period of widowhood, during which no substantial or -interesting episodes bring the lady’s name to the front. But she did not -lose her hold over society and the Court. Nor did she lay aside her -wise, worldly habits. She was still the grand dame—dispenser of -charities, recipient of Court letters, mistress of masons and woodmen -and grooms, resting securely upon her hoard like the dragon in German -legend, assuring herself and the world, “I lie and possess, and would -slumber.” But hers was not the nature to be quiescent very long. And she -had incentive enough to action. She had six children to further in the -world. Daughters must be married, sons must be brought into the charmed -circle of the Queen, to run the gauntlet of suspicions, favours, and -coldnesses from her and bear the jealousy and competition of others till -the right opportunity came for advancement. Moreover, there was -Chatsworth to complete—alone. At thirty-seven, gifted with excellent -good looks, an indomitable will, and a constitution robust and healthy, -it was not the moment for such a woman to permit either her schemes or -her zest in life to collapse. So she keeps to her road, moving no doubt -daily between the old Chatsworth and the new, the beloved fabric which -for her was at once the mausoleum of her greatest happiness, the -eloquent witness of her aspirations for her children, and a lasting -memorial of her Cavendish ambitions. So one beholds her working onward, -building for the future, impatient no doubt of the present. Fully -accustomed now to take command of her life and affairs, she controls -every item of the building of her new house. One can picture her easily -enough walking or driving to and fro, while she issues commands for the -felling of wood, signs orders for the selling of coals and stone, for -the transplantation of trees, the manufacture of hangings, the transport -of Derbyshire marbles, the employment of artificers in mosaic, and -plaster and wood. She had built six Cavendishes, bone of her bone, flesh -of her flesh, and now she was building a great and perfect house for -them and theirs. In it she would reign, so long as she lived, supreme. -One pictures her again and again—a vigorous, vital woman, in proper and -dignified weeds, with shrewd and genial face in which the lines of -intrigue and sorrow had not yet deepened, moving amongst her army of -workmen, fully conscious of the country life about her, though possibly -not playing for a while a very active part in it. But the old zest of -living, the old desire of the world, the joys of which she had tasted -only at brief intervals during the babyhood of her six children, were -ineradicable. She had acres and gold, she needed a helpmeet more than -many women. No country gentleman of sufficient importance presented -himself for whom she would think it worth while to give up the pretty -delight of being addressed as “my lady.” In this dilemma Fate brought -her face to face with Sir William St. Lo. - -He was of excellent birth, and, like her second husband, a widower. His -family was, of course, originally Norman. State papers show that a -Margaret de St. Low or Laudo parted with certain rights in Cornish -property in the reign of Henry III. By the seventeenth century the -family seems to have concentrated in Gloucestershire, where it held the -manor of Tormarton, twenty-two miles south of the county town. “Livery” -of this manor, we read, was granted to William St. Loe by Elizabeth. - -William and his brother John had fought bravely in Ireland against -Desmond. In 1536 the former—the family name is spelt variously as -Seyntlow, Seyntloe, and Santclo—is mentioned in despatches. There is a -vivid glimpse in various letters of an attack on the castle of “Carreke -Ogunell.”[3] Says Lord Leonard Grey, writing to Henry VIII in England, -“It was taken by assault by William Seyntloe and his men before scaling -ladders could arrive.” But the writer is not quite sure if the success -was due to “hope of fame or lack of victuals, for a halfpenny loaf was -worth 12d., but there was none to be sold.” The castle has marble walls -thirteen feet thick. It is the strongest Lord Leonard has ever seen. An -Englishman could take it at a rush, in spite of the fact that besides -being set in a fine moat, “in an island of fresh water,” the place was -guarded with watch towers of hewn marble. But Lord Leonard does not -think that any Irishman could have built it! - -Later there is mutiny and rumour of sore disruption in the English-Irish -army. Young Captain St. Loe’s men forgather with discontented spirits, -and the whole of his stalwart retinue of three hundred, “men of high -courage and activity,” revolts so badly that, though he and his captains -are cleared of all blame, it is necessary to “bend the ordnance” on the -mutineers and proceed against them in “battle array.” Little wonder that -the men, henchmen and yeomen, doubtless, of Gloucestershire, hated the -campaign. Even Lord Leonard himself shared the destitution of the -privates and was pinched for the lack of a loaf. “And so,” he goes on -after his comment on the price of bread, “I among others lay in my -harness, without any bed, almost famished with hunger, wet, and cold.” - -Fortune and personality carried William St. Loe onward. In the forties -of the sixteenth century he appears as seneschal of Waterford, and -complains bitterly of the way in which he is hampered in office by the -Lord Chancellor in Ireland. The contention of his official companions, -however, as given in a letter to the Court, describes him as “a good -warrior, but unfit to administer justice.” Military disorder is stated -to be the result, and if the complainants only “had the disposal of the -farms Seyntlow now has” things would be very different. It is suggested -that he is turning into a regular freebooter.... And so on. - -However this may be, we find the gentleman in 1557 not only safely -established in England, but holding important Court posts with -high-sounding titles. He is at once Grand Butler of England and captain -of the Queen’s Guard. In these capacities Bess Hardwick, as Lady -Cavendish, must have already met him. Had she not married him and had he -lived long enough, she might have been committed to his tender mercies -and guardianship in a very different sense. But at present her genius -for intrigue only threw her into the apparently pleasant fetters of -marriage. This “Grand Botelier,” this dashing swashbuckler who now rode -at the head of the royal guards, and was in constant touch with the -governor of the Tower, with the interior of which building she made -acquaintance later, took her as his second wife. The whole thing seems -to have been most amicable, affectionate, and excellent—amicable and -affectionate on his part, excellent from her point of view. It did not -interfere with his important duties; it did not necessarily nail her to -the Court. Above all, it did not interfere with her building. Indeed, it -gave her the more heart to it because the good captain would now assume -by her side the duties of Derbyshire host. Moreover, he could help her -materially in her building. She did not need his advice about -architecture of course. But she saw that she could draw under her hand -the dues of his manor in Gloucestershire for the glory of the -Cavendishes and the surer foundation of her own comfort. The fine -dashing soldier had children. Yet this was no serious block in her way. -She might arrange it all, while leaving them not destitute but dependent -on her wise financial dispositions. The marriage was duly solemnised and -gave satisfaction. The Queen approved of my Lady St. Loe, and the more -so because the latter did not wish to monopolise her bridegroom. There -was enough at the Derbyshire estate to amuse her, and Sir William’s -letters to her kept her advised of things “about” the Queen’s Majesty. -Scottish affairs were brewing hotly. Elizabeth was but newly a queen. -There were processions and enactments, enquiries, and excursions at -Court. Bess Hardwick held the post of Lady of the Bedchamber, and -naturally took the keenest interest in all that went on. Except through -letters, reliable news did not filter at all to the wilds of the Peak -and its lovely dales. But Sir William loved her and appreciated her -deeply. In his affectionate letters he identifies her quaintly and -sweetly with her house. “My honest, sweet Chatsworth” is one of the -expressions. Elsewhere she is “My own, more dearer to me than I am to -myself,” and in another letter he has seized her enthusiasm for -management and construction, for he calls her “My own good servant and -chief overseer.” - -Occasionally Bess wanted her “grand botelier” to herself, and it must -have been hard for Sir William to tear himself away from the rich -security and ease of the house. One of his letters from Court shows that -he is in trouble with his Queen for delayed return. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, from the picture at Hardwick - Hall_ - _By permission of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire_ - - SIR WILLIAM ST. LOE -] - - -“She hath found great fault with my long absence, saying she would talk -with me farther and that she would well chide me. Whereunto I answered, -that when her highness understood the truth and the cause she would not -be offended. Whereunto she says, ‘Very well, very well’; howbeit, hand -of hers I did not kisse.” - - -A portrait which hangs in the great gallery at Hardwick shows the writer -of the following letters (quoted in Hunter’s _Hallamshire_) in his habit -as he lived—a kindly fellow, but at this period not a man of power. - -_Sir William Saint-Loe to Lady Saint-Loe._ - - -“My own, more dearer to me than I am to myself, thou shalt understand -that it is no small fear nor grief unto me of thy well doing that I -should presently see what I do, not only for that my continual nightly -dreams beside my absence hath troubled me, but also chiefly for that -Hugh Alsope cannot satisfy me in what estate thou nor thine is, whom I -regard more than I do William Seyntlo. Therefore I pray thee, as thou -dost love me, let me shortly hear from thee, for the quieting of my -unquieted mind, how thine own sweet self with all thine doeth; trusting -shortly to be amongst you. All thy friends here saluteth thee. Harry -Skipwith desired me to make thee and no other privy that he is sure of -mistress Nell, with whom he is by this time. He hath sent ten thousand -thanks unto thyself for the same: she hath opened all things unto him. -To-morrow Sir Richard Sackville and I ride to London together; on -Saturday next we return hither again. The queen yesterday, her own self -riding upon the way, craved my horse; unto whom I gave him, receiving -openly for the same many goodly words. Thus wishing myself with thyself, -I bid thee, my own good servant and chief overseer of my works, most -heartily farewell: by thine who is wholly and only thine, yea and for -all thine while life lasteth. From Windsor the fourth of September by -thy right worshipful master and most honest husband master Sir - - “WILLIAM SEYNTLO, esquire. - -“Commend me to my mother and to all my brothers and sisters, not -forgetting Frank with the rest of my children and thine. The Amnar[4] -saluteth thee and sayeth no gentleman’s children in England shall be -better welcome nor better looked unto than our boys. Once again, -farewell good honest sweet. - -“Myself or Greyves shall be the next messenger. - - “To my own dear wife at - Chatsworth deliver this.” - - -_Sir William Saint-Loe to Lady Saint-Loe._ - - -“My hap is evil, my time worse spent; for that my reward as yet is -nothing more than fair words with the like promises. Take all in good -part; and if I should understand the contrary, it would trouble me more -than my pen shall express. I have leave to come and wait upon thee, I -and my brother Clement, with two or three good fellows more: [we] had -been with thee by this day if it had not been for our —— matter, the -which I will not leave over rawly. I will forbear the answering of all -particularities in thy last letter written unto me, for that God willing -I will this next week be the messenger myself. Master Man came home the -night before the date hereof. He putteth me in great hope of the matter -you know of. Thus trusting that God provideth for us all things for the -best, I end; committing thee and all thine which are mine unto his -blessed will and ordinance. Farewell, my own sweet Bess. From Master -Man’s house in Redcross Street, the 12th of October, by him who dareth -not so near his coming home to term thee as thou art: yet thine - - “WILLIAM SEYNTLO. - -“My cousin Clarke saluteth thee, who was by me at the writing hereof. - - “To my own good wife at - Chatsworth deliver this. - - -In this letter he complains of the heavy charge for his hired Court -apparel. - -_Sir William Saint-Loe to Lady Saint-Loe._ - - -“My honest sweet Chatsworth: I like the weekly price of my hired court -stuff so evil that upon Thursday next I will send it home again, at -which day the week endeth. I pray you cause such stuff as Mowsall left -packed in a sheet to be brought hither by the next carrier: there be -hand towels and other things therein that I must occupy when I shall lie -at Whitehall. My men hath neither shirt nor any other thing to shift -them until that come. Trust none of your men to ride any [of] your -housed horses, but only James Cromp or William Marchington; but neither -of them without good cause serve speedily to be done. For nags there be -enough about the house to serve other purposes. One handful of oats to -every one of the geldings at a watering will be sufficient so they be -not laboured. You must cause some[one] to oversee the horsekeeper for -that he is very well learned in loitering. - -“The Queen hath found great fault with my long absence saying that she -would talk with me farther, and that she would well chide me. Whereunto -I answered that when her highness understood the truth and the cause she -would not be offended. Whereunto she said ‘Very well, very well.’ -Howbeit hand of hers I did not kisse. - -“The Lord Keeper hath promised me faithfully to be at both days’ -hearing; and that if either law or conscience be on my side I shall have -it to my contentment. Vaughan is come unto town, but not yet Bagott. -Stevens and we shall go through on Friday night next, at which time his -brother will be here, who hath disbursed seven hundred of the twelve -hundred pounds. I have an extreme pain in my teeth since Sunday dinner. -Thus with aching teeth I end, praying the living [God] to preserve thee -and all thine. Written at London, against my will where I am if other -ways our matters might well be ended, this 24th of October: - -“Your loving husband with aching heart until we meet, - - “WILLIAM SEYNTLO. - -“If you think good, lease your fishing in Dove unto Agard. We are the -losers of suffering it as we have done. - - “To my loving wife at Chatsworth - give this with speed.” - - -This next letter is from Sir George Pierrepoint in gratitude of her -kindly offices. His family was afterwards closely connected with that of -Bess of Hardwick, for her eldest daughter married Sir Henry Pierrepoint. - -_Sir George Pierrepoint to Lady Saint-Loe._ - - -“Right worshipful and very good Lady: after my heartiest manner I -commend me to your Ladyship: even so pray you I may be to good Mr. -Seyntloe: most heartily thanking you both for your great pains taken -with me at Holme, accepting everything (though it were never so rudely -handled) in such gentle way as you did; which doth and will cause me to -love you the better while I live if I were able to do you other pleasure -or service; and the rather because I understand your Ladyship hath not -forgotten my suit to you at your going away as specially to make Mr. -Sackville and Mr. Attorney my friends in the matter between Mr. Whalley -and me, wherein he doeth me plain wrong (as I take it is my conscience) -only to reap trouble and unquiet me. But I trust so much in God’s help, -and partly by your Ladyship’s good means, and continuance of your -goodness towards me, that he shall not overthrow me in my righteous -cause. And touching such communication as was between us as at Holme, if -your Ladyship and the gentlewoman your daughter like or be upon sight as -well as I and my wife like the young gentlewoman, I will not shrink from -it I said or promised; by the grace of God who preserve your Ladyship -and my Master your husband long together in wealth, health and -prosperity to his pleasure, and your gentle heart’s desire. From my poor -house at Woodhouse the 4th of November 1561, by the rude lusty hands of -your good Ladyship’s assuredly always to command. - - “GEORGE PIERREPOINT. - “To the right worshipful and my - singular good Lady, my Lady - Sentloo at London this be delivered.” - - -This other letter is highly typical for the good lady’s literary style -and her attitude towards her employees. It is to James Crompe, her man -of affairs. - - -“Crompe, I do understand by your letters that Wortly saith he will -depart at our Ladyday next. I will that you shall have him bound in an -obligation to avoid[5] at the same day, for sure I will trust no more to -his promise. And when he doth tell you that he is any penny behind for -work done to Mr. Cavendish or me, he doth lie like a false knave: for I -am most sure he did never make anything for me but two vanes to stand -upon the house. I do very well like your sending sawyers to Pentrege and -Medoplecke, for that will further my works: and so I pray you in any -other thing that will be a help to my building, let it be done. And for -Thomas Mason, if you can hear where he is, I would very gladly he were -at Chatsworth. I will let you know by my next letter what work Thomas -Mason shall begin at first, when he doth come. And as for the other -mason which Sir James told you of, if he will not apply his work, you -know that he is not the man for me; and the mason’s work which I have to -do is not much, and Thomas Mason will very well oversee that work. I -perceive Sir James is much misliked for his religion; but I think his -wisdom is such that he will make small account of that matter. I would -have you tell my aunt Lenecker that I would have the little garden which -is by the new house made a garden this year. I care not whether she -bestow any great cost thereof; but to sow it with all kinds of herbs and -flowers and some pieces of it with mallows. I have sent you by this -carrier three bundles of garden seeds all written with William -Marchington’s hand; and by the next you shall know how to use them in -every point. - -“From the Court the 8th of March, - - “Your mistress, - “E. SEYNTLO.” - - -The “Aunt Lenecker” (more correctly known as Lynacre) was a Leake and -sister of Lady St. Loe’s mother. She seems to have lived for some years -with her niece, possibly since her first widowhood. - -Nothing very exciting happened to the St. Loe couple in their short -married life. When not at Court they paid visits, were entertained, or -entertained their own visitors, as scraps of correspondence show. They -must have had traffic already with the great family of Talbot—which, -besides Sheffield Castle, owned so many large seats in Derby and -Nottingham—and both of them naturally held intercourse with “Mr. -Secretary Walsingham” and “Mr. Treasurer Cecil.” - -When Sir William St. Loe died—tolerably soon, alas!—Bess Hardwick had -gone far with her building, social and actual. Her third widowhood found -her richer, bolder, better known at Court, and able to play her part in -an ever-widening circle of the powerful and prosperous. - -Such a lady would naturally make enemies. In 1567 she was slandered by -Henry Jackson, an ex-scholar of Merton College, Oxford, the tutor of her -children. Instantly the matter went to the Council, and the Council -wrote in September to the Archbishop of Canterbury. “Lady St. Loo, -widow, having retained as schoolmaster Henry Jackson ... is disturbed by -scandalous reports raised against her family by him; you are to examine -the matter thoroughly and speedily with the assistance of the -Solicitor-General Mr. Oseley and Mr. Peter Osborne or other -Ecclesiastical Commissioners, that the lady’s good name may be -preserved; if he has unjustly defamed her he is to be severely -punished,” runs the digest of the draft in the State MS. And immediately -upon the conclusion of the examination the Queen herself intervenes on -behalf of the lady “who has long served with credit in our Court,” and -forthwith she commands the punishment of the wicked clerk: “extreme -punishment, corporal or otherwise, openly or private, and that -speedily.” - -Besides the danger of slander there was the trap of intrigue. Up to the -present Bess Hardwick had kept clear of mischief, but, native curiosity -apart, she could not, as Lady of the Bedchamber, help being often the -recipient of the secrets of her friends. The romantic love story of Lady -Catherine Grey, who held a similar Court post to herself, brought her -into a tight place. For the benefit of those who do not recall the tale -it shall be set forth again here. - -The Lady Catherine was the sister of Lady Jane Grey. By a curious -combination of circumstances—the exclusion given by the will of Henry -VIII to the posterity of Margaret of Scotland, the publication of the -will of Edward VI, and the non-repeal of certain Acts of Parliament—it -was judged that the right to the crown rested with the House of Suffolk. -To this great house Lady Catherine was the heir. She was formally -contracted in extreme youth to Lord Herbert, the son of the Earl of -Pembroke. But the wise Earl, in dread of the acute complications which -such a marriage might entail, arranged for a divorce. This probably -affected the lady but little. She was young, she was attractive and -romantic, she could meet cavaliers enough and to spare in the immediate -circle of the Queen. But, as all the world knows, her Majesty, while she -kept a dozen men languishing about her, was very loth to have any of her -ladies wed. Love affairs must be very secret, lest the parties incurred -her disfavour and the loss of benefits. As for Lady Catherine, her -birth, as has been shown, rendered her a mark for all manner of -suspicion. At Court she was the close companion of Lady Jane Seymour, -daughter of the Duke of Somerset. This Lady Jane had a brother, no less -than the Earl of Hertford. What more inevitable than a love affair -between him and Catherine? There were sorrows enough in the background -of her history, slavery enough—despite pageant and hunting and the -comings and goings of great persons from foreign courts—to endure at the -hands of the energetic, alert, excitable, witty, jealous royal mistress. -Little by little the love story wove itself in the manner of every love -tale. A community of interest, a series of assemblies which passed in -array her Majesty’s ladies before the eyes of her gentlemen, little -incidents which brought out the personalities of the two, mere -propinquity, a look here and a word there, did their work. The two were -soon secretly plighted, with the Lady Jane to share and shield their -dear secret. Many anxious moments must have gone to their councils. To -declare their troth would only be a signal for their instant separation. -The same result would arise if they humbly asked the royal permission to -be betrothed. To marry and fly would only savour of deep State -conspiracy. To marry and bide quietly and then face the astonished and -scandalous world with an air of “Indeed, and it is true. So part us you -shall not. And, moreover, ’tis our affair. Wherefore, fling your mud -elsewhere!” seemed the wisest way in the end, and also followed the line -of least resistance. - -One morning—surely as crisp and heartening a day as could be desired for -such a purpose—the Queen’s Majesty went to Eltham in Kent to hunt. My -Lady Jane and my Lady Catherine stayed behind. When all was quiet they -left the Palace (Westminster) “by the stairs at the orchard” and -strolled quietly “along the sands.” Those sands led to the Earl of -Hertford’s house in “Chanon Row.” He was waiting for his lady; he did -not even leave her to call the priest. That was the Lady Jane’s errand. -There is something very delightful about this incident, and the steady -chaperon’s part undertaken by the Earl’s sister. The priest came, the -wedding took place. After the brief ceremony there could not be much -dalliance or entertainment. It was not yet the time to give the secret -to the world. The ladies must reach the Palace again before hue and cry -could be raised. They did not go back by “the sands,” probably because -the tide had risen. They went back by boat. The Earl did not accompany -them. But he led his bride and his sister to the boat which waited for -them at the foot of the water-stairs of his house. He assisted them -in—it must have been very hard to let go the hand of the woman so newly -pledged to him—and the shallop went quietly on its way and delivered its -fair passengers at the Palace stairs without exciting comment. A little -later the two ladies were demurely seated at dinner “in Master -Comptroller’s chamber.” Probably neither of them played that evening -much of a table part. - -The bride was left to bear the onus of the affair. After a few stolen -meetings the Earl went to France. And presently the world began to point -and stare. The report grew, but no one seemed able to credit it. At the -close of August, 1561, the Earl’s mother wrote to Cecil mentioning the -rumour, denying all knowledge of it, and hoped that the wilfulness of -her unruly child, Hertford, would not diminish the Queen’s favour. On -the same date Sir Edward Warner, Lieutenant of the Tower, wrote to the -Queen stating that he had questioned Lady Catherine as to her “love -practices,” but she would confess nothing. It is said that Lady St. Loe -burst into tears when Lady Catherine made confession to her. Probably -the older woman knew what was in store for them both. The royal warrant -to Sir Edward Warner not only required him to “examine the Lady -Catherine very straightly how many hath been privy to love between her -and the Lord of Hertford from the beginning,” but continues: “Ye shall -also send to Alderman Lodge, secretly, for St. Low and shall put her in -awe of divers matters confessed by the Lady Catherine; and so also deal -with her that she may confess to you all her knowledge in the same -matters. It is certain that there hath been great practices and -purposes; and since the death of the Lady Jane[6] she hath been most -privy. And as ye shall see occasion, so ye may keep St. Low two or three -nights, more or less, and let her be returned to Lodge’s or kept still -with you, as ye shall think meet.” - -After poor Lady Catherine took Lady Loe into her confidence, she made -frantic application for help to Lord Robert Dudley—not yet Earl of -Leicester—so high in the Queen’s good graces. In this there is sheer -drama as well as pathos—this confession and piteous appeal from the -young and comely lady of quality, whose only fault was that she had -married for love, to the handsome, pampered, arrogant cavalier, the -Queen’s darling. Lady Hertford went to his very chamber in Court to -implore him to stand between her parlous state as prospective mother and -the Queen’s anger. Yet nothing in such contingencies could divert -Elizabeth’s fury, or make her act in a humane fashion. Lord Hertford was -summoned to England to undergo trial with his wife, and very soon both -were committed separately to the Tower. But before this could be done -the farce of a public enquiry had to be played. A commission was -ordained, pompously headed by no less a person than Archbishop Parker. -The accused were requested to produce, within a given time, witnesses of -their marriage. That they failed to do this is extraordinary. The priest -seems to have disappeared, and Lady Jane Seymour appeared unable to find -him or to assist in furnishing the required evidence. But as this couple -could not satisfy the Commission in time they were sentenced to be -imprisoned during the Queen’s pleasure. “Displeasure” would be the -correct word. For Elizabeth knew little but vanity and vexation of -spirit at this period. The very word marriage must have been a red rag -to her. With the strong vitality and virility of her father warring -within her against the heritage of the feminine instincts of her mother, -Anne Boleyn, with countless suitors and innumerable flatterers to -encourage and keep at bay alternately, with one eye fixed on Mary of -Scotland and another on the “devildoms of Spain,” her life just now was -a constant turmoil. Her whole entourage was forced to share in it. She -would not decide upon a consort to help her; she belittled the estate of -marriage one day and dallied with it the next. No wonder that poor Mr. -Treasurer Cecil wrote as he did on the eve of the New Year of 1564. -Schemes matrimonial whirled round him like the winter snow. Elizabeth -was being wooed by a French monarch and an Austrian Emperor at the same -moment; the Lennox family and Mary of Scotland were working to achieve -the marriage of the latter with Darnley, and the Lady Mary Grey, fired -no doubt by her sister’s intrigue and sick of loneliness, had actually -surreptitiously married John Keys, the Serjeant Porter to the Queen. -Meanwhile the Earl and Countess of Hertford were in the Tower. In -addition, the Queen was putting up her beloved Dudley, now Earl of -Leicester, to oppose Darnley as a possible consort for Scottish Mary. -Shrewd old Cecil shows, however, that she is only half-hearted about it: -“I see the qn M^{ty} very desyroos to have my L. of Lecester placed in -this high degree to be the Scottish Queen’s husband, but whan it commeth -to the conditions which are demanded I see her then remiss of her -earnestness.”[7] - -He concludes wearily enough:— - - -“This also I see in the Qn Ma^{ty}, a sufficient contentation to be -moved to marry abrood, and if it is so may [it] plese Almighty God, to -leade by the hand some mete person to come and lay hand on her to her -contentation, I cold than wish my self more helth to endure my yeres -somewhat longar to enjoye such a world here as I trust wold follow: -otherwise I assure yow, as now thyngs hang in desperation, I have no -comfort to lyve.” - - -My Lady St. Loe, as confidante, was forced to weather the storm and -endure reprimand. The married lovers, meanwhile, dragged out their days -in durance. Their son was born in the Tower. In vain they languished, -pined, and implored the intercession of friends. In 1562 the Earl was -allowed a little more ease. Husband and wife managed to meet again. -Another child was born to them, and my Lord was duly fined fifteen -thousand pounds by the Star Chamber, for this event was construed into a -new State offence. In 1563 the dreaded plague caused Elizabeth to remove -her poor love-birds from the Tower. Lady Catherine went to the house of -her uncle, Sir John Grey, in Essex, and he was roused to uttermost -compassion and distress by her wretched mental and physical condition. -It was in mid-Lent that he wrote to Cecil emphatically and ironically:— - - -“It is a great while me thinkethe, Cousin Cecile, since I sent unto you, -in my neices behalf, albeit I knowe, (opportunitie so servinge) you are -not unmindful of her miserable and compfortlesse estate. For who -wantinge the Princes favor, maye compt himselfe to live in any Realme? -And because this time of all others hathe ben compted a time of mercie -and forgevenes I cannot but recommende her woefull liffe unto you. In -faithe I wolde I were the Queen’s confessor this Lent, that I might -joine her in penaunce to forgive and forget; or otherwise able to steppe -into the pulpett to tell her Highness, that God will not forgive her, -unleast she frelye forgeve all the worlde.” - - -This letter is worth quoting because it shows the prevailing attitude of -the Elizabethan courtier. No one who lacked the favour of the sovereign -could be accounted as one living. Lady Catherine, once under that heavy -cloud of disfavour, never emerged, but died broken and miserable within -six years of her unhappy marriage. Wherefore Lady St. Loe had chance -enough to learn her lesson, and was fortunate in that her share of the -affair was visited only by a cross-examination and warning. She was not -at all the sort of woman to brook being left out in the cold. She was -too wise, of course, ever to have engulfed herself in a marriage of this -sort, but in such a case, had she not managed to divert Elizabeth’s -anger by some master stroke of wit and diplomacy, she would certainly -not have languished of “woofull griefe” nor starved herself to death, -like Lady Catherine, for sorrow. - -At such a time and in face of the fresh hubbub caused at Court by the -marriage of Lady Mary Grey (“an unhappy chance and monstruoos,” comments -Cecil, in a letter to the English Ambassador in France), the peace and -security of Chatsworth offered themselves as a happy refuge against all -complications. There is a grotesque humour in Cecil’s use of that word -monstrous, for Lady Mary was almost a dwarf, and Keys, whom Cecil calls -“the biggest gentleman in this Court,” had secured his post of Serjeant -Porter owing to his magnificent size and height. He was twice Lady -Mary’s age, and was a widower with several children. The Queen clapped -him in the Fleet, and condemned Lady Mary to confinement in the houses -of successive friends. The pair never met after their hasty wedding. - -Thus, on all sides, Court was a place of “dispeace,” while in Derbyshire -Lady St. Loe had good neighbours, people of quality and substance, and -was safe within her parks and palings. She did not share her royal -mistress’s distrust of matrimony, for she was free to choose her next -lord, and there was no reason why she should remain a widow longer than -she could help. - -It is not to be suggested for a moment that she had no suitors and that -she was not the subject of all kinds of matrimonial gossip. One Fowler -(subsequently committed to the Tower in connection with the discovery of -suspicious papers) opines in his “notes” that “either Lord Darcy or Sir -John Thynne are to marry my Lady St. Loe, and not Harry Cobham.” -Doubtless the Cobham match would have pleased her well, and she would -have been quite in her element in the place which afforded a seat and a -surname to that noble and splendid family upon whom the evil days of -Jacobean confiscation and the betrayal of Sir Walter Raleigh had not yet -fallen. A sister of Lord Cobham was married to Mr. Secretary Cecil, “and -the match would have been advantageous, but possibly my Lady, with her -deep insight into character, divined that the gentleman was not of the -steady stuff which makes for worldly security.” Moreover the best -matches are by no means to be found near the Court, and close at hand, -in the same county, lived one greater than the Cobhams, a man whom many -a maid and every widow would be proud to espouse. He was a widower, an -earl, the owner of seven seats, bearer of a high government post, and he -came of a long line of distinguished soldiers. Lady St. Loe went to work -wisely. She had the assistance of her dear gossip and contemporary, Lady -Cobham. No one could have acted the go-between more discreetly. Before -long the fashionable world had something to talk about in the -announcement of the fourth marriage of Bess Hardwick. - - - - - CHAPTER III - “A GREAT GENTLEMAN” - - -The fourth husband of “Building Bess” was no less a person than George -Talbot, sixth Earl of Shrewsbury. Though the name does not appear in the -great roll of the prominent soldiers at the battle of Hastings, the -first Talbot—then Talebot—of whom anything noteworthy is recorded, won -the first title, a barony, for his family at the close of the career of -William the First. Thenceforward the Talbots march magnificently through -the history of England—great gentlemen, castellans, commanders, -governors, judges, lords-lieutenant. They wielded authority in Wales, -fought in France, Scotland, Ireland, Castile, occasionally fell under -suspicion of conspiracy, and emerged without hurt. Once and once only -was their pride humbled in the dust, when the hitherto invincible -tactics of John Talbot, the greatest general of his day, the chief glory -of all the Talbots before and since, were overcome by the generalship of -the Maid of Orleans. It must have hit the great general very hard to -find himself in prison on French soil for three long years at the hands -of a woman. Neither force nor strategy freed him, but mere money. He had -married a rich wife—heiress to all “Hallamshire,”[8] including the -castle of Sheffield. In 1432 he agreed to pay a large ransom, and -hurried back to England, bursting with purpose and revenge. Instantly he -raised a fresh force, rejoined the English army in France, and fought -with such terrible and triumphant results that his name, like that of -Bonaparte, figured for generations as a bogy with which to scare -fractious children. It was this tremendous campaign which won for his -race the great earldom of Shrewsbury. - -George, the sixth earl, the great gentleman now dealt with, inherited -all the administrative qualities of his ancestors, though he was less -intimately associated with war than his father Francis. It was well also -that his duties should have been to a greater extent civil and defensive -than military and aggressive. For he had stepped into a great -inheritance, and his burdens, as householder and county magnate, were -stupendous. The manors and castles of Worksop, Welbeck, Bolsover, -Sheffield, Tutbury, Wingfield, and Rufford were all his. He came into -his own in 1560. The greatest gift he received in that year was the -Garter which the Queen bestowed on him. Five years later he was -appointed Lord-Lieutenant of the counties of York, Nottingham, and -Derby. Subsequently the post of High Steward in the place of the unhappy -fifth Duke of Norfolk was added to his honours. In the third year of his -lieutenancy the affair with Bess Hardwick was in full swing. - -From both sides it was a reasonable and profitable alliance. He was a -widower with sons and daughters who needed mothering. Her children -needed a father. There was wealth enough to provide for all. Yet -possibly family dissensions might arise amongst the young folk. But -against this risk my lady had devised a splendid scheme of -protection—the intermarriage of some of the children. They were but -children, the two couples—Gilbert Talbot, the fifteen-year-old second -son of the Lord-Lieutenant and Mary Cavendish, and the bride’s son Henry -Cavendish, to whom Grace Talbot, the Earl’s daughter, was given as wife. - -The aforesaid childish marriages were settled and carried through -forthwith. Shortly afterwards the wedding of their elders took place -with due magnificence, while the bride, besides her Cavendish and Barlow -properties, brought to her fourth husband the Gloucestershire estate of -St. Loe. - -If the Cavendish epoch had been one of security and happiness, the -Shrewsbury epoch promised to be one of sheer brilliance and delight. It -is true there were one or two dissentient voices. Said a certain John -Hall, under subsequent examination upon his arrest for Scottish -conspiracy, that, though he served as a gentleman of the Earl’s -household for some years, he so misliked my Lord’s marriage with this -wife, as divers others of his friends did, that he resigned his post. -Yet the Queen and her circle approved. That was the main thing. The -following letter from a kinsman at Court emphasises the fact:—[9] - - -“May it please you to understand that Mr. Wingfield hath delivered your -venison to the Queen’s Majesty with my lord’s most humble commission, -and your Ladyship with humble thanks from both your honours for her -great goodness. - -“[I] assure your Ladyship of my faith, her Majesty did talk one long -hour with Mr. Wingfield of my Lord and you so carefully, that, as God is -my judge, I think your honours have no friend living that could have -more consideration, nor more show love and great affection. In the end -she asked when my Lady meant to come to the Court: he answered he knew -not: then said she, ‘I am assured if she might have her own will she -would not be long before she would see me.’ Then said, ‘I have been glad -to see my Lady Saint-Loe, but now more desirous to see my Lady -Shrewsbury.’ ‘I hope,’ said she, ‘my Lady hath known my good opinion of -her; and thus much I assure you, there is no Lady in this land that I -better love and like.’ Mr. Batleman can more at large declare unto your -honour. And so with most humble commendations to my very good Lord, I -wish to you both as the Queen’s Majesty doth desire; and so take my -leave in humble wise. From St. John’s the 21st of October. - - “Your honours to command, - “E. WINGFIELD.” - - -There was certainly nothing whatever in this marriage to upset -Elizabeth’s plans. Indeed, it really paved the way for her schemes and -made it easier for her to utilise not only the Earl’s wealth, his -authority and position, but all his country seats in turn for the -greater security of her life and throne. - -My Lady Shrewsbury was forty-eight, my Lord had been but eight years an -Earl. Time had not yet marked on his face the lines of anxiety and care -which the next twenty-three years were to bring him. He was at the -zenith of his career, and the Queen hinted mysteriously that ere long -she would show him still more emphatic proofs of her trust and affection -in so splendid a servitor. It is in a very happy and devoted vein that -he writes love letters from Court just after marriage to his second -bride, in which he addresses her as “sweet none.”[10] - -It is regrettable that these letters to his “none” are not more -numerous. Otherwise the Earl’s correspondence all his life was enormous, -and the masses of letters which mirror contemporary history and his -duties in connection with them are nearly all comprised in that rich -heritage of manuscript known as the Talbot Papers. Cecil is his constant -correspondent. As Lord-Lieutenant of three such great counties he would -naturally be kept _au courant_ of great happenings. Is there fear of -French invasion? Immediately the Lords of the Privy Council send him -instructions. He is to organise companies of demi-lances, to find horses -for them—“a good strong and well-set gelding and a man on his back meet -to wear a corselet and shoot a dagge” runs the specification. Did her -Majesty receive “letters out of Spain”? Copies of the same were sent to -the Earl “to the intent that you may thereby see what the humour and -disposition of those parties [i.e. the King of Spain and his emissary] -tend unto.” Did France goad Mary of Scotland into that unforgettable -offence—the adoption of the English royal arms? Then also must his -lordship be acquainted with the fact and its immense possibilities. -Presently active Scottish hostility seemed imminent, and the letter -which travelled to my Lord from Berwick to bid him have all his men in -readiness to move to the Border is cumbrously and theatrically endorsed -“Haste, haste, haste, haste, post haste with all possible haste.” - -[Illustration: - - _After a portrait at Rufford Abbey_ - - GEORGE TALBOT, EARL OF SHREWSBURY -] - -[Illustration: - - _After a portrait in the possession of the Duke of Portland_ - - ELIZABETH COUNTESS OF SHREWSBURY - - Page 38 -] - -The marriage of Mary and Darnley, the exciting news of the force raised -by the rebellious Earls of Moray and Arran against their Queen -immediately after the ceremony, the perilous position of Mary betwixt -her enemies—between Moray’s force on one side, secretly encouraged by -Elizabeth, and Elizabeth’s forces, supplemented by two thousand Irish -and the Earl of Argyle’s company, on the other—the details of -field-pieces and “harquebusses,” all these events and matters passed in -review under the eyes of the splendid and cautious Earl of Shrewsbury. -Scarcely a day went by but some important paper or letter, official or -private, was put into his hands. At every turn he was helping to “make -history,” while he was a keen spectator of the Scottish drama up to the -point when Mary fled out of her own country to implore the aid and -protection of her sister sovereign. - -It is now that the plot—Elizabeth’s plot which she had kept up her -sleeve—begins to peep out. The first authentic news of it apparently -went to the other Elizabeth, the newly made Countess of Shrewsbury, in -the following letter from the English Court. The signature is torn off, -but the correspondent has weighty news to tell, in spite of his -deprecatory attitude towards mere rumours:— - - -“My most humble duty remembered unto your honourable good Ladyship. If -it were not for my bounden duty’s sake I would be loth to write, because -there is so small certainty in occurrences, but (seeing I am bound to -write) it is but small that I see with my own eyes that is worth -writing, and therefore I am forced to supply by that I do hear; which I -write as I hear by credible report, otherwise I should not write at all, -and therefore if I do err it is pardonable. The news is here that my -Lord your husband is sworn of the Privy Council; and that the Scottish -Queen is on her journey to Tutbury, something against her will, and will -be under my Lord’s custody there.” - - -The rest of the letter is perhaps worth quoting, because it gives a -picture of public events and suggests such a spacious background for the -present life of Bess Hardwick. It deals with the war now beginning -between Spain and the Netherlands, owing to the barbarous treatment of -the latter by the Duke of Alva, and the commotion occasioned by it in -France. - - -“The report is that the Duke of Alva hath for the lack of money disarmed -the most part of his army; and they are not paid for that is past; but -rob and steal, and much molest the country. And being divers garrisons -at Maestricht of the Walloons the Duke sent to discharge them and sent -Spaniards in their place, who have shut the gates of the Spaniards and -refuse to deliver the town before they are paid their due.... In France -there is a great stir to let the Prince of Condé to join with the Prince -of Orange, so that the King divides his force, the Duke of Anjou to stop -the passage of the Prince of Condé, etc., etc.” - - -The letter ends with intimate details:— - - -“And so eftsoons Jesus preserve you and send my cousin Frances a good -hour and your honour a glad grandmother. - -“Scribbled at London ... January, 1568.” - - -Evidently this “Frances” is the eldest daughter of the Countess, who -married Sir Henry Pierrepoint, and whose child is awaited. - -Matters as regards the Earl of Shrewsbury did not move so fast as one -would expect. It was not till June of 1568 that the final orders reached -the Earl to make ready his “castle” of Tutbury for the reception of his -romantic royal prisoner. Mary was now at Carlisle, and the part which -the Earl was to play in her entourage as suggested in contemporary -letters has more the character of that of a prominent cavalier in a -princely retinue than that of a military gaoler. The description in the -French ambassador’s letter reads well:— - - -“A castle named Tutbury, which is only one hundred miles from -here”—London—“and is a very beautiful place as they say, especially for -hunting, in which, whenever it takes place, the Earl of Shrewsbury, who -has a portion of his estate in that neighbourhood, is ordered to give -her his company, along with other Lords and gentlemen thereabout.” - - -The Queen was feeling her way, slowly sounding the Shrewsburys’ -relatives, careful always to assert her appreciation not only of lord, -but of lady. My Lord came to Court, and still her Majesty beat about the -bush. - -The following letters[11] from the Earl belong to this epoch of the -lives of the newly wedded pair:— - - -“My dear none, being here arrived at Wingfield late yesternight from -Rofford, though very weary in toiling about, yet thinking you would be -desirous to hear from me, scribbled these few lines to let you -understand that I was in health and wished you anights with me. I picked -out a very good time, for since my coming from home I never had letters -but these this morning from Gilbert, which I send you. I mind to-morrow, -God willing, to be with you at Chatsworth: and in the meantime as -occurrences [befall] to me you shall be partaker of them. I thank you, -sweet none, for your baked capon, and chiefest of all for remembering of -me. It will be late to-morrow before my coming to Chatsworth, seven or -eight of the clock at the soonest: and so farewell, my true one. - -“This 28th June. - - “Your faithful husband, - “G. SHREWSBURY.” - - -“My dear none, having received your letter of the first of December -which came in very good time, else had I sent one of these few remaining -with me to have brought me word of your health, which I doubted of for -that I heard not from you of all this time till now, which drove me in -dumps, but now relieved again by your writing unto me. I thank you, -sweet none, for your puddings and venison. The puddings have I bestowed -in this wise: [a] dozen to my Lady Cobham, and as many to my L. Steward -and unto my L. of Leicester: and the rest I have reserved to myself to -eat in my chamber. The venison is yet at London, but I have sent for it -hither. - -“I perceive Ned Talbot hath been sick, and [is] now past danger. I thank -God I have such a none that is so careful over me and mine. God send me -soon home to possess my greatest joy: if you think it is you, you are -not deceived. - -“I will not forget to deal with the Master of the Rolls for young -Knifton. He seems to be much my friend, and is now in dealing between -Denenge and me, for the lease of Abbot Stake, agreed upon by me and -Tamworth he should so do. He holds it at a thousand marks: and the -Master of the Rolls hath driven it to five hundred pounds, which -methinks too much for such a lease, yet because it lies so, as I am -informed, amongst Gilbert’s lands, I have made my steward to offer four -hundred pounds, and to get [delay] till the next term, because I would -have your advice therein. And for that I live in hope to be with you -before you can return answer again, you shall understand that this -present Monday in the morning finding the Queen in the garden at good -leisure, I gave her Majesty thanks that she had so little regard to the -clamorous people of Bolsover[12] in my absence. She declared unto me -what evil speech was against me, my nearness and state in housekeeping, -and as much as was told her, which she now believes with as good words -as I could wish, declaring that ere it were long I should well perceive -she did so trust me as she did few. She would not tell me therein, but -[I] doubt [not] it was about the custody of the Scottish Queen. Here is -private speech that Gates and Vaughan should make suit to have her, but -this day I perceive it is altered. I think before Sunday these matters -will come to some pass, that we shall know how long our abode shall be, -but howsoever it falls out, I will not fail but be with you before -Christmas, or else you shall come to me. - -“The plague is dispersed far abroad in London, so that the Queen keeps -her Christmas here, and goeth not to Greenwich as it was meant. My Lady -Cobham, your dear friend, wishes your presence here: she loves you well. -I tell her I have the cause to love her best, for that she wished me so -well to speed as I did: and as the pen writes so the heart thinks, that -of all earthly joys that hath happened unto me, I thank God chiefest for -you: for with you I have all joy and contentation of mind, and without -you death is more pleasant to me than life if I thought I should long be -from you: and therefore, good wife, do as I will do, hope shortly of our -meeting, and farewell, dear sweet none. From Hampton Court this Monday -at midnight, for it is every night so late before I go to my bed, being -at play in the privy chamber at Premiro, where I have lost almost a -hundred pounds, and lacked my sleep. - - “Your faithful husband till death, - “G. SHREWSBURY. - -“Wife, tell my daughter Maule that I am not pleased with her that she -hath not written to me with her sister: yet will I not forget her and -the rest, and pray God to bless them all. - -“To my wife the Countess of Shrewsbury at Tutbury give this.” - - -The daughter “Maule” here named is evidently Mary. Besides Gilbert and -Grace Talbot, married as stated to the Cavendish daughter and son of -Lady Shrewsbury, the Earl’s children were Francis, the eldest (who -married Anne Herbert, daughter of William Earl of Pembroke, and did not -inherit, since he died in 1582); Mary, who married Sir George Saville, -Kt.; Catherine, who married Henry Earl of Pembroke; Edward, who married -Jane (elder daughter of Cuthbert Lord Ogle, co-heiress with the wife of -Charles Cavendish), and succeeded to his father’s title, after Gilbert, -as eighth earl; and Henry Talbot, who married Elizabeth, daughter of Sir -William Rayner, and left two daughters. - -The next letter from the Earl gives the Queen’s important decision:— - - -“My dear none, I have received your letter of the 8th of December, -wherein appeareth your desire for my soon coming. What my desire is -thereunto, I refer the same to your construsion.[13] If I so judge of -time, methinks time longer since my coming hither without you, my only -joy, than I did since I married you: such is faithful affection, which I -never tasted so deeply of before. This day or to-morrow we shall know -great likelihood of our despatch. I think it will be Christmas Even -before I shall arrive at Tutbury. Things fall out very evil against the -Scots’ Queen. What she shall do yet is not resolved of. - -“As it chances, I am glad that I am here: for if I were not I were like -to have most part of my leases granted over my head: there is such suit -for leases in reversion of the Duchy. My park that I have in keeping -called Morley Park is granted in reversion for thirty years, wherein I -have made some stir. My good neighbour hath a promise of it, and if I -can get it put in I am about to get a friend of mine to put the forest -of the Peak in his book. I have offered a thousand pounds for a lease in -reversion for thirty years. I must pay Denege five hundred and forty-one -for his lease of Stoke. How money will be had for these matters assure -you I know not. I will make such means to Mr. Mildmay for the stay of -Tutbury tithe, as I will not be prevented: for it is high time, for -there was never such striving and prancing for leases in reversion as be -now at this present. - -“My L. Steward hath been sick and in danger, but now well. My L. -Sheffield is departed this life; and my L. Paget just after. Your black -man is in health. - - “Your faithful husband till my end, - “G. SHREWSBURY. - -“From the Court this Monday the 13th of December. Now it is certain the -Scots’ Queen comes to Tutbury to my charge. In what order I cannot -ascertain you. - - “To my wife the Countess of Shrewsbury - at Tutbury give this.” - - -It was not till just the close of 1568 that Shrewsbury was certain of -his new duty and in a position to write that triumphant postscript. -Within a month, in the beginning of the New Year, he had taken over from -Sir Francis Knollys the task which was to prove so engrossing, -stupendous, so provocative of every imaginable complication, official -and domestic. - -Imagine the excitement of my Lady at such a juncture! She knew the -Scottish Queen only by hearsay, and her curiosity must have been kept at -boiling pitch while her heart swelled with importance in the -anticipation of the additional chatelaine’s duties thrust upon her by -the august guest. She had known what it was to deal with a princess in -captivity, for she had been acquainted with Elizabeth before her -accession. The present matter was far more vital, more portentous. The -Queen who rode wearily from Bolton Castle to Sheffield and thence to -Tutbury must be humoured as Queen, served as queens are served, but a -network of rules were being prepared, not only for her own retinue and -the household, but for earl and lady. - -The Earl, foreseeing all such domestic complications, had asked the -Council for directions as to the treatment of his prisoner. -“Remembrances for my L. of Shrewsbury” stands at the head of notes, in -his handwriting, all duly numbered. Of these No. 5 reads, “For my wife’s -access unto her, if she send for her.” - -To this the reply in Cecil’s handwriting is, “The Queen of Scots may see -the Countess, if she is sick, or for any other necessary cause, but -rarely. No other gentlewoman must be allowed access to her.” The -remainder of the rules are strict enough, and the pleasant country-house -picture drawn by the French Ambassador, De la Forest, in the letter -quoted, is rudely effaced by these details. Shrewsbury is to be well -fortified by an array of facts against the Scottish Queen, lest her -pleading should win his sympathies and her captive condition arouse his -indignation too deeply. How the regulations at every turn reveal -Elizabeth of England—at once autocratic and apprehensive of her own -importance, at once trustful and suspicious! The document is so vital a -part of the household appanage of the Shrewsburys from this moment until -the close of their wardership that it is worth quoting in the concise -form in which, partly in the original and partly as abstract, it is -given in Leader’s admirable _Mary Queen of Scots in Captivity_. - - -“A memorial of certain thinges imparted by the Q. Matie to the erle of -Shrewsbery, for the causes following. Gyven at Hampton Courte, the -xxvjth day of January 1568, the xjth year of her Mates reign. The Q. has -chosen him in consequence of his approved loyalty and faithfulness, and -the ancient state and blood from which he is descended, to have the -custody of the Queen of Scots. - -“The Earl is to treat her, being a Queen, of the Queen Elizabeth’s -blood, with the reverence and honour meet for a person of his state and -calling and for her degree. He must ask Lord Scrope and the Vice -Chamberlain [Knollys] about the ceremonies used by them towards her, -that ‘she may not find herself to be in the usage of herself abused, nor -by this removing to have her State amended.’ - -“Whatever honour he gives her he must take care that by no pretence she -finds any means to gain any rule over him to practise for her escape. -She must have no opportunity either to escape nor yet to practise with -anyone to help her to escape. He doubtless knows how important it is to -the Queen’s honour and reputation and quietness that Mary does not -depart without the Queen’s assent. No persons must be in conference with -her except those already placed about her as her ordinary servants, and -those who have special licence from the Queen. The latter for no longer -time than is mentioned in the licence. - -“If any persons coming to visit the Earl or anyone in his household, -proffer to come to her presence, or to have conference with any -belonging to her, or if she invites them to come to her presence in the -house or abroad, under colour of hunting, or other pastime, he shall -warn them to forbear, and if needful use his authority to make them -desist, and send their names to the Queen. - -“Persons coming out of Scotland to see her, if of degrees above that of -servants, or if noted to be busy men and practicers, must be remitted to -the Queen for licence. If they are mean servants or persons coming only -to have relief of her, he shall not be so straight towards them as to -give her occasion to say she is kept a prisoner, and yet he must -understand their errands and not suffer them to abide where she shall -be, or to hover about the country. - -“He must make a view of all her ordinary servants when he first takes -the charge, and cause a household roll to be made of those necessary and -of those who were with her at Bolton. With the advice of the Vice -Chamberlain, he must reduce the number, omitting those who are -superfluous and who are fit rather for practices than service.... Her -diet must be kept at the former rate, and payments made by the clerk who -was sent for that purpose from the Queen’s household. He (my Lord -Shrewsbury) must consult the Vice Chamberlain as to the watching of the -house, as he knows her condition and the disposition of those about her. -The Queen intended her first to be placed at Tutbury Castle but as the -house is not fit, if she is nearer the Earl’s house of Sheffield than -Tutbury, she shall remain there till further orders. If she is at -Tutbury, it is left to the Earl’s discretion to allow her to remain, or -to remove her to Sheffield or any other of the Earl’s houses. - -“Because it is thought that she will try to make the Earl think her -cause worthy of favour, and that she is not well used in being -restrained from liberty, the Queen has ordered, that beside the -knowledge which the Earl has of the presumptions produced against her -for the murder of her husband, and her unlawful marriage with the -principal murderer Bothwell, he shall also be informed of other -particulars too long to write here, that he may answer her and her -favourers. He may say, as of himself, that if she is known to utter any -speeches touching the Queen’s honour or doings, it may be an occasion to -publish all her actions, which once being done cannot be revoked, but -many things must follow to her prejudice. - -“The Earl will be allowed wages for 40 persons at 6d. a day, to be used -at his discretion.” - - -As a matter of fact the house at Tutbury was certainly “not fit” for the -reception of any guest. The Shrewsburys made application to the Queen -for hangings and necessaries in the way of furniture; and these were -promised. But they did not arrive. Mary was growing obstreperous and -visited all her misery and annoyance on her present gaoler, Sir Francis -Knollys. He, poor man, was in despair, with his wife dying, and his -piteous requests for discharge from duty unheeded by Elizabeth. No -wonder he wrote at last to say that he would take the matter into his -own hands, “and as sure as God is in heaven, repair to Court, and suffer -any punishment that may be laid upon him, rather than continue in such -employment.” - -And still the much-needed furniture was not in its place. At last my -Lady Shrewsbury, no doubt in desperation, took down such hangings as -there were at Sheffield, and with the help of the borrowed details set -to work to prepare Tutbury. A supplementary instalment of household -articles from Court helped to complete the necessaries. The journey from -Bolton began on January 25th, in morose, biting weather. It brought Mary -of Scotland to the single gate in the wall surrounding Tutbury on the -afternoon of February 4th, a Friday. The position of this place was fair -enough in the beautiful valley of the Dove, but it was not all the -French Ambassador imagined it, and my lady and her household were sore -put to it to make it habitable. The scene of commotion and bustle must -have palpitated with drama. With messengers bringing letters and the -rumours and counter-rumours which filtered through from the country folk -the ten days of Queen Mary’s journey southward must have been a period -of extraordinary tension for all immediately concerned. The condition of -that busy, expectant household at Tutbury under my Lady’s command is -best suggested in the imaginary dialogue overleaf. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - HUBBUB - - - _Scene_: The presence chamber of Tutbury Castle on a raw day of - February, 1569. A casement flapping in the wind. Crimson velvet - drapery lies on the floor, and two women squat there, stitching at - it. Beyond, through an open door, a suite of smaller rooms full of - furniture. - -_First Sewing Woman._ You tug too much of the velvet over to you, Mary. -Let be, and be content with your share. - -_Second Sewing Woman._ I only desire to help you, Richardyne. I scarcely -can hold my needle for the cold. - -_1st S.W._ Then shut the window, you fool. - -_2nd S.W._ Nay, fool I am not, though I be younger than you. For I did -not set the window open. It was the cook. Call him to fasten it. - -_1st S.W._ The cook indeed! His part is to bake and stew, not hang out -of the casements. - -_2nd S.W._ Will there be a great feast, do you think, when this Queen -comes? - -_1st S.W._ There will be feasts every night. - -_2nd S.W._ Lord! how happy it will be! They say she loves dancing. - -_1st S.W._ Who told you this? - -_2nd S.W._ The post that brought my Lord’s letter from Bolton. He knew, -for he spoke like a Scottish man. - -_1st S.W._ Now I see why the fiddler has come from Chatsworth. - -_2nd S.W._ Yes, to make music he has come. He begged my Lady so sore to -keep him here that she promised the poor wretch at last—— - -_1st S.W._ There he is, playing down by the kitchen. - -_2nd S.W._ He is coming here. [_Gets up hastily and trips over the -velvet. Enter a youth with branches of laurel and ivy. He puts them on a -table, and is about to retire when the fiddler enters playing and -bowing._] - -_The Youth._ What do you here, old scraping John? - -_Fiddler._ More than you, fellow of discord, with idle arms. - -_The Youth_ [_angrily_]. They are only waiting to pound thee. - -_Fiddler._ I am my Lord’s servant more than you. He has many boys like -you who can stand and stare, but only one who can fiddle. - -_The Youth_ [_advancing_]. Look to thyself. Thy catgut will not shield -thee much. - -_Fiddler_ [_from behind the table_]. Help, help, Master Crompe! - -_The Women_ [_rising and flinging the velvet over the chair_]. Help, -help—porter, cook, men, all of you! - -_1st S.W._ [_to the youth_]. Boy, do not brawl in the presence chamber. - -_2nd S.W._ No, no, it is foolish. We each must work to-day that we may -dance another day. And how can we dance if you break the fiddler’s head? - -_The Youth_ [_furious_]. He is a lewd fellow, smooth and gentle to you -wenches, but a liar—— - -_Fiddler._ Master Crompe. He calls me a liar. [_Enter the Steward, -Crompe._] - -_Crompe._ Stop your bellowing, all. You, Fiddler—drown the chatter with -your music, if music you must make. Her Ladyship comes. You—boy, go to -the bed-chambers above and help to carry down the napery which she will -give you. Oh! there is more to accomplish than any hands can do. The -stables are not yet ready, two of the scullions are drunk and must go, -the carpenters are short of wood for the mending of the walls of my -Lord’s guardroom, the roof of the dining-hall leaks, and the roll of -canvas for the wall behind the dais, which is mossy and wet, has not -come from France. [_Goes out shaking his head._] - -_2nd S.W._ [_mimicking him_]. Lord, oh, Lord! the sky will tumble on our -heads. - -_1st S.W._ Get back to work, girl. These velvets are for the Scots -Queen’s bedroom. - -_2nd S.W._ Is that true? I will stitch hard if—Master Fiddler will play. - -_Fiddler._ All work, not forgetting the business of eating, goes better -to music. [_Begins to play, walking up and down the room._] - -_2nd S.W._ [_laughing_]. I cannot sew. There is an itch in my ankles. - -_1st S.W._ Fudge! - -_2nd S.W._ Do you think it is the plague that I have? - -_Fiddler._ It means that you must dance and not sew. - - [_2nd S.W., jumping up, gathers up her petticoats, and prances in - time. The Fiddler plays on, and the youth, entering with napery, - thrusts it on to the large table and joins the dance._] - -_2nd S.W._ Faster, Master Fiddler, till feet are as hot as toasts. - - [_In the middle of it, with a jingle of keys and a rustle of skirts, - enter my Lady of Shrewsbury with a long roll of paper in her - hands._] - -_Bess_ [_in the doorway_]. Is this how my command is obeyed? - - [_The music dies away with a trickle, the dancers fall back against - the wall._] - -_1st S.W._ [_rises and curtsies_]. Richardyne’s feet were cold, my Lady, -and she danced to save them from blains. - -_Bess_ [_drily_]. A mess of mustard were the quicker way, I think, to -cure _that_. [_To the youth._] And you—have you also frozen toes? - -_Youth._ Y—yes, my Lady. - -_Bess._ Then go and keep watch outside the castle gate in the wind. That -will warm you quick enow. You can play Jumping Joan all the while and -nobody to stop you. But so soon as you see a light upon the hill it is -the signal that the Queen has passed the woods and is close. [_Exit -Youth._] [_To the Fiddler._] Remember—you—you must not intrude if you -are to be suffered here. You must stay in the kitchens till you are -wanted. - -_Fiddler._ My Lady, I went looking for you and thought to find you here -to know my duties. - -_Bess._ Like enough! Make no noise till you are ordered. [_He turns to -go._] Stop! What tunes can you play? - -_Fiddler._ A hundred and more—“The Derby Ram,” “The Nun’s Green -Rangers,” “The Unconscionable Bachelors,” “The Derby Hero,” “The -Bakewell”—— - -_Bess._ Silence! I do not desire to listen to your dictionary. How do -you call the air you played but now? - -_Fiddler._ The title I know not, my Lady, but the song of it begins— - - You have a lodging in my heart - For which you pay no rent. - -_Bess._ Marry, and you chose that to greet the Queen? - -_Fiddler._ It is for you to choose, my Lady. - -_Bess._ Go to, go to. Back to the kitchens with your fiddle. I will -choose later. [_Enter Master Crompe._] Crompe, Crompe, did you hear what -he said—the name of his tune? - -_Crompe._ Yes, my Lady. - -_Bess._ He is an impudent fellow, Crompe. - -_Crompe._ Innocent I trust, my Lady. - -_Bess._ There was a wink in his eye, Crompe. [_Stamps her foot._] “You -have a lodging in my heart”—forsooth!—“For which you pay no rent!” Mark -that, Crompe. It mislikes me much. He should play that to my Lord -Treasurer at Court. An’ the next letter gives no surety of that I will -no more tear down my tapestries to furnish a prison-house. - -_Crompe_ [_soothingly_]. My Lord has her Majesty’s promise in writing -that the furnishments shall be sent. And for the present we can make -shift. - -_Bess._ Well, well, time passes and nothing is finished. [_Seats herself -at the table._] Bring me the ink, good Crompe, that I may check the -appointments in the Scots Queen’s chambers. [_Crompe goes out._] Crompe, -Crompe, who has littered this room with this green stuff? - -_1st S.W._ I heard Mistress Elizabeth Cavendish command the branches to -be gathered for garlands. - -_Bess._ Garlands? - -_2nd S.W._ For the Queen’s welcome. - -_Bess._ Idleness and foolery. Garlands! [_Catches sight of her daughter -Elizabeth in the doorway._] Bet, why do you bring confusion into my -plans? - -_Elizabeth._ Lady mother, there were no flowers. I have sought in the -lanes, and there is no joy in them. And so I would twine the laurels and -ivy into chains and see the leaves shine in the firelight. - -_Bess_ [_sharply_]. No time for garlands. There will be chains enough -truly. Go, fetch me this green stuff away. Throw it out of the window, -Crompe. Bet, fetch your needle and mend me yonder cushion. [_Goes to -door and calls._] Mrs. Glasse! Wenches! [_Women come running. Mrs. -Glasse, the housekeeper, follows with a bundle of linen._] - -_Bess._ Listen to me, all of you. Here is my Lord’s tale of the things -which must be ready. As I read so do you answer, Mrs. Glasse. Thirty -pallets must be ready. - -_Mrs. Glasse._ Only twenty have mattresses, my Lady. - -_Bess._ Have you not five feather-beds, woman? - -_Mrs. G._ Only three, my Lady. The two others have been taken for the -captain of the soldiers that is coming. - -_Bess._ By whose order? - -_Mrs. G._ I know not. - -_Bess._ Take them away instantly and put instead the old mattress from -the old state-couch. The other five must make shift without mattresses. - -_Mrs. G._ My Lady, there are not pillows for more than fifteen beds. - -_Bess._ But yesterday I gave you out ten new ones. - -_Mrs. G._ We still lack fifteen, save your Ladyship will allow those of -chaff to be used. - -_Bess._ Use anything, all you can lay hands upon. Lord, Lord! all my -substance is swallowed, and still you cry “More pillows!” Beshrew me if -you do not eat pillows. Alice, are the ewers and basins in place? - -_Alice._ Yes, m’lady, though one is cracked and two were broken early -this morning by my Lord’s hound, which sprang through the window, so -that I dropped them in my fright. - -_Bess._ Lord! these people eat ewers as fast as pillows! Take away the -cracked one and put brass ewers for the other two. No, stay. Leave the -cracked one. They say this Queen’s folk have a crazy fancy for little -dogs and darlings. If we place them new pitchers, they will only break -those also. - -_Alice._ Little French dogs...? Oh, they will be sport! - -_Bess._ Hold thy idiot’s tongue. Pray Heaven they do not bring monkeys -also, like Lady Catherine Grey[14] when she went to the Tower. Kate, -where is the Queen’s coverlet? [_Girls bring it forward._] There is an -ugly darn in it. It shall be hidden with some gold lace. Fetch my Lord’s -old riding-cloak and rip the galloon quickly from it. Do not use the -broad, but the narrow. It will seem well enough. To work, to work! - - [_Re-enter Crompe._] - -_Crompe._ The cook and his fellows be ready, my Lady. - -_Bess._ Let him come. [_Enter a procession of kitchen men with dishes._] - -_Bess_ [_reading from the roll before her_]. A pair of capons stuffed -with chestnuts. - -_Cook._ The garnishing has yet to be done, my Lady. - -_Bess._ A brisket of pork. - -_Cook._ Boy—bring it round. - - [_A cook’s boy parades with the dish._] - -_Bess._ Six carp—these should be served hot. - -_Cook._ My Lady, they simmer slowly. - -_Bess_ [_reading_]. A roast of beef. - - [_Two boys parade it and pass on._] - -_Bess_ [_going on with the list, while the dishes are presented in -turn_.] - -Hare with little jellies. - -Plover trussed and stuffed. - -Wheaten cakes. - -A mess of furmity. - -A heron stewed. You dolts, this should be heated! - -_Cook._ My Lady, my Lady—the ovens will heat it again quickly. I brought -it hither that your Ladyship should taste the sauce. [_Presents a spoon. -Bess tastes._] - -_Bess._ I mislike the onion. And for a Queen, there is too much aniseed. -Mark that if the dish goes untouched. - -_Cook._ My Lady, they say this Queen will bring her own -tasting-gentleman. - -_Bess._ Surely, yes, surely. Who will she not bring? Her -tasting-gentleman to see she is not poisoned by you, Master Cook. -Swallow the insult and say your prayers and be sparing of your herbs in -future. You were always too set upon aniseed, and ’tis fit only for the -colic, to my thinking. Get on, get on with your dishes.... H’m! the -pasties ... here is only one of liver. I told Crompe to command two ... -two of liver and two of apples. [_The pasties are presented._] - -_Bess._ Fifty loaves. - -_Cook._ Thirty-eight are here. - -_Bess_ [_angrily_]. Always something lacking, it seems. A plague, you -fellows! Understand me, Cook, if the castle goes hungry you shall go -more hungry, and your purse still more. Briskets, sallets, eggs, -cheeses—where are they? Crompe, here—take you the bill, and if anything -lacks you know who shall first go supperless. Not the Queen, and not -your master and lady. Nor the Queen’s folk either. But you, Crompe—do -you hear me? You! - -_Crompe_ [_agitated_]. Yes, my Lady. Indeed, my Lady.... I have made -provision to your order ... for twenty persons. - -_Bess._ Twenty? And I have told you forty.... - -_Crompe._ Thirty beds said Mrs. Glasse. - -_Bess._ Mrs. Glasse knows nothing. Dare you scream ever to me of Mrs. -Glasse, Crompe? [_More quietly._] Listen, listen. The Queen brings five -gentlemen—hungry riding gentlemen; six gentlewomen—weary riding women. -God help us for their airs and graces, their wants and their want-nots! -And the gentlemen must have their men. God help us again! Three in -number these men. And the gentlewomen will bring two wives to wait on -them, and there will be fourteen servitors, three cooks. Crompe, cease -that arithmetic of your fingers, for it incenses me!—Four boys, ten -wenches and children—— - -_Crompe_ [_aghast, counting on his fingers behind his back_]. ’Tis -forty-eight without the children, my Lady. - -_Bess._ Well, well, can I not add two and two as well as you, Crompe? -Does it help me if you stand there with a mouth like a porringer? - -_Crompe._ But the children, my Lady! - -_Bess._ And the horses, Crompe! - -_Crompe._ Then there will be grooms also. - -_Bess._ Oil your wits, Crompe, and think of the grooms. Man alive! if -you stand in that spot the world will take you for a root of mandragora, -to be torn out, howling, by dogs! Stir, stir! Do somewhat, or, if you -cannot of yourself, remember you have a mistress, my good fool! -[_Rustles out into the corridor._] - -_Crompe_ [_aside_]. Who should ever forget it? - -_2nd S.W._ [_jumping up, points through the casement_]. See, there is -something. A boy runs ... ’tis a post. My Lady, my Lady. - - [_Re-enter Lady Shrewsbury._] - -_2nd S.W._ My Lady ... there is a fire lighted on that hill, and a boy -comes running. - -_Bess._ Then the Frenchwoman is upon us. For God’s sake leave your -stitching, and mend the rest with pins and nails as you best can! The -carpenter shall aid you. To the Queen’s bedchamber—quick, quick! -[_Drives them in front of her._] Crompe, you follow.... No—go to the -stables, the kitchens. Tell the men to bring more coals and bigger -logs.... [_Exeunt.... Her voice pursues the servants down the -corridors._] Pile high the fires! Higher! More logs! Have the torches -ready! Pile high the fires! - - - - - CHAPTER V - MAKE-BELIEVE - - -All the mighty fuss and preparation aforesaid sufficed only to make -Tutbury barely habitable. The airy, pleasant impressions of the French -Ambassador were literally castles in the air compared with the fastness -itself to which Mary of Scotland travelled. To begin with, her retinue -numbered sixty persons, and Heaven knows where they all slept that first -night. Mary’s own rooms were small enough, and she complained bitterly -of them and of the condition of the whole building. Here is her -description in a subsequent letter:— - - -“I am in a walled enclosure, on the top of a hill, exposed to all the -winds and inclemencies of heaven. Within the said enclosure, resembling -that of the wood of Vincennes, there is a very old hunting lodge, built -of timber and plaster, cracked in all parts, the plaster adhering -nowhere to the woodwork and broken in numberless places; the said lodge -distant three fathoms or thereabouts from the walls, and situated so low -that the rampart of earth which is behind the wall is on a level with -the highest point of the building, so that the sun can never shine upon -it on that side, nor any fresh air come to it; for which reason it is so -damp, that you cannot put any piece of furniture in that part without -its being in four days completely covered with mould. I leave you to -think how this must act upon the human body; and, in short, the greater -part of it is rather a dungeon for base and abject criminals than the -habitation fit for a person of my quality, or even of a much lower.... -The only apartments that I have for my own person consist—and for the -truth of this I can appeal to all those that have been here—of two -little rooms, so excessively cold, especially at night, that, but for -the ramparts and entrenchments of curtains and tapestry which I have had -made, it would not be possible for me to stay in them in the daytime; -and out of those who have sat up with me at night during my illnesses, -scarcely one has escaped without fluxion, cold, or some disorder.” - - -As for the gay hunting parties which had been anticipated, the only -exercise allowed her was in a palisaded vegetable patch called by -courtesy a garden. - -The first fortnight of that time must have placed a severe strain on the -temper and endurance of the autocratic chatelaine. She was not to have -access to the royal prisoner, she must obey the orders of her -gaoler-husband, himself constantly on tenter-hooks lest his cranky abode -should suffer sudden attack from Mary’s friends, lest sickness should -attack her, or quarrels be brewed between her motley household and his -own. My Lady Bess—for once—must keep herself well in the background and -still contrive provision for that big household. Doubtless it was she -who backed the Earl in his determination to secure at once an -understanding with the English Queen as to the household expenditure of -the prisoner. He put in a claim for £500 as a preliminary, and a weekly -allowance of £52 was arranged. Whether he received it remains to be -seen. Mary was not yet entirely a prisoner. That is to say she did not -realise herself as one. Her sister-queen was too crafty to permit that. -Shrewsbury, who found Mary calm and, at the outset, bearing household -inconveniences cheerfully—hopeful that they were but temporary—gave her -a little leash here and there. She evidently insisted on seeing Bess -Shrewsbury. “The Queen continueth daily resort unto my wife’s chamber, -where, with the Lady Leviston and Mrs. Seaton, she useth to sit working -with the needle, in which she much delighteth, and in devising of works; -and her talk is altogether of indifferent and trifling matters without -ministering any sign of secret dealing and practice.” So wrote my Lord -gaoler to reassure all at Court who might suspect him of insufficient -strictness. The fact is, a long and detailed letter to Sir William Cecil -from Nicholas White, the first visitor of importance who had spoken at -length with Mary at Tutbury, had sounded the alarm. “If I,” says this -gentleman, “might give advice there should be very few subjects in this -land have access to or conference with this lady. For, beside that she -is a goodly personage ... she hath withal an alluring grace, a pretty -Scottish accent, and a searching wit crowned with mildness. Fame might -move some to relieve her, and glory joined to gain might stir others to -adventure much for her sake. Then joy is a lively infective sense, and -carrieth many persuasions to the heart which ruleth all the rest. Mine -own affection by seeing the Queen’s majesty, our sovereign, is doubled, -and thereby I guess what sight might work in others.” This was the -impression she made on a young and gallant courtier loyal enough to -Elizabeth. Here, again, she is in the form of a veritable problem as -viewed by her first warder, Knollys, who delivered her into Shrewsbury’s -charge. Knollys also pours out his impressions to Cecil:— - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, from the picture at Hardwick - Hall - By permission of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire_ - - MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS -] - - -“This lady and princess is a notable woman; she seemeth to regard no -ceremonious honour beside the acknowledging of her estate regal; she -sheweth a disposition to speak much, to be bold, to be pleasant, and to -be very familiar. She sheweth a great desire to be avenged of her -enemies, she sheweth a readiness to expose herself to all perils in hope -of victory, she delighteth much to hear of hardiness and valiancy, -commending by name all approved hardy men of her country, although they -be her enemies, and she concealeth no cowardice even in her friends. The -thing that most she thirsteth after is victory, and it seemeth to be -indifferent to her to have her enemies diminished either by the sword of -her friends, or by the liberal promises and rewards of her purse, or by -division and quarrels raised among themselves: so that for victory’s -sake pain and peril seemeth pleasant unto her: and in respect of -victory, wealth and all things seemeth to her contemptible and vile. Now -what is to be done with such a lady and a princess, or whether such a -princess and lady to be nourished in one’s bosom? or whether it be good -to halt and dissemble with such a lady I refer to your judgment.” - - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS’ APARTMENTS AND DUNGEONS AT TUTBURY - - Page 66 -] - -It did not take Shrewsbury and his lady long to realise what they had -undertaken to nourish in their bosom. The great thing was to distract -her with light and little things. Of these she had sufficient at first -to prevent her from much brooding in the intervals of writing her vivid -and endless letters to France, to Scotland, to Burghley, and to the -English Queen. Gentleman visitors being practically taboo, there -remained only the Countess of Shrewsbury as a set-off from Mary’s own -ladies. These were few—Mrs. Bruce and Lady Livingston, who was ailing, -while of the “four Maries,” whose beauty and grace helped to weave the -romantic legend of the vanished Court at Holyrood, there remained in the -royal service but one, Mary Seton. Her Queen took a special interest in -her, and was very dependent on her. Mary Seton surely knew her mistress -through and through. Her post must at times have been one of great risk -and mental torture. She was constantly in personal attendance, dealing -with the Queen’s wardrobe and dressing her hair—for in this, history -says, she was as clever as any skilled perruquier. Mary at first -scarcely had a rag to cover her. Two bits of black velvet and some -darned underclothing had been doled out to her, by Elizabeth, on her -arrival in England. Much scorn and merriment they surely caused in the -Scotch Queen’s closet! Clothing to wrap her, hangings—that veritable -“rampart” of tapestries of which Mary spoke in the letter quoted—were -necessary for her existence, and she would have her environment gracious -and artistic even if the tapestries were of sacking. With the aid, no -doubt, of Bess the chatelaine, some appearance of regality was contrived -and maintained—so the letters of the day show—as best might be. The -Shrewsburys had no objection to that. Everyone entered apparently on the -surface into the little game of make-believe which “this Queen here” (as -she is constantly described in letters from the houses in which she was -immured) played throughout the fifteen years of her life under the -Earl’s roof. For Mary was ever an arch-romanticist. This sense of -romance constituted two-thirds of her attraction. Both Queens were -playing waiting games, but Mary was determined to play hers effectively -in spite of all conditions. And thus we have that vivid picture of her -pretence court carried on under the eye of Bess Shrewsbury. The Scots -Queen, seated on her dais under her canopy bearing the elusive legend -“En ma fin est mon commencement,” issued her orders touching her -household, received eagerly all scraps of news which filtered through to -her and any visitors that were permitted. But the more interesting part -was that of the Earl’s lady, who stood as the social barrier between the -outer world, so full of stirring incident, and the mock court indoors. -How much to tell her Scottish majesty and how little, what gossip to -retail and what to suppress, was no light task for a talkative, -energetic lady, who knew the ins and outs not only of the English Court -but the character of its mistress. Mary was always good company. -Elizabeth gave her subjects plenty to talk about. One wonders, in the -light of a certain letter which Mary afterwards wrote to the Queen, how -far[15] Bess Shrewsbury allowed her tongue at this juncture to trip out -of sheer vivacity and desire to please her prisoner-guest. Just now, -however, it is too early to imagine intrigue in this direction. The -women could safely discuss clothes and the new fashion of doing the -hair. Mary Seton was acknowledged to be the best “busker of hair in any -country,” “and every other day she had a new device of head-dressing, -without any cost, and yet setteth forth a woman gaily well.” Mary loved -her wigs, her headdresses, embroidery, her little pets, and the -contriving of presents of needlework. With these Bess could sympathise. -On occasion she wanted French silks, and when Mary wrote to France a -list of goods which she desired, she would send for a length of silk for -my Lady, and a friendly transaction took place between the two. Truly a -charming relationship! And all the time Mary was not too bored, for she -was writing love letters to her new suitor—the Duke of Norfolk. - -Let us take in the political situation for a moment. It was the spring -of 1569—just two years since the murder of Darnley, since when Mary had -the impression of a procession of violent events to wipe out of her -mind. Events since that horrible night had travelled at a wild speed. -Her abasement before Bothwell, her desperate game of bluff—that is to -say, her mad marriage with him, in spite of the opposition of all her -friends, while she yet wore her discreet mourning for the wretched -Darnley—her sudden awakening to bare realities, and the shock of the -knowledge that she had given herself wholly to a mere adventurer, and a -brutal one at that—these were some of the sinister facts over which, in -this solitude and stillness of her English life, she had time enough to -brood. Then came the final revelation of the almost wholesale perfidy of -her Scottish noblemen, and the three weeks of her ghastly third -honeymoon, which amounted to nothing but a preliminary imprisonment, -ending in the gross insults of the populace, which drove her distracted -on her way to the fortress of Lochleven. The detection and flight of -Bothwell, her Scottish imprisonment, her escape and her flight to -England—all these were part of the crimson pageant from which she had -emerged, shattered in body, soul-worn, to face the problem of her life. -Her baby boy was far from her in the hands of her brother and worst -enemy, Earl Moray, the traitor to whom the power of Elizabeth gave -approval as regent. But Moray himself had executed a _volte-face_. For -his own purposes he now assumed a highly moral and affectionate tone -towards his kinswoman. He advised this, her fourth marriage, on the -score that it was the best chance of wiping out the stigma which clung -to her in connection with her passion for Bothwell and her illegal union -with him. “Take a suitable and godly person to be your spouse and you -will at once assume a very high place in my excellent esteem” was -practically his attitude. Mary knew his power. Was not the villain in -constant intercourse with Cecil, Elizabeth’s right hand? She knew also -that marriage was the only way out of prison and back to her throne. -Three husbands had failed her. Even Moray conceded that she “had been -troubled in times past with children, young, proud fools, and furious -men”—the anæmic Francis II, Darnley, and Bothwell. As a woman she could -attract any man she chose. And the Duke of Norfolk was one of the -premier gentlemen of England, inclined to espouse her faith, and had -powerful friends among the nobles near the Border. The plan was -exciting. France and Spain must back her up in it. It was very difficult -to send and receive letters. No wonder that the strain of this secret, -with the bad weather and the difficulties under which the Tutbury -household laboured of securing sufficient provisions and sufficient fuel -to warm the cranky building, resulted in the illness of the prisoner. - -After much letter-writing there came from Court the permission for -removal for which the Earl and Mary longed. The household was to take up -its abode now at Wingfield Manor. Away went my Lady ahead to put up the -curtains and see to the carpets and pallets and other upholstery, and a -week or two later away went the cavalcade after her. Her chatelaine’s -art and dexterity had freer play here. Wingfield Manor, in its ruins, -suggests a house of grace, comfort, and importance, well proportioned, -and soundly built in a stately manner. Even Mary, aware of its tolerably -fortified nature, its guardroom and dungeons, its massive keep and -earthworks, conscious of the nightly sentinels under her windows, could -call it “a fair palace.” And my Lady was surely in her element. It was -not exactly the rich domestic peace, the family life for which she or -her husband had bargained. They were forced to isolate themselves from -their children to a great extent, lest the comings and goings connected -with their own family should entice strangers or messengers of doubtful -character. But the eyes of England were upon the Earl and his lady. -Where Mary was there abounded romance, intrigue, and mystery. Spain, -France, Scotland, all were watchful, waiting for the least news. And -possibly the Queen’s command and the distinction conferred on the -Shrewsburys carried them far along the painful task on which they had -embarked. There is no doubt that Bess had a better time of it in the -bargain than her lord. The ultimate responsibility was his. Moreover, -his was a nature conscientious almost to a morbid degree. He was forced -to receive attacks without and within and to keep his head cool. He must -report himself in long letters to Mr. Treasurer, he must bear with the -complaints and entreaties of his captive. Mary was not so much of a -prisoner that she could not rush to his suite of rooms and upbraid the -authority by which her Scottish messengers were detained and her letters -examined. Her abuse and lamentation, defiance and tears were shared -alike by husband and wife. In reporting all this in detail to the Court, -he insists upon the necessity of his wife’s co-operation. In the same -breath he makes it piteously clear that the matter is not one for -diversion or satisfaction to either of them. In this picture he draws of -their joint life in such letters, Tutbury or Wingfield shelters not one -prisoner, but three. The royal lady is scarcely a moment out of their -sight or hearing. The only advantage of her constant invasion of my -Lady’s chamber is that the latter may watch her the more closely and -report more minutely upon her looks and words. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Valentine and Sons, Dundee_ - - THE RUINS OF WINGFIELD MANOR - - Page 70 -] - -Already by this time the Shrewsburys could enter into the feelings of -Sir Francis Knollys when he longed to shake off his irksome duties. Had -the Earl foreseen the extent of the burden thrust upon him he would have -followed the example of his comrade-in-arms and begged for instant -release. All he could and did do, however, was to endure, while -protesting his loyalty. - -There was excitement enough in store for everyone when Mary’s adviser, -the Bishop of Ross, was actually permitted to join the Wingfield -household. This was the signal for the crowding of Scottish folk to the -vicinity. These came constantly to pay their court to Mary, thereby -increasing all the domestic complications of Earl and lady, to say -nothing of the added cost in catering and stabling entailed by such -“traffic.” Nor did it help them that Mary should fall ill. After delays -two physicians were sent from Court, and besides insisting upon a -thorough ventilation and cleaning of her apartments they advised her -removal to yet another of the family mansions. - -This time it was to Chatsworth that the cavalcade travelled. The busy -Countess had not yet completed her great scheme of building. Yet a part -of the then “new house” was sufficiently completed for use, and though -there was as yet no stately presence chamber here, nor ballroom, nor -great dining-hall, as at Wingfield, the surroundings were sylvan and -reassuring, and the little raised and moated garden where Mary would -take the air was far more agreeable than the tangled garden patch at -Tutbury. In May the change to the meadows by the Derwent must have been -delicious. By June 1st the visit was ended and away went the cortège -again, my Lady Bess included, back to Wingfield. The Earl, for the first -time since Mary’s arrival, took a few days’ leave of absence and again -went to Chatsworth. This brief absence immediately gave rise to trouble -and suspicious reports. While struggling with indisposition he hurried -back, and had just time to report that all was well at Wingfield when -ague and fever laid him low. His wife took command of the situation. His -condition was so critical that she wrote to Cecil asking that some -arrangement “for this charge” should be made in case he should grow -worse. Cecil took action at once, but before any change in the command -at Wingfield could be made the Earl was recovering, and his wife wrote -to reassure the Queen, through Cecil, and put in a word for her own -loyalty:— - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS BOWER, CHATSWORTH - - Page 72 -] - - -“Of my duty in all respects, God, that is my witness of my doings and -meanings, will defend me, I trust, against the evil that malice would -unto me. No enemy would I willingly refuse to be my judge in this case, -that hath power to think and speak truly, but most heartily do I thank -you for your right friendly admonition, knowing that I cannot too much -remember my duty, like as I would be no less sorry if I were not -persuaded that you did write only of good will, without all cause of -suspicion. I have hitherto found you to be my singular good friend, and -so I trust you will continue, which God grant I may requite to my -desire.” - - -Poor Shrewsbury did not recover quickly. He suffered mentally as much as -bodily all through this summer of 1569, and begged a few days’ grace to -visit the baths at Buxton. This was withheld and delayed, and, in -despair, he went without permission. Immediately the Queen was told of -it and instructed Burghley to pounce on him in a letter. Naturally he -hurried home full of abject apology, and, though he found the household -at Wingfield tranquil, was much annoyed at the insanitary state of the -manor in consequence of the number of people in and about it. A little -crowd of no less than two hundred and fifty persons now constituted the -entourage of prisoner, Earl, and Countess. In order to wipe off all -undesirables, he recommended another change of domicile—this time to his -estate of Sheffield. - -The Earl possessed two manors here—the Lodge or Manor on the hill, and -the Castle in the valley above the meadows—now built over—where the Dun -and Sheaf joined their waters. This move was regarded as a most -excellent method for change and expansion. Both houses were habitable, -there was good fishing, and plenty of ground for exercise without going -out of bounds. Nothing was lacking now to hasten the departure save the -royal permission. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT - - -The move to Sheffield was now abandoned because of the desperate -excitement aroused in Elizabeth’s mind by the disclosure of the love -affair which was brewing between Mary and the Duke of Norfolk. This -matter for some time was not entirely a secret. A certain number of -influential English nobles agreed with those of Scotland that such a -marriage would be an excellent solution of the entire Scottish question. -Even Leicester himself, adored of Elizabeth, joined his opinion to -theirs. And these gentlemen had drawn up a proposal to Mary of which one -clause runs, “Whether, touching her marriage with the Duke of Norfolk -which had been moved to her by the Earl of Moray and Lidington, she -would wholly refer herself to the Queen’s Majesty and therein do as she -would have her and as her Majesty did like thereof—willing that all -things should be done for her Majesty’s surety, which might be best -advised by the whole Council.” - -Her reply to this document, especially to the clause quoted, was clear, -dignified, and highly emphatic. She did not doubt the English Queen’s -good faith, nor the friendship of her nobles, nor the goodwill and -liking of the Duke. She adroitly declared that she never regarded -marriage as a mere means to recover power and position, saying, “I -assure you that if either men or money to have reduced my rebels to -their due obedience could have ticed me I could have been provided of a -husband ere now. But I ... did never give ear to any such offer.” She -fully calculated what she would lose by this marriage in regard to all -her “friends beyond the seas.” The Duke of Alva was trying to secure her -co-operation in the invasion of England. She was coquetting with the -Duke of Anjou. She was writing to Rome. By the document she had signed -she laid aside all future schemes, while she could still nourish the -secret hope that, once restored to the Scottish throne in place of her -baby son, she would, in default of Elizabeth’s marriage, inherit the -throne of England. The whole matter was now on such a broad and amicable -footing that apparently nothing was wanting but the longed-for “Bless -you, my children” from the lips of Elizabeth. - -By September this dream was rudely dispelled. Norfolk was summoned to -Court, roundly abused—Elizabeth, as one of her courtiers writes of her, -could “storme passinglie”—and poor Shrewsbury received a severe snub. -The Queen practically declared him a useless gaoler: “I have found no -reliance on my Lord Shrewsbury in the hour of my need, for all the fine -speeches he made me formerly, yet I can in no wise depend on his -promise.” Therefore she added two guards—the Earl of Huntingdon and -Viscount Hereford. - -More household complications, more goings and comings, more trouble for -Earl and Countess! Afflicted with chronic gout and irritated in every -direction, Shrewsbury decided to make for Tutbury again. A tactless -royal order addressed to Huntingdon (whom Mary also hated) over the head -of Shrewsbury bred fresh discomfort and annoyance in the Castle. Things -were, however, gradually smoothed over. The jealousy between Mary’s -gaolers was allayed on the one hand by the news that the Queen’s -apprehensions were justified by the disappearance of the Duke of Norfolk -from Court, while the alarm of Mary was increased fourfold by the -cross-questioning to which she was subjected and the news of the sudden -arrest of her ducal lover. - -These were dramatic days which Bess of Shrewsbury witnessed. Letters -were intercepted, coffers suddenly searched in the Scots Queen’s -apartments, there were incursions of men with “pistolets,” constant -dismissals of the Queen’s people, sudden dismissal, even, of the -Countess’s own servants. But the gaps at the board were immediately -filled by Huntingdon and his retinue, for whom the Shrewsburys were -expected to provide without any increase of allowance, on the score that -the present numbers of the household did not exceed those at Wingfield -and elsewhere. The irony of this, added to the suggestions that the Earl -had been too kind to his prisoner, and that his request to be allowed to -deal as before with Mary without the assistance of any other officer, -sprang from some person or persons “too much affectionated to her,” -created havoc in Shrewsbury’s mind. Of course he visited his anger on -his colleague Huntingdon in the form of morose hints. In that atmosphere -of wholesale suspicion he could not speak out except in a letter to -head-quarters. He knew that Elizabeth’s sinister expressions implied -suspicions of his Countess. It is difficult to understand exactly what -this lady was “after,” in the vulgar phrase, at this moment. For Mary, -with whom she had hitherto been on excellent terms, now distrusted her -also. She expressed this distrust _tout au plat_, as she would say, to -Walsingham in October, and told him not to attach any credit “to the -schemes and accusations of the Countess who is now with you.” Apparently -my Lady had left for the Court, and was there making good her case and -her husband’s. As likely as not she was furiously jealous of the -authority wrested from her husband in favour of Huntingdon, and -overwrought, like everyone else, by the acute tension of the situation. -Henceforward in the correspondence with Cecil sturdy disclaimers of -treason on the part of Earl and lady are always cropping up. The -following is from Shrewsbury to Cecil, October, 1569:— - - -“Sir,—I have received your letter, thinking myself beholden unto you for -your friendly care over me. I hear to my grief that suspicion is had of -over much goodwill borne by my wife to this Queen and of untrue dealing -by my men. For my wife thus must I say, she hath not otherwise dealt -with that Queen than I have been privy unto and that I have had liking -of, and by my appointment hath so dealt that I have been the more able -to discharge the trust committed unto me. And if she for her dutiful -dealing to her Majesty and true meaning to me should be suspected that I -am sure hath so well deserved, she and I might think ourselves -fortunate. And where I perceive her Majesty is let to understand that by -my wife’s persuasion I am the more desirous to continue this charge, I -speak it afore God she hath been in hand with me as far as she durst and -more than I thought well of since my sickness to procure my discharge. I -am not to ...[16] by her otherwise than I think well of.” - - -From the close of this year till the execution of the Duke of Norfolk in -1572 the history of George Talbot and Bess Hardwick is bound up with the -story of the tissue of conspiracies which wound itself about Mary. The -Norfolk plot, with which Mary was to be drawn out of prison, was a stout -rope woven of many strands; the net which Cecil constructed for his prey -was close-meshed and wide-spreading. There were constant alarums and -excursions for the Earl and his people. He succeeded in getting rid of -Huntingdon, but he was incessantly in fear of a rising of the northern -nobles to whom Norfolk had appealed for their armed support; and when -this fear was realised and the armed Earls arrived within fifty odd -miles of Tutbury a hasty removal was necessary. Coventry was the only -place which suggested itself until the hostile demonstration fizzled out -and Tutbury could be regained. - -The new year found the household re-established there. While Mary, in -poor health, acted as though she had no inkling of conspiracy, while the -Duke of Norfolk and the Bishop of Ross, her adviser, were in the Tower, -miniature plots again disturbed the tenor of existence, and for once the -Earl was permitted to choose his own road, and to remove his captive -with bag and baggage to Chatsworth. - -This was a pleasanter place than Tutbury for the inditing of love -letters, as Mary found. But her Duke was a broken reed. He wanted to -leave the Tower, and to Elizabeth he vowed he would not marry her rival. -The summer passed on and the conditions of imprisonment at Chatsworth -fluctuated from “straitness” to indulgence according to the suspicions -of Elizabeth and the reports of those who were jealous spies of the -Earl’s slightest actions. Things assumed a more hopeful aspect in spite -of the discovery of another minor plot to free Mary by letting her down -from one of the windows of the Countess’s spacious and elegant -house—still unfinished. Elizabeth about this time actually contemplated -Mary’s freedom and her re-establishment as a sovereign; whereupon a -treaty to this end was carefully discussed! - -Negotiations came to such a pass that Mr. Treasurer himself was -empowered to travel to Chatsworth and confer with the prisoner. He took -his wife with him, and between business and pleasure the visit passed -off well. Cecil wrote a long and complimentary “leaving letter” on -behalf of himself and his wife, chiefly interesting in this connection -because it indicates how Lady Shrewsbury played her part as hostess. - - -“We have fully satisfied her Majesty with the painful and trusty -behaviour of my Lady your wife in giving good regard to the surety of -the said Queen; wherein her Majesty surely seemed to us to be very glad, -and used many good words, both of your Lordship’s fidelity towards -herself, and of the love that she thought my Lady did bear to her.... -And thus I humbly take my leave of your Lordship and my Lady, to whom my -wife hath written to give her thanks for certain tokens whereof I -understood nothing afore she told me of them; and sorry I am my Lady -should have bestowed such things as my wife cannot recompense as she -would, but with her hearty goodwill and service, which shall always be -ready to her favour and mine also: assuring yourself that to my -uttermost I will be to your Lordship and to my Lady as sure in good will -as any poor friend you have.” - - -[Illustration: - - _From an engraving by W. T. Ryall, after the painting by Mark Gerard_ - - WILLIAM CECIL, LORD BURGHLEY - - Page 80 -] - -Like all the schemes of Elizabeth the aforesaid treaty hung fire. -Suspense and disappointment had their usual result upon Mary. Once more -she fell ill. Had she died on their hands Earl and Countess would have -been open to the worst suspicions. They found themselves always out of -pocket in regard to her maintenance; they were themselves, obviously, -more or less prisoners in their own house; they had begged to be -released from “this charge.” In an age when poisonings were rife and -assassinations common they would have been suspected by all parties of -all sorts of foul play. Mary’s loyal gentleman, John Beton, the -prægustator, must have had enough to do at this time in tasting the -dishes for the daily menus. Shrewsbury meanwhile kept a sharp look-out -and at once suggested change of air. Mary, in spite of the pain in her -side, symptom of a chronic malady, and one which always attacked her -when she was the least out of health, was only too ready to move. This -time the destination was Sheffield—the castle. - -Matters grew worse and worse in regard to the captive in spite of all -these precautions. Down came the Bishop of Ross—now set at liberty—and -the Court physician, while all the world knew that for this illness -there was but one cure—liberty. Only intrigue kept Mary alive at the -close of 1570. The rest of the spring and summer of 1571 witnessed her -return to the proposals to the Duke of Norfolk, the co-operation of -Ridolfi, the preparations by her Scottish partisans, the crystallisation -of the plan of invasion by Philip of Spain. The whole toil of this great -enterprise was nullified by the curiosity of a mere merchant, an -innocent messenger chosen to carry a bag of money destined to further -the plot. He mistrusted the contents, carried the bag to head-quarters, -and inside were the incriminating letters which led to the second -imprisonment of Norfolk and the gradual unravelling of the conspiracy. -During the lengthy process of examining the many people involved there -were uneasy moments for all sorts and conditions of men. It was a most -uncomfortable time for the Shrewsburys. It was open to any of their -dismissed servants who were arrested to inculpate their former -employers, and the latter were probably prepared for such contingencies. -Yet a letter like the following would descend upon the Countess somewhat -like a bombshell. The man Lascelles mentioned in it was an ex-servant -under arrest, and when threatened with torture pleaded guilty to the -charge, giving as excuse that what he did was known to the Countess. - - - “It may please your Ladyship, - -“Where of late Bryan and Hersey Lascelles having been before my Lords of -her Majesty’s Council, it appeareth directly by the letters both of the -Queen of Scots and of the Duke of Norfolk also, that Hersey, as he -confessess also himself has been a dealer sometimes with the Queen there -by the means of his brother’s being in service there; and yet that his -dealing was not without knowledge of your Ladyship, to the end, as he -says, that the same might always be known. I have thought good to -advertise your Ladyship thereof, and withal to pray you to let me -understand the truth of such matter as your Ladyship doth know of the -said Hersey Lascelles’ dealings from time to time as particularly as -your Ladyship can remember. And so I take my leave of your Ladyship. - -“From London, the 13th of October, 1571. - - “Your Ladyship’s at commandment, - “W. BURGHLEY. - -“To the right honourable and my very good Lady, the Countess of -Shrewsbury. Haste, haste, haste.” - - -A nice letter to receive on a serene autumn day! Carefully worded and -dignified though it is, it opens up vistas of suspicion and treachery. -The Countess was away, and her lord had to bear the first brunt of it -alone. Perhaps this was just as well, as it gave him a chance of -clearing their honour independently. For, of course, he recognised in it -an urgent official document. The reading must have cost him a bad -quarter of an hour. There was no time to be lost in again asserting his -wife’s integrity. A few seconds of miserable suspense would possibly -ensue ere his trust and loyalty conquered all fears, and he sat down to -write first to his wife, enclosing the letter from Court, and then to -tell Burleigh that some serious misconstruction must have been placed on -the fact that he always empowered his lady to interest herself in such -persons as Lascelles and his doings, the better to keep her spouse -apprised of Mary’s plots: “I willed my wife to deal with him and others -to whom the Queen bears familiar countenance, so as the better to learn -her intentions.” To this he adds a diplomatic postscript, assuring -Burleigh that this letter is penned independently of any collusion with -his wife. - -The Countess, fenced in by consciousness of innocence, backed by the -sense of possession, and seated in the heart of her own pleasant estate, -rich now in the burnished glory of autumn, writes _en grande dame_ from -Chatsworth on October 22nd:— - - -“Your letters touching Henry Lassells came to my hands after my husband -had answered them. I doubt not you are persuaded of my dutiful service, -but lest you should think any lack of goodwill to answer, I thought it -meet to advertise you of my whole doings in the matters. - -“As soon as I had intelligence that this Lassells had some familiar talk -with the Queen of Scotland, and that my Lord thereupon had laid watch to -his doings, this Lassells belike suspecting of my knowledge thereof, -desired that he might offer unto me some special matter touching that -Queen, with great desire that I should in no wise utter it, for, saith -he, she hath most earnestly warned me not to tell you of all creatures. -I then hoping to hear of some practice, answered him that he might -assure himself not only to be harmless, but to be well rewarded also at -the Queen Majesty’s hands, and of my Lord, if he would plainly and truly -show of her doings and devices, meet to be known. Then he told me with -many words that she pretended great goodwill unto him, and of good -liking of him, and that she would make him a lord, but, saith he, I will -never be false to the Queen’s Majesty, nor to my Lord, my master. -Further than this I could not learn of him. Then I warned him to -remember his duty and to beware of her, and that she sought to abuse -him, and that I knew for certain that she did hate him. He said then -that he would take heed, and advertise me of all that he could learn. -After this he came to me again, and told me of her familiar talk as -before, and of no further matter, saving that he said that he told her -how he marvelled that she could love the Duke,[17] having so foul a -face, and that she answered that she could like him well enough, because -he was wise. Then I warned him again more earnestly than I did before, -and told him of her hatred towards him. Then he seemed to credit me. -Albeit a while after he desired me by his letters to certify him how I -knew she hated him, for, saith he, if she so do she is the falsest woman -living. Then my Lord and I perceiving his mind so fondly occupied on her -and knowing him to be both vain and glorious, and that he was more like -to be made an instrument to work harm than to do good, my Lord -despatched him out of service, as he hath divers others upon suspicion -at sundry times. This came to my knowledge about Candlemas, next after -the Northern rebellion, and he was put away about Easter following. I -never knew of any dealing between the Queen and the Duke of Norfolk, -either by Lassells or anyone else. If I had I trust you think I would -have discovered it.” - - -It is not surprising that the Earl’s wife kept aloof for a while and -preferred Chatsworth just now. Sheffield was a regular dungeon: the -Scottish Queen was only allowed to take an airing on the leads. No -domestic cheerfulness was possible, no social intercourse, and every -letter sent or received was a source of anxiety. - -Both for the sake of social decency and because of the necessity to -impress the always scandalous world with her conjugal devotion, the -Countess however returned presently to the fortress and took up her -share of the daily burden of wardenship. - -Her presence was more than ever necessary now. The Duke of Norfolk’s -trial was fixed for a date early in the New Year, and the Earl’s -assistance thereat was indispensable, for he was made Lord High Steward -of England in the place of the arraigned nobleman. The command at -Sheffield was therefore temporarily assigned, not to Huntingdon this -time, but to Sir Ralph Sadler. He arrived, the Earl left for London, and -Bess Shrewsbury remained to keep a hand upon the situation and play her -own cards. She did this incessantly till her husband’s return. -Circumstances gave her most excellent opportunities for making a good -impression on Sadler. It was her business to walk on those leads of the -now vanished castle with the prisoner and to carry her daily such news -as it was considered well to communicate. There was very little variety -in the days. When the weather was bad Mary kept to her rooms. When it -improved she took her airing, but had not much refreshment for her eyes. -There was little to do on the leads but stroll to and fro, gazing at -Sheffield Lodge on the hill, or at the water and meadows below. And for -the ear there was nothing beyond music on the virginals to charm it, no -sounds to distract the country silence, except the opening and closing -of the castle gates, and the roll of the drum at six o’clock morning and -evening, when the watches were set and the password given. - -[Illustration: - - _From the picture in the possession of the Duke of Norfolk_ - - THOMAS HOWARD, DUKE OF NORFOLK - - Page 86 -] - -To all who are students of the latter years of Mary’s life the letters -of Sir Ralph Sadler, written during this time, must be familiar. His -whole attention is naturally concentrated on the interesting captive, -but here and there we get side glimpses of Lady Shrewsbury and her power -as a kind of self-ordained lady of the bedchamber to Mary. - -The news of Norfolk’s death sentence was not long in coming. The Earl of -Shrewsbury himself had to pronounce it with true and bitter tears, and -Cecil, now Lord Burghley, at once wrote to Sheffield. A fact so -important must be communicated to Mary at once. It was due to her both -as Norfolk’s accomplice and as a prisoner of quality. It was highly -important that the effect of it on her should be gauged and duly -reported. For this sweet errand the Countess was chosen. A previous -announcement had, however, reached her, and took the wind out of the -Countess’s sails. What a situation! She found the Queen “all bewept and -mourning,” and had the doubtful taste to ask “what ailed her.” Mary, -with great dignity and pathos, replied that she was sure that the -Countess must already know the cause and would sympathise, and she -expressed further her intense grief lest anything she had written to -Elizabeth on behalf of Norfolk had brought him and her other friends to -such a pass. The Countess had common sense, and her rejoinder was -logical and undoubtedly correct, but she need not have hit quite so hard -as in her reply, quoted by Sadler. For a woman of imagination—and -imagination of a practical kind Bess Shrewsbury certainly possessed—it -was a cruel answer, and not the least part of the cruelty was the -scathing condemnation of one who she knew might have been Mary’s -husband. It seems to have crushed Mary. She could bear no further -discussion of the matter, and withdrew into herself to nurse her sorrow. -“And so like a true lover she remaineth, still mourning for her love,” -wrote Sadler, much touched by her attitude. This letter of his is -graphic enough to be quoted in full:— - - - “Please it, your Lordship, - -“The posts whether they work or play have their hire, and therefore I -spare not their labour though I have none other occasion than to -advertise your L. that all is well here concerning this charge, and that -yesterday I received your letters of the 17th of this present (for which -I most heartily thank your L.), together with a brief discourse of the -Duke’s arraignment and condemnation, which I forthwith imparted unto my -Lady of Shrewsbury to the end she might take occasion to make this Queen -understand of the same; and also I gave it out to the gentlemen in this -House both what number of the Nobility did pass upon his trial, and also -that his offences and treasons were such, and so manifestly and plainly -proved, that all the noble men did not only detest the same, but also -without any manner of scruple objected by common consent everyone of -them did pronounce him guilty. Which, being put abroad here in the house -after this sort, was brought unto the knowledge of this Queen by some of -her folk which heard it, before my Lady came unto her, for the which -this Queen wept very bitterly, so that my Lady found her all to be wept -and mourning, and asking her what she ailed, she answered that she was -sure my Lady could not be ignorant of the cause, and that she could not -but be much grieved, to understand of the trouble of her friends, which -she knew did fare the worse for her sake, for sure she was that the Duke -fared the worse for that which she of late had written to the Q. -Majesty; and said further that he was unjustly condemned, protesting -that as far as ever she could perceive by him or for anything she knew -he was a true man to the Queen her sister: but being answered by my Lady -that as she might be sure that whatsoever she had written to the Q. -Majesty could do the Duke neither good nor harm touching his -condemnation, so if his offences and treasons had not been great and -plainly proved against him those noble men which passed upon his trial -would not for all the good on earth have condemned him. She thereupon -with mourning there became silent, and had no will to talk any more of -the matter, and so like a true lover she remaineth still mourning for -her love. God, I trust, will put it into the Queen Majesty’s heart so to -provide for herself that such true lovers may receive such rewards and -fruits of their love as they have justly deserved at her Majesty’s -hands. - -“All the last week this Queen did not once look out of her chamber, -hearing that the Duke stood upon his arraignment and trial, and being -troubled by all likelihood by a guilty conscience and fear to hear of -such news as she hath now received. And my presence is such a trouble -unto her that unless she come out of her chamber I come little at her, -but my Lady is seldom from her, and for my part I have not since my -coming hither so behaved myself towards her as might justly give her -occasion to have any such misliking of me: though indeed I would not -rejoice at all of it, if she had any better liking. But though she like -not of me yet I am sure this good lady and all the gentlemen and others -of this house do like well enough of me: which doth well appear by their -courteous and gentle entertainment of me and mine. My Lord hath a costly -guest of me, for I and my men and 36 horses of mine do all lie and feed -here at his charge, and therefore the sooner he come home the better for -him. Trusting his L. be now on the way and therefore I forbear to write -to him. But if he be there, it may please you to tell him that all is -well here, and that my Lady and I do long to see his L. here. And as I -doubt not she would most gladly have him here, so I am sure she cannot -long for him more than I do, looking hourly to hear some good news from -your L. of my return. And so I beseech Almighty God to preserve and keep -you in long life and health, and to increase you in honour and virtue. -From Sheffield Castle the 21st of January at night 1571. With the rude -hands of - - “Your L. to command as your own - “R. SADLER. - - “To the right honourable and my very good lord, my Lord of Burghley, - of the Queen Majesty’s Privy Council.” - - -[Illustration: - - _From a print in the British Museum_ - - SHEFFIELD MANOR HOUSE - - Page 90 -] - -Never was the contrast between the two principal ladies in Sheffield -Castle so marked as at this moment. Mary mourns for Norfolk, for the -ruin of her hopes, for the treaty of freedom which now can never be -carried through. Bess sails about the castle aware of everything at -Court and at home; the posts bring her affectionate letters from the -Earl, while her children and his flourish under their respective tutors. -Chatsworth is still a-building, and she signs orders for stone and wood -and coal and fodder. She was a good hostess to Sadler, and when he -relinquished his duties gladly enough in February, upon the Earl’s -return, he was positive that Lady Shrewsbury was deserving of great -commendation and “condign thanks” for the manner in which she filled her -important position. She was very much of a personage, and her -correspondence exhibits very few of the traits usually described as -“feminine,” while her friends fully estimated her influence and her -interest in the larger events. The following lengthy letter gives the -complexity of the political situation, and though of course it belongs -to a date previous to the execution of Norfolk, is placed here as an -illustration of the stirring times in which the great lady lived and the -events which had happened during the first year or two of her fourth -marriage. It is unsigned, and is evidently from some connection or -possibly a gentleman of the Shrewsbury household, who is keeping his -ears and eyes wide open at Court:— - - - “To the Countess of Shrewsbury, - -“My most humble duty remembered unto your honourable good lord. May it -please the same to understand that I have sent you herein enclosed the -articles of peace concluded and proclaimed through all France, in -French, because they are not at this hour to be had in English (which -are translated and in printing), and if the peace be kept, the -Protestants be indifferently well. The great sitting is done at Norwich; -and, as I do hear credibly, that Appleyard, Throgmorton, Redman, and -another are condemned to be hung, drawn, and quartered; and Hobart and -two more are condemned to perpetual imprisonment, with the loss of all -their goods and lands during their lives. The four condemned for high -treason, and the other for reconcilement. They were charged of these -four points: the destruction of the Queen’s person; the imprisonment of -my Lord Keeper, my Lord of Leicester, Secretary Cecil; the setting at -liberty out of the Tower the Duke of Norfolk; and the banishment of all -strangers; and it fell out in their examination that they would have -imprisoned Sir Christopher Haydon and Sir William Butts, the Queen’s -Lieutenants. None of them could excuse themselves of any of the four -points, saving Appleyard said he meant nothing towards the Queen’s -person; for that he meant to have had them to a banquet, and to have -betrayed them all, and to have won credit thereby with the Queen. -Throgmorton was mute, and would say nothing till he was condemned, who -then said, ‘They are full merry now that will be as sorry within these -few days.’ Mr. Bell was attorney for Mr. Gerrard, he being one of the -Judges, and Mr. Bell alleged against Appleyard that he was consenting to -the treason before; alleging one Parker’s words, that was brought -prisoner with Dr. Storey out of Flanders, that Parker heard of the -treason before Nallard came over to the Duke of Alva. And there stood -one Bacon by that heard Parker say so: my Lord offered a book to Bacon -for to swear: ‘O, my Lord,’ said Appleyard, ‘will you condemn me of his -oath that is registered for a knave in the Book of Martyrs?’ - -“They had set out a proclamation, and had four prophecies; one was -touching the wantonness of the Court, and the other touching this land -to be conquered by the Scots; and two more that I cannot remember. There -were many in trouble for speaking of seditious words. Thomas Cecil said -that the Duke of Norfolk was not of that religion as he was accounted to -be: and that his cousin Cecil was the Queen’s darling, who was the cause -of the Duke of Norfolk’s imprisonment, with such like; who is put off to -the next assize. Anthony Middleton said, ‘My Lord Morley is gone to set -the Duke of Alva into Yarmouth, and if William Keat had not accused me, -Throgmorton, and the rest we had had a hot harvest; but if the Duke of -Norfolk be alive, they all dare not put them to death.’ Metcalf said -that he would help the Duke of Alva into Yarmouth, and to wash his hands -in the Protestants’ blood. Marsham said that my Lord of Leicester had -two children by the Queen: and for that he is condemned to lose both his -ears, or else pay £100 presently. Chiplain said he hoped to see the Duke -of Norfolk to be King before Michaelmas next, who doth interpret that he -meant, not to be King of England, but to be King of Scotland. - -“Mr. Bell and Mr. Solicitor said both to this effect to the -prisoners—‘What mad fellows were ye, being all rank Papists, to make the -Duke of Norfolk your patron that is as good a Protestant as any is in -England: and, being wicked traitors, to hope of his help to your wicked -intents and purposes, that is as true and as faithful a subject as any -that is in this land, saving only that the Queen is minded to imprison -him for his contempt.’ Doctor Storey is at Mr. Archdeacon Watts’ house, -in custody, besides Powels. Thurlby, late Bishop of Ely, died this last -week at Lambeth. - -“The Spanish Queen is arrived in the Low Countries, and will embark as -soon as may be. The Emperor is setting forward his other daughter -towards Metz to be married to the French King. It is written, by letters -of the 28th of the last, from Venice, that the Turk has landed in Cyprus -100,000 men, or more, and has besieged two great cities within that -kingdom, Nicocia and Famagosta. At one assault at Famagosta they lost -12,000 men; upon the which repulse the Begler Bey of Natolia, the -General of the Turk’s army, wrote to the great Turk, his master, that he -thought it was invincible. He answered that, if they did not win it -before they came, they should be put to the sword at their return home. -The Turk has sent another army by land against the Venetians, into -Dalmatia, and are besieging Zara with 20,000 footmen and 20,000 -horsemen, and divers towns they have taken, as Spalator, Elisa, Eleba, -and Nona, with great spoil and bloodshed: and it is written that the -Turk’s several armies are above 200,000 men against the Venetians. The -men first sent by the Venetians fell so into diseases by the way as they -were fain to prepare new men, which is thought will hardly come to do -any good in Cyprus. A man may see what account is to be made of these -worldly things, as to see in a small time the third state of -Christendom, in security, power, and wealth, to be in danger of utter -overthrow in one year. - -“They say my Lord of Leicester hath many workmen at Kenilworth to make -his house strong, and doth furnish it with armour, ammunition, and all -necessaries for defence. And thus Jesus have my Lord, and your Ladyship, -and my friends in his tuition, to God’s pleasure.—Scribbled at London, -the last of August, 1570. - -“Your good Ladyship’s ever to command during life. - - “To the right honourable Countess of Shrewsbury - at Chatsworth, or where.” - - -Life fell once more into its old groove. No large conspiracy could be -feared yet, in spite of Elizabeth’s postponement of Norfolk’s execution. -But there remained always the undercurrent of lesser “practices.” Earl -and Lady had their hands always full with detective work of this kind. -Priests and conjurers, pedlars, porters, and even schoolmasters formed -the roll of suspects. Scouts were always at work following their -movements, hanging about taverns to hear gossip which might betray their -doings, and searchers were employed to pounce upon any scrap of written -stuff which might prove valuable “copy.” Some of the most emphatic -witnesses against Mary—her own letters of conspiracy—were actually found -hidden under a stone on a bit of waste ground. The messenger charged -with them durst not carry them further at that moment and before he -could remove them they were discovered. It was about this time that she -was given permission to take her airing further than the leads and to -walk out in the open. The snow lay on the ground and soaked her to the -ankles, but she bore it cheerfully, and one wonders if she had knowledge -of those hidden letters and whether she nourished a wild hope of finding -them in their niche and setting them safely on their way. Secret and -sinister were the warnings which Earl and Lady shared in that long cold -spring at Sheffield. All travellers from across the Border were duly -catalogued by the northern authorities and word passed from mouth to -mouth of their appearance and activities. This was the sort of despatch -which reached the castle: “A certain boy should come lately out of -England with letters to the castle of Edinburgh and is to return back -again within three or four days.... It were not amiss that my Lord of -Shrewsbury had warning of him. His letters be secured in the buttons and -seams of his coat. His coat is of black English frieze, he hath a cut on -his left cheek, from his eye down, by the which he may be well known.” - -All the dodges of such envoys—from the stitching of letters into linings -and the hiding of a written message under the setting of a jewel to the -use of bags with double bottoms where despatches could be kept “safe -from wet and fretting” and sight—were known to the Shrewsburys. An -evening spent in the kitchens and guardroom, an hour or so of conference -with my Lady would open to reader and writer alike a world of -sensational gossip “palpitating with actuality.” The captive Queen’s -precarious health was a constant subject of discussion. Shrewsbury’s -letters were bound to be full of it. Mary, who once more began to -bombard Elizabeth with letters, suggested a trial of Buxton waters. She -also busied herself anew with embroidery, contrived gifts for the Queen, -and sent her a large consignment of French stuffs and silks. When -packages of this kind arrived from France the Earl was always on the -look-out. So careful was he in regard to his wife’s share in such -parcels that he would not let her receive and pay for such goods until -he had first communicated the exact details of the transaction to his -royal mistress. - -Neither French taffetas nor little embroidered caps could alter the -decision of the Privy Council and reverse the position of the axe in -regard to the Duke of Norfolk. His death took place in the glory of the -early summer of 1572. Mary mourned and her health grew worse and worse. -Yet, just when change was planned for her, and the castle had reached a -condition almost too insanitary to endure, the news came of the massacre -of St. Bartholomew. “These French tragedies and ending of unlucky -marriage with blood and vile murders cannot be expressed with tongue to -declare the cruelties.... These fires may be doubted that their flames -may come both hither and into Scotland, for such cruelties have large -scopes.... All men now cry out of your prisoner,” wrote Burghley to the -Earl under supreme agitation. To which the latter replies later, “These -are to advertise you that the Queen remains still within these four -walls, in safe keeping.” The woods and wolds, he explains, are being -scoured by his spies, and the number of the guard is increased by -thirty. Clang of gate, clash of steel, roll of drum—the household music -of the Shrewsburys knew nothing more harmonious than these noises. At -stated intervals we hear the old burthen of sturdy self-vindication in -such letters as the following to Burghley:— - - - “My very good Lord, - -“I heartily thank your good Lordship for seeking to satisfy her Majesty -in some doubts she might conceive of me and my wife, upon information -given to her Majesty; your Lordship therein doeth the part of a faithful -friend; so I have always trusted, and you shall receive no dishonour -thereby. My services and fidelity to her Majesty are such as I am -persuaded with assured hope that her Majesty, having proofs enough -thereof, condemneth those who so untruly surmise, against my wife first, -and now myself, either of us undutiful dealing with this Queen or myself -of any carelessness in regard my charge. As before I crave trial of -whosoever is here noted of any indirect dealing with this Queen, so do I -again require at your Lordship’s hands to be amenable to her Majesty for -due proof and punishment, as they merit, that her Majesty might be fully -satisfied and quiet. And for my riding abroad sometimes (not far from my -charge) in respect of my health only; it has been well known to your -Lordship from the first beginning of my charge, and it is true I always -gave order first for safe keeping of her with a sure and stronger guard, -both within my house and further off, than when myself was with her. I -trusted none in my absence but those I had tried; true and faithful -servants unto me, and like subjects to her Majesty. I thank God my -account of this weighty charge is ready, to her Majesty’s contentation. -No information nor surmise can make me shrink. Nevertheless, henceforth -her Majesty’s commandment for my continual attendance upon this lady -shall be obeyed, as her Majesty shall not mislike thereof; and even so, -my Lord, I say to that part of your letters wherein a motion is made to -me; that (as in all my services hitherto) I had, nor seek, written -contentment nor will, than shall stand her Majesty’s pleasure or her -best service. And so, wishing to your Lordship as well as to myself, I -take my leave. - -“At Sheffield this 9th of December, 1572. - - “Your Lordship’s ever-assured friend, - “G. SHREWSBURY. - -“I have presumed to write to the Queen’s Majesty to the same effect as -to your Lordship.” - - - - - CHAPTER VII - FAMILY LETTERS - - -The following letters carry on the story of the Shrewsburys in domestic -and official detail for the next year. The second stepson of Bess was by -this time not only a married man, but a member of Parliament and a -courtier. He and his eldest stepbrother and brother-in-law, Henry -Cavendish, represented their own county. His brother, Francis Talbot, -the Earl’s heir, who was also at Court, had been entrusted with -diplomatic duties, and had already managed to get into mischief. Neither -he nor Gilbert, who survived him, ever took such an important social or -official position as that achieved by their father and stepmother. But -in youth they were about the Court, and they held their parents in -proper awe. Their occasional letters imply a strong sense of family duty -and kinship in little things as in great. The first letter touches on a -purely domestic matter. It is curious that, seeing his wife was his -stepmother’s eldest daughter, Gilbert should not have referred to the -Countess for advice and approval. - - -“My Lord,—My brother told me of the letter your Lordship sent him for -the putting away of Morgan and Marven; and said he rejoiced that your -Lordship would so plainly direct and command him what to do, and he -trusteth hereafter to please your Lordship in all his doings; whereunto, -according to my duty, I prayed him to have care above all manner of -things, and advised him to keep secret your Lordship’s directions. - -“I have found out a sober maiden to wait on my wife, if it shall please -your Lordship. She was servant unto Mrs. Southwell, now Lord Paget’s -wife, who is an evil husband, and will not suffer any that waited on his -wife before he married her to continue with her. As it behoves me, I -have been very inquisitive of the woman, and have heard very well of her -behaviour; and truly I do repose in her to be very modest and well -given, and such a one as I trust your Lordship shall not mislike; but if -it be so that she shall not be thought meet for my wife, she will -willingly repair hither again. Her name is Marget Butler; she is almost -twenty-seven years old. Mr. Bateman[18] hath known her long, and -thinketh very well of her: she is not very beautiful, but very cleanly -in doing of anything chiefly about a sick body, to dress anything fit -for them. I humbly pray your Lordship to send me word whether I shall -make shift to send her down presently, for she is very desirous not to -spend her time idly. Thus, most humbly desiring your Lordship’s daily -blessing, with my wonted and continual prayer for your Lordship’s -preservation in all honour and health, long to continue, I end. - -“At the Court this Monday, the 25th of May, 1573. - - “Your Lordship’s most humble and obedient son, - “GILBERT TALBOT.” - - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, from the picture at Hardwick - Hall_ - _By permission of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire_ - - GILBERT TALBOT, SEVENTH EARL OF SHREWSBURY - - Page 100 -] - -The next letter is largely given up to gossip, and places the Earl of -Leicester, who constantly writes wise and appreciative letters to the -Shrewsburys, in the gay, vivid light in which he is best known to -posterity. It is exhaustive, and touches on all the reports the writer -can gather as to public criticism of Shrewsbury as gaoler, besides -making allusion to the Earl’s financial difficulties. - - -“My most humble duty remembered, right honourable, my singular good Lord -and father; because of the convenience of the bearer hereof, I have -thought good to advertise your Lordship of the estate of some here at -the Court, as near as I have learned by my daily experience. My Lord -Treasurer, even after the old manner, dealeth with matters of the State -only, and beareth himself very uprightly. My Lord Leicester is very much -with her Majesty, and she shows the same great, good affection that she -was wont; of late he has endeavoured to please her more than heretofore. -There are two sisters now in the Court that are very far in love with -him, as they have been long—my Lady Sheffield and Frances Howard;[19] -they (of like striving who shall love him better) are at great wars -together, and the Queen thinketh not well of them and not the better of -him; by this means there are spies over him. My Lord of Sussex goes with -the tide, and helps to back others; but his own credit is sober, -considering his estate; he is very diligent in his office, and takes -great pains. My Lord of Oxford is lately grown into great credit; for -the Queen’s Majesty delighteth more in his personage and his dancing and -valiantness than any other. I think Sussex doth back him all that he -can; if it were not for his fickle head he would pass any of them -shortly. My Lady Burghley unwisely has declared herself, as it were, -jealous, which is come to the Queen’s ear; whereat she has been not a -little offended with her, but now she is reconciled again. At all these -love matters my Lord Treasurer winketh, and will not meddle anyway. -Hatton is sick still; it is thought he will very hardly recover his -disease, for it is doubted it is in his kidneys; the Queen goeth almost -every day to see how he doth. Now are there devices (chiefly by -Leicester, as I suppose, and not without Burleigh’s knowledge) to make -Mr. Edward Dyer as great as ever was Hatton; for now, in this time of -Hatton’s sickness, the time is convenient. It is brought thus to pass: -Dyer lately was sick of a consumption, in great danger; and, as your -Lordship knows, he has been in displeasure these two years, it was made -the Queen believe that his sickness came because of the continuance of -her displeasure towards him, so that unless she would forgive him he was -like not to recover, and hereupon her Majesty has forgiven him and sent -unto him a very comfortable message; now he is recovered again, and this -is the beginning of the device. These things I learn of such young -fellows as myself. Two days since Dr. Wilson told me he heard say that -your Lordship, with your charge, was removed to Sheffield Lodge, and -asked me whether it was so or not: I answered I heard so also; that you -were gone thither of force till the castle could be cleansed. And, -further, he wished to know whether your Lordship did so by the consent -of the Council, or not: I said I knew not that, but I was certain your -Lordship did it on good ground. I earnestly desired him, of all -friendship, to tell me whether he had heard anything to the contrary; -which he sware he never did, but asked because, he said, once that Lady -should have been conveyed from that house. Then I told him what great -heed and care you had to her safe-keeping; especially being there that -good numbers of men, continually armed, watched her day and night, and -both under her windows, over her chamber, and of every side her; so -that, unless she could transform herself to a flea or a mouse, it was -impossible that she should escape. At that time Mr. Wilson showed me -some part of the confession of one (but who he was, or when he did -confess it, he would in no wise tell me), that that fellow should say he -knew the Queen of Scots hated your Lordship deadly because of your -religion, being an earnest Protestant; and all the Talbots else in -England, being all Papists, she esteemeth of them very well; and this -fellow did believe verily all we Talbots did love her better in our -hearts than the Queen’s Majesty: this Mr. Wilson said he showed me -because I should see what knavery there is in some men to accuse. He -charged me of all love that I should keep this secret, which I promised; -and, notwithstanding, considering he would not tell me who this fellow -was, I willed a friend of mine, one Mr. Francis Southwell, who is very -great with him, to know, amongst other talk, who he had last in -examination; and I understood that this was the examination of one at -the last session of Parliament, and not since, but I cannot learn yet -what he was. Mr. Walsingham is this day come hither to the Court; it is -thought he shall be made Secretary. Sir Thomas Smith and he both -together shall exercise that office. He hath not yet told any news; he -hath had no time yet for being returned home; as soon as I hear any your -Lordship shall have them sent. Roulsden hath written to your Lordship as -he saith, by this bearer; he trusteth to your Lordship’s satisfaction. I -have been very importunate of him for the present payment of his debt to -your Lordship. He cannot anyways make shift for money unless he sell -land, which he vows to do rather than to purchase your Lordship’s -displeasure. I have moved my Lord Treasurer two sundry times as your -Lordship commanded me for the mustering within your Lordship’s offices. -The first time he willed me to come to him some other time, and he would -give me an answer, because then he had to write to Berwick in haste; -this he told me before I half told him what I meant. The second time, -which was on Saturday last, my Lord Leicester came unto him as I was -talking; but to-morrow, God willing, I will not fail to move him -thoroughly. For other matters I leave your Lordship to the bearer -himself. And so, most humbly desiring your Lordship’s daily blessing, -with my wonted prayer for the continuance of your Lordship’s honour, and -health long to continue, I end, this 11th of May, 1573. - - “Your Lordship’s most humble and obedient son, - “GILBERT TALBOT.” - - -This letter is packed with suggestions of Court intrigue. -Hatton—afterwards Sir Christopher Hatton—it will be remembered, was one -of the many young courtiers whose polish, culture, and elegant dancing -excited Elizabeth’s romantic interest. He rose from the post of -Gentleman of the Privy Chamber to the captaincy of the Guard, and, by -way of the successive posts of Vice-Chamberlain and Privy Councillor, -reached the Chancellorship and received a Garter. - -Edward Dyer, Hatton’s rival, matched him to some extent in honours, for -he too was subsequently knighted and invested with the Garter. As for -the Dr. Wilson named, he afterwards became a Secretary of State, while -the Earl of Oxford, who is shown as trying to outdo all other courtiers -in favour, was a son-in-law of Lord Burghley. He was an adherent of the -fifth Duke of Norfolk, and when Burghley refused to intercede for the -Duke’s life, the Earl vowed that he would revenge himself on his -father-in-law by destroying the happiness of his daughter. This he -achieved satisfactorily, and when she died of a broken heart he finished -his work of destruction by dissipating the whole of his fortune. The -jealousy of “my Lady Burghley,” named in the above letter, evidently -refers to the torture which his wife suffered while he was paying -addresses to the Queen. - -In the midst of this motley Court group one discerns the figure of -Burghley himself, a pillar of discretion, while unable to shield his own -daughter from distress and scandal. - -We see that the Earl of Leicester was a person to be cultivated so long -as his love affairs did not incur the Queen’s anger, and so long, in -fact, as the love-making was not on his side. It must have been with a -chuckle of satisfaction that the Earl received a letter from the -favourite about this time, in which he specially commends the behaviour -of the young Talbots and records the Queen’s high approval of them. All -this was very soothing to their parents. The political situation was -less acute. Many traitors were dead, and the banner of Mary of Scotland -lay in the dust. Her chief stronghold had fallen. France was in very bad -odour, though the memory of the horror of the Bartholomew Massacre was -beginning to fade from English minds. Spain had enough to do with her -affairs in the Netherlands. Elizabeth could afford to dance, practise on -the virginals, play off one of her Court lovers against another, and -invent nicknames for them. Domestic happiness and a merrier aspect of -things came also nearer to the Talbots. My Lady absented herself for a -while, and the Earl writes to her as of old like a lover, and tells her -of his dangers and longings:— - - -“My dear none,—Of all joys I have under God the greatest is yourself: to -think that I possess so faithful, and one that I know loves me so -dearly, is all and the greatest comfort that this earth can give. -Therefore God give me grace to be thankful to Him for His goodness -showed unto me, a vile sinner. - -“And where you advise in your letter you willed me to ...[20] which I -did that I should not be ...[20] to this lady nothing of the matter: my -stomach was so full, I asked her in quick manner, where she writ any -letters to any her friends that I would stand in her title. She affirms -in her honour she hath not. But howsoever it is she hath written -therein, I may safely answer I make small account thereof. - -“I thank you, my sweetheart, that you are so willing to come when I -will. Therefore, dear heart, send me word how I might send for you; and -till I have your company I shall think long, my only joy: and therefore -appoint a day, and in the meantime I shall content me with your will, -and long daily for your coming. I your letters study very well; and I -like them so well they could not be amended: and I have sent them up to -Gilbert. I have written to him how happy he is to have such a mother as -you are. Farewell, only joy. This Tuesday evening. - - “Your faithful one, - “G. SHREWSBURY. - -“To my wife.”[21] - - -The next letter, from one of her own boys, is one which Bess evidently -sent on to her “juwell” of a husband:— - - - _Henry Cavendish to the Countess of Shrewsbury._ - -“May it please your honour, I thought it good to let your La. understand -of a misfortune that happened in my house. On Thursday night last at -supper two of my men fell out about some trifling words, and to all -their fellows’ judgment that heard their jangling we made good friends -again, and went and lay together that night, for they had been -bedfellows of long before, and loved one another very well, as everybody -took it in the house. On Friday morning, very early, by break of day, -they went forth, by name Swenerto and Langeford, with two swords apiece, -as the sequel after showed; and in the fields fought together, and in -fight Swenerto slew Langeford, to my great grief both for the sudden -death of the one and for the utter destruction of the other, whom I -loved very well. Good Madam, let it not trouble you anything; we are -mortal, and born to many and strange adventures; and therefore must -temper our minds to bear such burdens as shall be by God laid on our -shoulders. My greatest grief, and so I judge it will be some trouble to -your La. that it should happen in my house. Alas! mada, what could I do -with it: altogether right sorrowful for it, and it hath troubled and -vexed me, more than in reason it should have done a wise man. I would to -God I could forget that there never had been any such matter. Upon the -fight done I sent for Mr. Adderley, and used his counsel in all things. -Swenerto fled presently and is pursued, but not yet heard of. Thus -humbly craving your La. daily blessing I end, more than sad to trouble -your La. thus long with this sorrowful matter. Tut: this present -Saturday. - -“Your La. most bounden, humble, and obedient son, - - “HENRY CAVENDISH. - - “To my lady. - “Return this.” - - -“My ‘juwell,’ this Saturday at night I received this letter, much to my -grief for the mishap. Yet was ever like that Swenerto should commit some -great fault; he was a vain, lewd fellow. Farewell, my dear heart. - - “Your faithful wife, - “E. SHREWSBURY.” - - -The Earl writes again, impatient for his wife’s return:— - - -“My dear none,—I see how careful you are of my health, which if I were -sick would relieve me again. I received a letter from Gilbert sent by -Nykle Clark. You may see the time approaching near that a new alarm will -be given me. When you have read his letter I pray you to write to me -again, for I mind of Monday to write by Antony Barlow; he will be glad -of the pursuivantship if he can get it: he shall have my good will -therein. If you will write up ... he may safely deliver it, therefore I -pray you fail not, but send me your advice concerning this matter. -Farewell, my only joy. This Saturday I pray you keep promise; you said -you would be with me within a fortnight at the furthest; therefore let -me hear from you when I shall send for your horses, my sweetheart. - - “Your faithful husband and assured, - “G. SHREWSBURY.” - - -At the beginning of the year following, 1574, the Earl indites a very -touching and dignified little New Year letter to the son in whom he -always seems to take the most interest—Gilbert:— - - -“I have received your letter of New Year’s Eve, and this New Year’s day -I begin to use my pen first to yourself wishing you to use yourself this -New Year and many years after to God’s glory and fear of Him, and to -live in that credit your ancestors have hitherto done, and so doing, as -I hope you will, be faithful, loyal, and serviceable to the Queen’s -Majesty, my Sovereign, who to me, under God, is King of Kings and Lord -of Lords. Your New Year’s gift shall be I will supply all your needful -wants; and so long as I see that carefulness, duty, and love you bear me -which hitherto I see in you, my purse and all that I have shall be as -free to you as to myself.[22] Time is so short and I have so many come -to me with New Year’s gifts I can write no more, but thank you for your -perfumed doublet you sent me: and so praying God to bless you. - -“Sheffield Castle this New Year’s Day 1574. - - “Your loving father, - “G. SHREWSBURY.” - - -The whole tone of the letter is one of domestic security, and one has a -vivid glimpse of the New Year celebrations and the flow of gifts. These -_étrennes_ were important affairs. A good courtier always paid this dole -to his queen under the guise of a handsome gift, while the nobles and -country gentry in their turn were the recipients from their tenants and -friends of heterogeneous articles varying from capons, wine, and -foodstuffs to gloves, clothes, or furniture. - -No one in that great and rich family group, so full of promise, had any -notion of the events which would call down upon the Countess the wrath -of the Queen, or the fresh accusations which would be hurled against the -Earl. - -Life just now was as easy as Shrewsbury could ever hope to find it. He -had managed to satisfy his prisoner and give her plenty of change. She -was in the autumn of 1573 transferred to Chatsworth, _en route_ for -Buxton. Ultimately, by dint of scouring the place of strangers and -preventing access to the springs of any save specified persons—a thing -the more easy of accomplishment since the waters were the property of -Shrewsbury’s family—it was made possible to give her five weeks here. -After this came a stay at Chatsworth and then the return to Sheffield. - -Freedom from outside attacks did not last very long. Before the spring -had fairly set in Elizabeth and Burghley were once more on the warpath -against the Shrewsburys. Never was George Talbot sure of his Queen’s -trust. It must be remembered here that at the close of 1572 she had -deliberately written thus by Burghley: “The Queen’s Majesty has in very -good part accepted your last letter to herself, and has willed me to -ascertain your Lordship that she doth no wise alter her former good -opinion of your approved fidelity and of the care you have of such -service as is committed to you, the same being such as none can in her -land compare with the trust committed to your Lordship, and yet she -would have your Lordship, as she says, not to mislike that when she hath -occasion to doubt or fear foreign practices reaching hither into her -realm, even to the charge which your Lordship hath, she do warn you -thereof; and, in so doing, not to imagine that she findeth such -informations to proceed from any mistrust that she hath of your -Lordship, no more than she would have if you were her son or brother. -This she wills me to write effectually to your Lordship ... with my most -hearty commendations to your Lordship and my good Lady.” - -In spite of this the least thing afforded Elizabeth an excuse for a -nagging letter to Sheffield Castle. On this occasion the matter was -innocent enough. Gilbert’s young wife expected her first child, and it -was not surprising that my Lord and Lady should prefer that the event -should take place under their roof. Yet the Queen thought it necessary -to worry them with mistrust, forcibly expressed. Shrewsbury replies to -Burghley: “The mislike her Majesty ... of my son Gilbert’s wife brought -to bed in my house, as cause of women and strangers repair hither, makes -me heartily sorry; nevertheless, the midwife excepted, none such have, -or do at any time, come within her sight; and at the first, to avoid -such resort, I myself with two of my children christened the child. What -intelligence passeth for this Queen to and from my house I do not know; -but trust her Majesty shall find my service while I live both true and -faithful. Yet be you assured, my Lord, this lady will not stay to put in -practice, or make enquiry by all means she can devise, and ask me no -leave, so long as such access of her people is permitted unto her.... My -Lord, where there hath been often bruits of this Lady’s escape from me, -the 26th of February last there came an earthquake, which so sunk -chiefly her chamber as I doubted more her falling than her going, she -was so afraid. But God be thanked she is forthcoming, and grant it may -be a forewarning unto her. It hath been at the same time in sundry -places. No hurt was done and the same continued a very small time. God -grant us all grace to fear Him.” - -That the very Derbyshire ground which bore him should fail his feet -while his Queen’s faith in him fell away seems adding insult to injury. -For some time past he appears to have been torn between the longing to -rid himself of a now intolerable responsibility and the fear of -misconstruction to which his retirement from his post would expose him. -“The truth is, my good Lord,” as he is driven at last to say to -Burghley, “if it so stand with the Queen Majesty’s pleasure I could be -right well contented to be discharged ... and think myself therewith -most happy, if I could see how the same might be without any blemish to -my honour and estimation.” He begs that Burghley “will have respect that -such consideration may be had of my service as shall make it manifest to -the world how well her Majesty accepteth the same. My Lord Scroop, and -others, were not unconsidered of for their short time of service.” And -so in this condition of mind he waits for Burghley’s advice. He would -have done better to risk the Queen’s displeasure and to lay down his -gaoler’s warrant on the plea of illness, even if in those days medical -certificates were not so easy to procure and might not have been so -potent. As for disfavour at Court, he could, as a strong and powerful -private gentleman, take up his stand and keep up his vast property, -though Elizabeth might wreak her annoyance on the young Cavendishes and -Talbots. Had he summed up the courage to decide the matter after his own -heart he would have lost nothing in the world’s esteem, been far better -off in pocket, and possibly the barque of the Shrewsburys would have -escaped the shoals and rocks of domestic bickerings, which in later -middle-life led to such woeful wreckage of the vessel and the -magnificent family crew. - -George Talbot did not foresee all this. He was not an imaginative man. -He was a typical Government official, precise, sententious, cautious, -faithful, anxious, hypersensitive. One imagines that his countess—who -was not in the least _au fond_ the typical discreet wife of a high -official—spent a good deal of time goading him to revolt. He has -admitted in a previous letter that she was not at all anxious for him to -continue with his present duties. Of course, it was the business of -Burghley to keep him at them. Shrewsbury was the most useful of all -English nobles in this respect. All the conditions about him suited the -Queen’s purposes in every way. The way in which she and Burghley put him -off with fair promises and bamboozled him with vague promises of reward -makes one gasp. As to current outlay—the £52 per week allowed him for -this by the Council was far too little—one of the most ingenious -suggestions Elizabeth ever made was that Mary should “defray her own -charges with her dowry of France.” Shrewsbury adds: “She seemed not to -dislike thereof at all, but rather desirous ... so she asked me in what -sort and with what manner of liberty she should be permitted to same.” -He urges that these details should be settled at once. “Assure yourself -if the liberty and manner thereof content her as well as the motion, she -will easily assent to it; and so I wish it, as may be without peril -otherwise; and for the charges in safe-keeping her, I have found them -greater many ways than some have accounted for, and than I have made -show of, or grieved at; for in service of her Majesty I can think my -whole patrimony well bestowed.” - -How the wary official, loyal and somewhat crushed, speaks in that last -sentence! How irritating to his Bess with her superabundant business -instinct and her ambitions for her family! He was ever on the watch, his -conscience agog. She was continually “on the make,” seeking the quickest -road to family aggrandisement which was compatible with decency. - -The following letter belongs to this period, and shows Gilbert Talbot -back in London. He had been previously there in communication with Court -officials apropos of the accusations brought originally against his -father and subsequently against himself by an ex-chaplain of the Earl, -named Corker, in combination with another priest called Haworth. The -letter roused the whole family. The Earl literally lashes out. It -remains as the chief evidence of the first published imputations against -the Earl’s honour. It evidently embodies the attitude of wife as well as -husband. This is a very important point because of the dissension which -arose later on this very question. - - -“_To the right honourable my very good Lord, my Lord Burghley, Lord -Treasurer of England._ - -“Your Lordship’s friendly letters I accept in as friendly ways as I know -to be meant to me. For Corker’s proceedings against my son Gilbert, I -partly understand of his false accusation; which, in my conscience, is -utterly untrue and thereupon I dare gage my life. The reprobate’s -beginning was against me and now turned to Gilbert. His wicked speeches -of me cannot be hid; I have them of his own hand, cast abroad in London, -and bruited throughout this realm, and known to her Majesty’s Council. -Her Majesty hath not heard of him ill of me, so it pleaseth her Majesty -to signify unto me by her own gracious letters, which I must believe, -notwithstanding his dealing against me is otherwise so notoriously known -that if he escape sharp and open punishment dishonour will redound to -me. This practice hath a further meaning than the varlets know of.... -For mine own part I have never thought to allow any title, nor will, -otherwise than as shall please her Majesty to appoint.... How can it be -supposed that I should be disposed to favour this Queen for her claim to -succeed the Queen’s Majesty? My dealing towards her hath shown the -contrary. I know her to be a Stranger, a Papist, and my enemy; what hope -can I have of good of her, either for me or my country? I see I am by my -own friends brought in jealousy, wherefore I wish with all my heart that -I were honourably read, without note or blemish, to the world of any -want in me.” - - -Though the Earl’s enemy was satisfactorily condemned to the pillory and -the Fleet, the scandal proved many-headed, and again the poor official -(accused, among other things, of being as much of a credulous fool as a -knave in regard to Mary of Scotland) thunders protest. - - -“Wherefore as touching that lewd fellow, who hath not only sought by -unlawful libels extant, so much as in him lay, to deface my dutiful -heart and loyalty, but also the rooting up of my house, utter overthrow -and destruction of my lineal posterity, I neither hold him a subject nor -yet account him worthy the name of a man, which with a watery submission -can appease so rigorous a storm;[23] no, if loss of my life, which he -hath pretended would have fully contented him, I could better have been -satisfied than with these, his unspeakable vilenesses.... I might be -thought hard-hearted if, for Christianity’s sake, I should not freely -forgive as cause shall require, and desire God to make him a better -member, being so perilous a caterpillar in the Commonwealth. For I have -not the man anywise in contempt, it is his iniquity and Judas dealing -that I only hate.” - - -In other words, “Reptile! But I forgive thee.” It is almost a parallel -to the anecdote of a certain little girl with an over-stern nurse of -gloomy religious tendencies, to whom the child, waking alone in the -dark, called, “Nurse, nurse, come, come! I dreamed that the devil was -here tempting me to call you a duffer—_but I resisted the temptation_!” - -The Corker affair, of course, provided fresh food for the imaginings and -reports of Mary’s adversaries. People thought that it would necessarily -mean the removal of Mary into fresh custody. Mary herself dreaded this. -She did not love Shrewsbury, but she believed her life to be safe with -him, though she may not have entirely trusted his wife. She heard that -poison was to be used against her, and that there was a suggestion at -Court “to make overtures to the Countess of Shrewsbury.” She was assured -that if anyone poisoned her without Elizabeth’s knowledge, the latter -“would be very much obliged to them for relieving her of so great a -trouble.” - -There is nothing on the Countess’s side to corroborate this wild -statement. This horrible fear, however, was so implanted in Mary’s mind -that she sent to France for “some genuine terra sigillata, as antidote.” -But she did not apply to her sinister mother-in-law Catherine De Medici. -“Ask M. the Cardinal my uncle,” she writes, “or if he has none, rather -than have recourse to the Queen my mother-in-law, or to the King, send a -bit of fine unicorn’s horn, as I am in great want of it.” - -The year 1574 travelled onward without realisation of her fears. The -“caterpillar,” Corker, had not prevailed in the overthrow of the Earl’s -house or of his “lineal posterity,” and Gilbert Talbot in this little -note writes affectionately enough to his stepmother:—[24] - - -“My most humble duty remembered unto your good Ladyship, to fulfil your -La. commandment, and in discharge of my duty by writing, rather than for -any matter of importance that I can learn, I herewith trouble your La. -Her Majesty stirreth little abroad, and since the stay of the navy to -sea here hath been all things very quiet.... I have written to my Lord -of the bruit which is here of his being sick again, which I nothing -doubt but it is utterly untrue: howbeit, because I never heard from my -L. nor your La. since I came up, I cannot choose but be somewhat -troubled, and yet I consider the like hath been often reported most -falsely and without cause, as I beseech God this be. My Lady Cobbam -asketh daily how your La. doth, and yesterday prayed me, the next time I -wrote, to do her very hearty commendation unto your La., saying openly -she remaineth unto your La. as she was wont, as unto her dearest friend. -My La. Lenox hath not been at the Court since I came. On Wednesday next -I trust (God willing) to go hence towards Goodrich; and shortly after to -be at Sheffield. And so most humbly craving your La. blessing with my -wonted prayer, for your honour and most perfect health long to continue. -From the Court at Greenwich this 27th June, 1573. - - “Your La. most humble and obedient son, - “GILBERT TALBOT. - - “To my Lady. - -“I received a letter from my Lord since this letter was sealed, and then -I had no time by this messenger to write again unto your La. which came -in a comfortable season unto me.” - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - A CERTAIN JOURNEY - - -It was now the autumn of the year 1574. The Shrewsburys had for the time -being come triumphantly out of official complications, and despite their -grave responsibilities lived as comfortably as might be, though they -were often separated, because the wife, at any rate, had other duties -besides that of gaolership. What social life was permitted to them by -the restraint entailed by this charge could obviously be enjoyed only by -the Countess, and even she must have found it difficult to meet her -cronies, get her children married and provided for, and keep a firm hand -on domestic expenditure at the various houses she owned. The guarding of -Mary of Scotland certainly had its interesting, romantic side, and this -to some extent was a set-off against the greyer side of the business and -its financial disadvantages. Just now the chances of Mary were at their -lowest. Bothwell was dying in exile,[25] the Duke of Norfolk had shed -his blood vainly for her, Charles Darnley, “The Young Fool,” as Mr. Lang -most justly calls him, though dead, with all his vanity, treachery, and -vice, could still harm her cause, more latterly perhaps through the -popular stigma which attached to her than by the hatred of his -relatives, the family of Lennox. His family, sorely chastened by -Elizabeth for his marriage with Mary, was, since his death, held in less -odium at the English Court, though it did not suit the Queen’s gracious -meanness to raise it out of poverty. Elizabeth and Darnley’s mother, -poor soul—Countess of Lennox, _née_ the Lady Margaret Douglas—had buried -the hatchet after the boy’s death. For the benefit of those who forget -her story—or ignore it—a word as to this lady:— - -[Illustration: - - _From a contemporary picture_ - - LADY MARGARET DOUGLAS, COUNTESS OF LENNOX - - MOTHER OF LORD DARNLEY - - Page 120 -] - -The daughter of Queen Margaret of Scotland (a Tudor, and sister of Henry -VIII) and of the Earl of Angus, a mere boy, she was born in a wild -moment of flight over the border into England. The very castle into -which her mother crept after the long journey on horseback was -immediately besieged. Thereafter the child Margaret became a bone of -contention between her divorced parents—as history tells. After three -years of babyhood in the shelter of her royal uncle’s English Court she -spent her youth in France and Scotland, often latterly a wanderer from -castle to castle, abhorred by her mother the Scots Queen because of her -devotion to her outlawed father. For years she had neither house nor -pin-money, but was dependent always upon such hospitality and shelter as -her father’s friends would yield her in their Northern fortresses. -Though her mother never forgave her for her defection, the fortunes of -the girl—beautiful and of imposing personality—mended and brought her at -last into the sunshine of Tudor favours. Henry VIII had compassion on -his niece and made her playmate of Princess Mary, at which time she so -won his affections that he settled an annuity upon her and her father. -Subsequently she was first lady-in-waiting to Anne Boleyn, and was -installed as one of the household of the baby Princess Elizabeth. While -Katherine of Aragon was being divorced and the star of Anne Boleyn waxed -and waned she witnessed strange moments, and watched the violent changes -by which her uncle declared now this one and now that one of his -daughters illegitimate. Her own fortunes, even as a princess of the -blood royal, were—in spite of her uncle’s genial expressions—nothing too -secure, and marriage and a dowry were still dreams of the future. -Possibly the King’s erotic irregularities allowed him no time for the -love affairs of others, but at any rate he manifestly did not, like some -of his successors, intend to doom his lady wards to perpetual virginity. -When Lady Margaret showed favour to Lord Thomas Howard, kinsman of the -Queen (Boleyn), Henry seemed to have winked at the courtship. So soon, -however, as he killed his second consort and degraded her baby girl to -the ranks of the illegitimate, matters assumed a very different colour. -For the Lady Margaret Douglas was now the nearest heir to the throne. He -married immediately, but no heir was speedily born. Meanwhile the Lady -Margaret’s love affair grew and culminated in a formal if secret -contract—that is to say a solemn betrothal, in every respect binding. -Henry regarded this as a double offence. His blood niece, his heir -apparent, had contracted herself without his permission; moreover she -had pledged herself to a near relative of the abhorred Boleyn. He -behaved in his proper, kingly, melodramatic way, sent man and maid to -the Tower, speedily convicted them of high treason, and sentence of -death followed. The execution of this, as usual, was delayed. The State -document condemning both is, as all the world knows, one of the most -disgracefully illegal concoctions ever produced by the blundering rage -of a ruler and the hypocrisy of his ministers. In addition it furnished -the precedent for the gross interference of that ruler’s daughter, -Elizabeth, in like cases. In addition to proving the Lady Margaret -guilty of treason, it professed to prove her illegitimacy also, and so -cleared the way for Henry’s future whims. The unhappy Lord Thomas, after -a year or two, succumbed to close confinement and sorrow and died in the -Tower. His lady was removed to Sion House Court, near London, one of the -few religious houses upon which her uncle found it convenient to smile -because it could play a most useful part in his affairs as a polite -place of detention for ladies of quality who drooped under his -displeasure. The birth of his prince—Edward VI—made him relent towards -his niece, and she came about the Court once more, though her old -penchant for the house of Howard, of which a second member—nephew of her -betrothed—now wooed her, thrust her into shadow again. This was probably -a harder blow than the first, though she was not this time shivering -under the fear of the axe. For she had been fully restored to her old -place; she had once more taken part in that melodramatic domestic -merry-go-round of Henry’s consorts. She was first lady to the new royal -Anne of Cleves, she had apartments assigned to her at Hampton Court, and -she was “first lady” again to Anne’s successor, Katherine Howard. A -weary period of detention at Sion House followed—sharply ended because -the King now wished to shut up Katherine Howard there. So Lady Margaret -was moved on to the care of the Duke of Norfolk on the East coast. The -third Katherine whom Henry wooed—the widowed Parr—put an end to this -banishment, and by her tact and kindness reconciliations took place all -round in the royal house. Lady Margaret played bridesmaid and -lady-in-waiting once more, and her uncle began to bestir himself about -her marriage. The man she wedded at the age of thirty-two after so much -tossing and chasing, imprisonment and poverty, was the very Matthew, -Earl of Lennox, whose claim to the Scots Crown had by James V of -Scotland, on the death of his two sons, been preferred against those of -the Earl of Arran. Both earls were kinsmen of James, and because of -their high ambitions were engaged in undying feud. The birth of a royal -Scots heir, in Mary, reduced both lords to the same level, but did not -diminish the pertinacity of Lennox, who returned from France to England -with the design of wedding Mary’s mother, Mary of Lorraine, as soon as -her widowhood pointed her out as eligible. He was a handsome fellow and -perfected in the graces of courts after his long apprenticeship in -France, but he did not have his way, and emissaries from England schemed -to throw Lady Margaret Douglas in his path. England was eager that he -should serve her purposes. As consort of Mary of Lorraine and financed -by France he would be the worst enemy of England. With Lady Margaret -England dangled before him a good dowry. The marriage, adorned by the -blessing of Henry VIII, took place with great éclat in 1544, and the -King flourished his sanction in a speech including the important -declaration, “in case his own issue failed he should be right glad if -heirs of her body succeeded to the crown.” Nevertheless, though her -husband was promised the regency of Scotland, and she was awarded -residence in a royal palace (Stepney), she did not retain the King’s -favour. Quarrels ensued; whether brewed by the spies in her own -household in London or in Yorkshire (where she established herself in -order to be nearer her husband, engaged in Border invasions), or by her -act does not appear. Just before Henry died the breach was complete, and -in spite of her having given birth to three legitimate Tudor heirs, of -whom Henry Darnley was the second, her rights and those of her offspring -from the regal succession in England were wiped out. - -With a strength, as of Antæus, the much-buffeted lady overrode trouble -and travelled to London with her child Henry, now the eldest (her -first-born died in infancy), to pay her respects to her cousin, the new -King, Edward VI. How she faced the situation is a marvel. Her husband’s -Border cruelties had made him unpopular, and she was coldly looked upon. -Her position for some years was most equivocal, since, in spite of her -close relationship to the queen dowager of Scotland, she could not -present to this lady, her sister-in-law, her husband Earl Lennox, -traitor to Scotland, or her sons, in whom the Tudor blood was tainted by -that of Lennox. She lived, however, in stately fashion in Yorkshire, -followed eagerly the ritual of the Romish Church, and educated her -children in it. Quarrels with her father Angus, discussions as to the -disposal of his property, the birth of her eighth child, and the -impaired health of her lord engrossed her now sufficiently. Then came -another subtle and sudden change of fortunes with the death of Edward -VI, the abortive scheme on behalf of Lady Jane Grey, and the sudden -triumph of the claims of Princess Mary over those of her younger sister -Elizabeth. - -During the reign of Mary of England Lady Lennox passed into calmer -waters. She did not abuse her opportunities, but the Queen’s favour did -not make Margaret or her children heirs designate to Mary’s crown. - -Exit Mary, enter Elizabeth, and with Elizabeth a short time of -prosperity! Matthew Lennox secured eventually his regency in Scotland, -and his wife was in waiting upon Elizabeth at Windsor. She must have -felt like a bat emerging from a cellar after the constant misfortunes -and rebuffs of the past. Disfavour, dispeace were, however, always her -portion, and very soon closed in upon her. This time the occasion of -disturbance was France. Its king died. Mary of Scotland became queen -consort. Lady Lennox saw a rich chance of using influence so puissant -for reinstating her husband and herself in Scotland. She sent one -messenger of congratulation and again another. This seems to have been -Henry Darnley, now her eldest son, who was just fifteen. Thus did she -begin to lay the train of circumstances which exploded in the horrors of -the night of Kirk-o’-Field. From this till the actual Darnley marriage -it was the Lady Lennox even more than her husband who invited intrigue. -She, like other keen aristocratic plotters of the day, employed not only -codes, emissaries, and spies, but conjurors. Little she guessed at the -eavesdroppers who lurked in the corners of her great house at -Settrington, and of the spies whom the Earl of Leicester and Lord -Burghley employed to catch every suspicious word and record every -private interview within her walls. One fine day the Queen’s officers -invaded and seized her household, conjurors included, and she and her -family were summoned sharply to Court. A sorry journey that, though not -the first piece of pitiful travelling she had done. Servants, children, -lord and lady reached the capital, and were disposed of in various -quarters. The Lennoxes were ordered to their own apartments in -Westminster Palace, while some of their retinue were put into the old -Gate House prison close by. How young Lord Darnley managed to evade -watching and quietly lose himself in London is a mystery. This did not -make things easier for his parents, who were instantly punished by -separation and imprisonment, he in the Tower, and she to strait keeping -under the roof of Sir Richard and Lady Sackville, the Queen’s cousins, -at Sheen. Lady Lennox’s religion and the unjust suggestion that she had -been responsible for the harsh treatment, by the late Queen, of her -sister Elizabeth, seemed to aggravate the case of both prisoners. After -sickness, pleadings, and indignation, husband and wife were permitted to -share confinement at Sheen. It would have been best for them if they had -been kept there indefinitely. How Elizabeth ever came to free them in -the midst of her suspicions and fears in regard to the marriage of Mary -of Scotland is extraordinary. That she should actually have been -prevailed upon to give the Earl and his eldest son a passport into -Scotland is still more so. With the Darnley marriage began Lady Lennox’s -long incarceration in the Tower itself—a more pitiful imprisonment than -any she had experienced. Her children were far from her; her husband and -eldest son were too wise to risk their fate by obeying Elizabeth’s -absurd order to return to Court. Freedom came hand in hand with the -terrible news of Darnley’s murder. What could the woman do but break -forth into loud complaints and passionate accusation in the royal -presence? Was it strange that, worn with imprisonment, the beauty of her -prime gone, her face disfigured with many sorrows, her dignity and royal -blood degraded, she should address a petition begging the Queen to -commit Mary to trial and secure the speedy execution of justice? -Elizabeth would not have her hand forced. “It was not becoming,” said -she, “to fix a charge so heinous upon the princess and her kinswoman -without producing the clearest evidence.” She would not actually accuse, -but she would not clear her enemy. - -Thus there was reason enough for Elizabeth’s later clemency towards the -Lennoxes. It suited the purpose of queen and prisoner that they should -now join issue against the murderess, “the hure,” against “Bothwell’s -wench.” It suited Lennox well that he should be installed guardian of -the future James I, and Lady Lennox, as his grandmother, was now -accorded a far more important position than she could have taken had her -daughter-in-law been above suspicion. It is true that financially she -was never unembarrassed. A mansion at Hackney, formerly the property of -the ruined family of Percy, was awarded to her as a residence, but it -does not seem to have been much of a home, or at least, her manner of -living there seems to have been anything but luxurious. She does not -appear to have been much at Court. Gilbert Talbot alludes to her in a -letter already quoted, and written in this summer of 1574: “My Lady of -Lennox hath not been at the Court since I came.” Up to the present her -attitude towards Mary was unchanged. When Lord and Lady Burghley visited -Chatsworth in 1570, Margaret Lennox thought it necessary to flog a dead -horse and add by letter her exhortations to the warnings of Elizabeth -that Mr. Secretary should be on his guard against the wiles of Mary. -Even Margaret—a woman—knew the force of the personal equation in this -case. She is careful to add: “Not for any fear you should be won, which -as her Majesty tells me she did speak to you at your departing, but to -let you understand how her Majesty hath had some talks with me touching -my Lord.... Her Majesty says that Queen works many ways—I answered her -Majesty was a good lady to her and better I thought than any other -prince would have been if they were in her case, for she staid -publishing abroad her wickedness which was manifestly known.” In the -self-same summer from Chatsworth Mary, the daughter-in-law, writes to -her. The content and tone of the letters is pitiful enough. - - -“Madame,—If the wrong and false reports of enemies well known as -traitors to you, alas! too much trusted by me, by your advice, had not -so far stirred you against my innocence (and I must say against all -kindness) that you have not only as it were condemned me wrongfully, but -cherished, as your words and deeds have testified to all the world, a -manifest misliking against your own blood, I would not have omitted this -long ago duty in writing to you, excusing me for those untrue reports -made of me, but hoping with God’s grace and time to have my innocence -confirmed, as I trust it is already, even to the most indifferent -persons. I thought best not to trouble you for a time till now another -matter is moved that toucheth us both, which is the transporting of your -little son, and my only child, to the which I were never so willing, yet -I would be glad to have your advice therein, as in all other things -touching him. I have borne him, and God knoweth with what danger to him -and to me, and of you he is descended. So I mean not to forget my duty -to you in showing therein any unkindness to you notwithstanding how -unkindly you have dealt with me, but will love you as my aunt and -respect you as my mother-in-law. And if it please you to know further of -my mind, in that and all things betwixt us, my ambassador, the Bishop of -Ross, shall be ready to confer with you. - -“And so after my hearty commendations, remitting you to the said -ambassador and your better consideration, I commit you to the protection -of Almighty God, whom I pray to preserve you, and my brother Charles, -and cause you to know my part better than you do—By your loving -daughter-in-law. - -“(To my Lady Lennox, my mother-in-law.)”[26] - - -This letter was delivered to Lady Lennox in the Queen’s presence some -months after it was written, and Elizabeth was still at work defaming -the writer to her mother-in-law. That was during the close of 1570. In -1574 their relations were in no wise altered. Lady Lennox evidently -still believed her son’s wife guilty, while she pathetically insisted -upon her rights as the grandmother of a king. In this capacity she -applied to the Queen for a safe-conduct to her northern house of -Settrington—now restored to her—whither she wished to repair with her -son Charles because she had been informed of a plot to carry off her -royal grandson and bring him to England. This seems to have been a -rather well-worn excuse and was mistrusted by Elizabeth, who about this -time began to entertain doubts of her lady’s real attitude towards the -imprisoned “dowager of Scotland.” She and Lady Shrewsbury were old -acquaintances at Court. The latter heard of the projected long journey, -and invited the party to break it at one of the Shrewsbury “places.” -Chatsworth offered itself as most suitable, but she was right in her -surmise that this choice would only appear in a suspicious light to -Elizabeth, who anticipated it in the admonition she bestowed on Lady -Lennox before her departure. Her Ladyship showed a fine indignation at -such a suggestion, but one wonders whether this was not merely a piece -of “bluff,” for the complicity of Mary had been repeatedly denied by -Bothwell and by other Scottish lords implicated in the dark business at -Kirk-o’-Field. At any rate this northern journey gave colour to all -kinds of imputations. It was suggested that Lady Lennox’s ultimate aim -was simply a visit of tender enquiry and that she was bound actually for -Scotland to assure herself of the welfare of the boy James. It was -thought, again, that she herself would kidnap the child and bring him -into England for her own purposes or for those of her daughter-in-law. -At all events she had her way and started. Lady Shrewsbury also knew -that Chatsworth was much too near Sheffield Castle to allow of the -reception of this guest without literally disobeying orders from Court. -She decided, therefore, upon Rufford Abbey as the most suitable place. -Unhappily the scheme which lay behind this hospitality has not descended -to posterity in the form of letters. But gradually the motives -underlying the invitation show themselves clearly enough. Lady -Shrewsbury had still one unmarried daughter for whom she was exerting -herself to find a good match. She had her eye upon a certain young -Bertie, a son of the Duchess of Suffolk by a second marriage. This -affair could not be accomplished, and she therefore worked upon the -Duchess’s sympathy so as to secure her co-operation in a new direction. -Lady Lennox and her son Charles on their journey halted first at the -gates of the Duchess’s house. Six miles away was Rufford, where Lady -Shrewsbury had taken her daughter and made all ready for goodly -entertainment. To the Duchess’s house she sent a messenger, and backed -up the invitation by a personal visit. Lady Lennox accepted the -invitation, and with her son, coach, baggage-carts, mules, and -attendants arrived at the Abbey. Previous to this there must surely have -taken place an interesting three-cornered interview between the three -great ladies. Though the Duchess of Suffolk may have been genuinely -interested in helping to find a husband for wistful young Elizabeth -Cavendish, one cannot acquit her of a certain malice. Her part in the -transaction wears a very innocent air. Nothing happened under her roof -for which she could be called to book by the Queen. At the same time she -was a hot Protestant and could not have felt any very great sympathy for -the Lady Lennox, nor for Lady Shrewsbury, who, as regards mere creed, -must always have been a religious opportunist. - -At Rufford Lady Lennox fell ill. There was excuse enough after the -exposure to cold and flood in the uncertain autumn weather during which -she undertook her journey. She was forced to keep her room. Nothing -could have fallen out more happily to assist the plot of the hostess. -Her hands were occupied with her friend’s ailments. Their children must -amuse one another. In five days the close companionship between Charles -and Elizabeth could not but grow, fostered by the cleverness of the -girl’s mother. Free to go and come in gardens and woodland, young and -lithe, eager to escape from rules and duties and tutors, to forget sad -things—Elizabeth Cavendish, the grim details of Sheffield Castle, its -alarums and excursions, Charles Stuart, the tragedies of his family—they -wooed each other readily. Glimpses of their courtship are visualised for -the reader in imaginary dialogue following. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - LOVE AND THE WOODMAN - - - _Scene_: A parlour in Rufford Abbey, October, 1574. Elizabeth - Cavendish bending over her embroidery frame. The Countess of - Shrewsbury seated writing. - -A man’s voice [_calling outside the window_]. Mistress! Mistress -Elizabeth! Come out! - - [_Elizabeth Cavendish starts, rises, looks at her mother._ - -_Countess_ [_apparently stern_]. Say that I have set you a task. Now do -not go to the window! - -_Elizabeth_ [_checking herself half-way to the window_]. Nay, my Lord, I -cannot come indeed. [_Drops her voice._] Oh! mother, if it were one of -the grooms or only my brother! - -_Countess._ Little fool! It is the voice of Lennox. Mark you—play him -wisely. - -_Lennox_ [_calling again_]. Mistress, there is no “cannot” when the sun -calls! - -_Elizabeth._ My Lord, lady mother says she ... needs me. - -_Lennox._ It is not true. She is brewing a hot posset for my mother. I -saw her shoulders in the buttery. - -_Countess_ [_her shoulders shaking_]. Oho! it was Mrs. Glasse he saw. I -gave her once an old gown of mine to wear. - -_Elizabeth_ [_moving to the window_]. No, no, my Lord, she says it was -Mrs. Gl.... [_The Countess springs up, catches her sharply by the wrist, -and gives her a little rap with her fan._] - -_Countess._ S-s-t! Let him think I am not here. Play him, play him! - -_Lennox._ What is that you say, mistress? - -_Elizabeth_ [_embarrassed and miserable_]. Nothing.... - - [_Lennox throws his cap in at the window. It falls at her feet._] - -_Countess._ Girl, do not touch it. - -_Lennox._ Oh, mistress, how the sun calls! It has called my cap. Some -magic has given wings to it and it is gone. - -_Elizabeth._ It is here! - -_Countess._ Hush! Not yet—not yet. - - [_Enter at back a maid with a bowl of posset._] - -_Lennox._ Mistress, is my cap flown in at your window perchance? - -_Countess_ [_mimicking Elizabeth’s voice_]. Indeed, no. - -_Elizabeth._ Oh—lady mother! - - [_The maid with the posset giggles, and receives a frown and a box on - the ear for her pains._] - -_Maid._ Will your la’ship’s grace be pleased to taste? - -_Countess._ Nay, nay, I cannot abide tansy, but it is good for the -joints and for rheumy distillations, and will serve the Lady Margaret -finely. Go you and wait for me at her door with the bowl. - -_Lennox._ Elizabeth, I know you have my cap. Without it I cannot walk -abroad. The wind is cool. - -_Elizabeth_ [_softly_]. Oh, mother, he will have the rheum too! - -_Countess._ Then shall he stay longer and be well nursed and physicked -also. - -_Lennox._ Bring me my cap, fair mistress. - -_Bess_ [_in Elizabeth’s voice_]. Come and fetch it, my Lord. - -_Lennox._ That I will, if you will come out with me. But not till you -promise. - -_Bess_ [_to Elizabeth_]. Say no—say no. - -_Elizabeth._ I cannot, because ... because ... I have much work to do, -enough for ... many days. - -_Lennox._ It can tarry, lady. In two days I shall be over the Border. - -_Elizabeth_ [_agonised_]. Oh, mother! - -_Bess_ [_in the feigned voice_]. Not without your cap, I trust, my Lord. - -_Lennox._ What if you give it me back? - -_Elizabeth_ [_in tears_]. Mother, why does he not come to fetch it? - -_Bess._ Sh-sh. I scolded him well but half an hour ago, and bid him -leave you alone and keep out of my parlour. - -_Elizabeth_ [_with dignity_]. Nay, lady mother, he shall have his cap. -[_Picks it up._] - -_Bess_ [_taking it from her_]. He shall, young impudence, but he shall -fetch it. Play him, Bet, play him well, and if he should ask you go into -the meadows ... say “Yes.” But not in haste, mark you! - -_Elizabeth_ [_on her knees, clinging to her mother’s gown_]. Lady -mother ... I mislike it.... - -_Bess_ [_disengaging herself_]. “It,” “it”? What is “it”? He is a pretty -young man, and his blood runs high like Darnley’s. But God be thanked -’tis a wiser fool than his brother. Now remember to carry yourself as a -Cavendish should. Be cautious! Make no false step. I go to cosset and -posset the mother. S’death, I would I were in your shoes, Bet, to run -into the woods instead of tiptoe round a sick-chamber. - -_Elizabeth_ [_springing up_]. May I indeed go into the woods? - -_Bess_ [_at the door_]. Sh-sh.... Cavendo tutus![27] - -_Elizabeth_ [_half runs to the window with the cap, stops, smiles_]. My -Lord! - -_Lennox._ Are you alone, mistress? - -_Elizabeth._ Yes.... No.... - -_Lennox._ Who is there? - -_Elizabeth._ Your cap! [_Looks laughing out of the window._] - -_Lennox._ Coming, coming! [_A minute later he bursts open the door and -greets her, walks to the embroidery frame, pushes it into a corner, and -holds out his hand._] Into the sun, Elizabeth. - -_Elizabeth_ [_shyly_]. I have not my hood, my Lord. - -_Lennox._ Charles, Elizabeth! - -_Elizabeth._ Charles ... my Lord. - -_Lennox._ Into the woods, my Lady. What matters your hood? The sun -cannot fire your hair if you wear a hood! [_Draws her down the stairway. -At the foot of it she slips her hand from his, and they pass demurely -across the courtyard and out into the meadows, talking of light and -little things. From time to time Lennox sings snatches of song. The -larks trill overhead. They plunge into the woods._] - -_Elizabeth._ Oh, Charles, I feel as though I had grown lark’s wings ... -like your cap. - -_Lennox._ No, no. If you would grow into a bird, then I shall needs -become a fowler. - -_Elizabeth._ Nay, you shall have wings too. - -_Lennox._ Why have we not wings, Elizabeth? - -_Elizabeth_ [_looking up into the sky between the branches_]. God is -wise, Charles. And we have the beautiful warm earth and all the flowers -to joy us. Meseems it is more comfortable to talk upon the earth than in -the branches.... And to build our mansions on the earth, too. -Charles.... - -_Lennox._ Mansions? I hate them. Great chambers in which one must shiver -in cold state because one is poor, great chairs in which one must sit -very straight and look wise, great windows where the snow and rain beat -and trickle in, or little ones which bar the sun. In Scotland they are -like that, little and narrow in the great castles. I hate them. - -_Elizabeth_ [_proudly_]. In England we have great windows secure against -storms. You should see my mother’s house at Hardwick, Charles. It has -high windows. And so fair the house. And she says she will build one -there still greater and fairer. - -_Lennox._ But I desire no great house. You are little, I am not -great.... I want a little house, a bower.... - -_Elizabeth._ My Lord.... - -_Lennox_ [_with his arm about her_]. A bower with you, which I would -build out of the trees, my own self, like the knight who loved the lady. - -_Elizabeth._ Ah? Who was she? - -_Lennox._ A lady, like you, Elizabeth, and not much taller, so I take -it. I read of her in a little book. See ... here it is. [_Pulls a volume -out of the bosom of his jerkin._] My brother Darnley gave it me once. It -is a love tale, all in French, and very curious. - -_Elizabeth._ Read it to me, Charles. - -_Lennox._ Sweetheart, I cannot read it all because the words are so -strange, but my brother writ portions of the rightful meanings on the -margins.... Come ... let us sit.... [_He draws her to a place under the -trees._] - -_Elizabeth._ Charles ... I am afraid.... - -_Lennox._ Not with me.... - -_Elizabeth._ There are woodmen.... They go to and fro. - -_Lennox._ What of that? There are woodmen in the story—many. [_Opens the -book._] - -_Elizabeth._ Listen, I hear their axes—chip, chop. They are cutting into -pieces the lovely trees they felled in the spring. It is very sad. - -_Lennox._ Dear, you are sweetly foolish. They cannot hurt you. - -_Elizabeth_ [_sadly_]. So do they cut down the happy trees. - -_Lennox._ Happy to be cut down to build bowers for you and me.... -Listen.... [_Turns over the leaves._] She was a fairy maiden. - -_Elizabeth_ [_shocked_]. Oh! Then she said no prayers. - -_Lennox._ Her foster-father took her from the fairies, and what prayers -she missed she learnt at the feet of love. - -_Elizabeth._ Where did she first see her lover...? - -_Lennox._ How can I tell? He loved her from the beginning ... as I love -you. - -_Elizabeth._... The beginning? - -_Lennox._ Two days ago. - -_Elizabeth_ [_starting up_]. A woodman comes. [_He pulls her down -again._] - -_Lennox._ How can I tell the story if you run away? - -_Elizabeth._ Indeed ... I love to listen. - -_Lennox_ [_goes on rapidly_]. Well ... thus was it. These two loved ... -oh, terribly! And the father of the knight, a great count, parted them, -since the boy would not go fight against his country’s enemies except he -wedded the lady ... and the Count bid her foster-father shut her in a -prison so that she should weave no spells about him more. - -_Elizabeth._ This is too sad a story. [_Wipes her eyes._] - -_Lennox._ It was a very fair prison in a great castle, dearest.... And -she quickly escaped from it by her art. - -_Elizabeth._ Good, good! - -_Lennox._ But her love knew not where she went.... And he said to his -father, “If I trounce your foes in battle, let me but kiss my lady.” To -which the lord said “Yes.” But he kept not his word, and put the knight -in prison when he came home bruised and weary after battle. - -_Elizabeth._ Alack! - -_Lennox._ But she—she found the prison and sang through the window, and -cut her hair to throw into the chamber that he might remember her. - -_Elizabeth_ [_slyly_]. Like your cap, but just now, Charles. - -_Lennox._ Yes, yes.... And they called courage to one another till the -soldiers came and she hid for fear they should kill her.... And then she -walked far till she came to a great wood.... [_A woodman passes with his -axe._] - -_Elizabeth._ There is the axe, again. It minds me of—of death, Charles! - -_Lennox._ Dearest, it is only a foolish axe to chop your lady mother’s -fuel. - -_Elizabeth._ And how did the knight find his lady? - -_Lennox._ When the Count deemed the fairy lady gone for ever he let his -son the knight come out of the tower where he was, and feasted him. But -the lady dwelt in the woods and he knew it not. - -_Elizabeth_ [_indignant_]. He stayed to feast while she wandered in a -strange wood? - -_Lennox._ He stayed but little. And when he could he took his horse and -rode out and came to five roads which met.... Stay ... my brother writ -of these cross-roads. It is a pretty conceit he made. The one was called -“The World,” and another “The Wars,” a third was “Power,” and the -fourth ... see, can you read this? - -_Elizabeth._ “Riches.” And the next word is “Poverty.” - -_Lennox._ There he waited—perplexed. - -_Elizabeth._ Quick, quick! Which did he choose? - -_Lennox._ Faith, he tried them all save “Poverty.”... Yet when he would -travel down one or the other her voice called him back, and his horse -stood like stone till the knight trembled in the twilight and feared she -was all a fairy and no woman, but mocked him. And then from his bosom -there fell a sheaf of her hair. When he stooped to gather it, it grew -into a fine chain, the end whereof he could not see, and it closed about -his wrist like a bracelet and drew him to the road called “Poverty.” - -_Elizabeth._ Then, surely, he rode fast? - -_Lennox._ Horse and man were exceeding glad—so says the book ... because -of the noble road which opened before them.... And the moon and the sun -shone together upon them till at last they were come to a little house -of boughs twined with lilies.... Over the door was written, “Her Heart -and My Desire” ... and there he found his lady, singing fairy songs -because she knew that he was faithful.... [_Closes the book and bends -over her._] - -_Elizabeth_ [_softly_]. And there they stayed surely a little while. - -_Lennox._... To the end of the world.... - -_Elizabeth._... But the woodman came by with his axe to cut down the -bower. - -_Lennox._ Not in this tale. - -_Elizabeth._ The lilies faded. - -_Lennox._ They were fadeless. - -_Elizabeth._ They grew old ... and ... could not feel the sun.... - -_Lennox._ Never, never. - -_Elizabeth._ I would it were true, Charles. [_The sound of the axe again -interrupts them. There is laughter from men, who pass and repass and -point out the lovers to each other._] There! They have seen us—the rude -woodmen. We have no bower any more. [_Hurries away from the tree._] - -_Lennox_ [_in pursuit_]. What mean you by this “woodman”...? - -_Elizabeth_ [_holding out her hands for protection_]. I mean there ... -is no for ever.... They died, and the lilies and the branches died. Let -us go home ... Charles, hide me ... from the woodman! - -_Lennox._ Always, always! Elizabeth, stay with me. Do not ever go from -me. You ... you shall never die! - - [_He puts his cloak about her and they walk, closely knit, through the - meadows till they reach the Abbey. At the gates they slip apart and - go in demurely as before. The Countess looks through a window on to - the court over which they pass._] - -_Countess._ Bet, come instantly to your chamber! - -_Lennox_ [_saluting_]. My Lady, she cannot leave me. For so has she -promised. - -_Countess._ Lord, Lord! What have you done? - -_Elizabeth._ Lady mother, I ... - -_Countess._ Come in, come in, you sad fools. Every scullion will hear -you. [_The three meet on the staircase and the Countess motions them -austerely into the parlour._] - -_Countess_ [_to Lennox_]. I bid you stay far from Elizabeth. - -_Elizabeth._ Oh, mother, make no more feints. He loves me. If he goes -from me ... [_Her voice breaks._] - -_Lennox._ My Lady, she will go to the Border with me and into the world. - -_Countess_ [_with a cry of dismay_]. So, so.... “He loves me.”... “I -will go over the Border.”... And how shall a poor woman permit such -naughty contrivings! - -_Elizabeth._ Mother.... We are not naughty. I did not know he loved me -till ... till we spoke of a story.... And then ... it was very sweet, -mother ... till the woodmen came.... And I was frightened and ran, -and ... Charles bid me come home.... He says the woodman ... [_Turns to -Lennox for protection._] - -_Countess_ [_with a cry of anger_]. The woodmen. What is this of the -woodmen? - -_Elizabeth._ They mocked, and.... - -_Countess._ Lord, Lord!... What is to be done now...? You should both be -whipped. The woodmen to see you kissing and cozening under the trees? -The woodmen? And you a Cavendish! Stay you here till I have told the -Lady Lennox. Oh, oh, oh! that I should have such a tale for her.... - - [_At the sound of her voice Lady Lennox, roused, comes down the - corridor in her bedgown._] - -_Countess._ My Lady! - -_Lennox._ Mother.... - -_Lady Lennox._... I was affrighted. I thought you wept, my Lady. - -_Countess._ Matter for weeping, in truth. [_Points to Elizabeth and -Lennox, who stand together._] - -_Lady Lennox._ But ... how? [_Sinks into a chair._] - -_Countess_ [_vehemently_].... My Lady, ... these naughty children have -carried themselves no better than a pair of turtle-doves; and all in the -woods.... And the whole world knows it. My very woodmen ... low -fellows ... laughed!... Your son plots to carry my Elizabeth over the -Border an if she were a truss of hay! And she, the wretch, too, content -to be bundled that way ... any way ... so long as it be on his road! Oh! -my Lady, help us all, lest shame fall on my house. - -_Lennox_ [_defiant_]. No shame to love well, my Lady. Are there no -priests? And this an Abbey! - -_Lady Lennox._ Boy, go you to your room and leave me talk with my Lady -here. - -_Lennox._ I go with Elizabeth to the gallery. When you call, mother, we -will come.... [_Kisses her hand and goes out with Elizabeth._] - -_Lady Lennox._ A priest! There is time enough.... - -_Countess._ How do I know if they will not fly like birds together if we -say them “Nay”? - -_Lady Lennox._... The saints forbid!... - -_Countess_ [_quickly_]. The boy is wild ... for love makes wildlings of -men.... It is the only word of wisdom he has said ... that of the -priest. - -_Lady Lennox._ Great Heaven!... - -_Countess._ Young fools.... Yet, if we part them ... shall not our -consciences give us everlasting punishment? - -_Lady Lennox._ True, true.... The girl is very gentle, my Lady.... There -is a look in her eye that.... And he is very ripe for love. [_The -Countess punctuates her speeches with sympathetic gestures._] And I have -seen much sorrow, and the House of Lennox dies ... with Charles. - -_Countess._ Come ... let us not talk of death ... but look properly upon -this matter and devise, instead of funerals, weddings. Come, my sweet -friend, dear Lady ... to your chamber.... Rest, and let us comfort one -another.... Come! [_She supports Lady Lennox out of the room._] - - - - - CHAPTER X - AFTERMATH - - -There was, as the two mothers agreed, but one way out of it all—a speedy -marriage. No time to invite the blessing of the bride’s stepfather, no -time for signing of deeds, or for collecting bride-gear, or for endowing -boy and girl with house and lands. These things would as well be done -afterwards as now, and a pompous family wedding in the Shrewsbury -household would just now have been attended with all sorts of -difficulties. Without more ado the matter was settled, and the actual -wedding seems to have taken place at Rufford in the presence of only a -very few persons. Indeed, in the words of one historian, the pair -“married almost as soon as Lady Lennox was able to leave her bedroom.” -It has been suggested by the same writer that the two dowagers, in -aiding and abetting the marriage, were at cross purposes. It is certain -that Lady Shrewsbury had met her match in character, purpose, and -ability in intrigue. She could not have been able to persuade Margaret -Lennox in the affair against her will and conscience. Henderson -elaborates the suggestion thus: “The motive of Lady Lennox was probably -reconciliation with the Queen of Scots, through the new connection -formed with the Shrewsburys. If Elizabeth died—and there was a general -impression that she would not live long—Mary might very possibly succeed -her; and though Lady Lennox thought it prudent to assert to Elizabeth -that she never could have dealings with the Queen of Scots, since, being -flesh and blood, she could not forget the murder of her child, yet she -did not wish to debar herself from all further favour from the possible -Queen of England, who was also the mother of her grandchild (i.e. James -of Scotland). As for Mary, nothing could suit her better than a -reconciliation with Lady Lennox, since it would mean the renewal of -support from many Catholics who had been estranged from her by the -circumstances attending the death of Darnley. In any case, whatever -Mary’s part in the accomplishment of the marriage, and whether any -understanding was then arrived at by her with Lady Lennox or not, Mary, -after the death of Lady Lennox in 1578, affirmed that she had been -reconciled to her for five or six years, and that Lady Lennox sent her -letters expressing regret at the wrong she had done her in the -accusations she had been induced to make against her, at the instance of -Elizabeth and her Council.”[28] - -This is, however, a part of future history. The facts show that Mary -seems to have had no hand in the marriage, and we cannot imagine that -after carefully balancing all possibilities Lady Shrewsbury would have -invited her interest. The whole thing would have been revealed and -exaggerated by spies, and thus assume the form of a very serious plot. -Lady Lennox certainly trusted to Elizabeth’s credence in her old enmity -against her daughter-in-law to clear her from blame. Lady Shrewsbury -doubtless pretended to herself that she could not be justly accused of a -grab at royal rights, on behalf of her family, since Scotland had -already its King and it was open to England to name a successor. La -Mothe Fénélon, the French Ambassador, feared that the Lennox intimacy -would estrange the Shrewsburys from Mary, and so make her case harder. -The very contrary happened, as the correspondence reveals. - -For the moment we are concerned with the days immediately following that -sudden ceremony at Rufford. Details of the itinerary of the bridal pair -are not forthcoming, neither does it appear where the older Lady Lennox -went after her momentous visit, nor whether young Elizabeth and her -husband took shelter with her mother or his. News of the event did not -reach the Queen till fully a month later. Instantly she scented treason. -Here was a chance for her to behave once more after the pattern of her -autocratic father. She belaboured the Earl of Shrewsbury, and despatched -to both dowagers and the bride and bridegroom a summons to Court. - -Lord Shrewsbury, who in these days scarcely ever put pen to paper except -to expostulate, explain, and apologise, wrote three separate letters on -the subject—to the Queen, to Burghley, and to Lord Leicester. It will -suffice to quote the two first:— - - - “May it please your excellent Majesty, - -“The commandment your Majesty once gave me, that I should sometimes -write to you, although I had little to write of, boldeneth me thus to -presume, rather to avoid blame of negligence than dare tarry long for -any matter worthy your Majesty’s hearing; only this I may write; it is -greatly to my comfort to hear your Majesty passed your progress in -perfect health and so do continue. I pray to Almighty God to hold it -many years, and long after my days ended; so shall your people find -themselves most happy. - -“This Lady, my charge, is safe at your Majesty’s commandment. - -“And, may it further please your Majesty, I understood of late your -Majesty’s displeasure is sought against my wife, for marriage of her -daughter to my Lady Lennox’s son. I must confess to your Majesty, as -true it is, it was dealt in suddenly, and without my knowledge; but as I -dare undertake and ensure to your Majesty, for my wife, she, finding her -daughter disappointed of young Barté, where she hoped that the other -young gentleman was inclined to love with a few days’ acquaintance, did -her best to further her daughter in this match; without having therein -any other intent or respect than with reverend duty towards your Majesty -she ought. I wrote of this matter to my Lord Leicester a good while ago -at great length. I hid nothing from him that I knew was done about the -same, and thought not meet to trouble your Majesty therewith, because I -took it to be of no such importance as to write of, until now that I am -urged by such as I see will not forbear to devise and speak what may -procure any suspicion, or doubtfulness of my service here. But as I have -always found your Majesty my good and gracious Sovereign, so do I -comfort myself that your wisdom can find out right well what causes move -them thereunto, and therefore am not afraid of any doubtful opinion, or -displeasure to remain with your Majesty of me, or of my wife, whom your -highness and your council have many ways tried in times of most danger. -We never had any thought or respect but as your Majesty’s most true and -faithful servants; and so do truly serve and faithfully love and honour -your Majesty, ever praying to Almighty God for your Majesty, as we are -in duty bounden. - - “SHEFFIELD, _2nd of December, 1574_.” - - -The other letter is headed:— - - - “To My Lord Tre...., - -“My very good Lord, for that I am advertised the late marriage of my -wife’s daughter is not well taken in the Court, and thereupon are some -conjectures more than well, brought to her Majesty’s ears, in ill part -against my wife; I have a little touched the same in my letters now to -her Majesty, referring further knowledge thereof to letters I sent my -Lord of Leicester a good while since, wherein I made a long discourse of -that matter; and if your Lordship meet with anything thereof that -concerns my wife or me, and sounds in ill part against us, let me crave -of your Lordship so much favour as to speak your knowledge and opinion -of us both. No man is able to say so much as your Lordship of our -service because you have so carefully searched it, with great respect to -the safe keeping of my charge. So I take leave of your Lordship. - - “SHEFFIELD, _2nd December, 1574_.” - - -These letters did not help matters in the slightest. The two Countesses -were obliged to go to Court for chastisement, and apparently Bess -Shrewsbury repaired thither before any interview could be secured with -her husband. Nor have any letters from her been found to show whether -she was awestruck or defiant, though correspondence must have passed -between wife and husband upon a matter so urgent. - -The fateful northern journey took place about October 9th. Queen -Elizabeth’s summons was dated November 17th, and reached the delinquents -within a few days. Lady Lennox, who, in her royal capacity and as mother -of the bridegroom, may legally be regarded as the prime offender, -followed Lord Shrewsbury’s example of explanation and expostulation. -She, too, wrote promptly to Lords Burghley and Leicester:—[29] - - - “My very good Lord, - -“Assuring myself of your friendship I will use but few words at this -present, other than to let you understand of my wearisome journey and -the heavy burden of the Queen’s Majesty’s displeasure, which I know well -I have not deserved, together with a letter of small comfort that I -received from my Lord of Leicester, which being of your Lordship read, I -shall desire to be returned to me again. I also send unto your Lordship, -here enclosed, the copy of my letter now sent to my Lord of Leicester; -and I beseech you to use your friendship towards me as you see time. -Thus with my hearty commendations, I commit you to Almighty God, whom I -beseech to send you long life to your heart’s desire. Huntingdon this 3 -of December. - - “Your Lordship’s assured loving friend, - “MARGARET LENNOX. - -“To the Right Honourable my very good Lord and friend, the -Lord-Treasurer of England.” - - -It is unfortunate that one of the enclosures, the letter from Leicester, -is not to be found, for it would have been interesting to read that -gentleman for once in a mood that was not suave and reassuring. - -The letter to Leicester gives a graphic description of her uncomfortable -journey across flooded country:—[30] - - - “HUNTINGDON, _December 3, 1574_. - -“My very good Lord,—The great unquietness and trouble that I have had -with passing these dangerous waters, which hath many times enforced me -to leave my way, which hath been some hindrance to me that hitherto I -have not answered your Lordship’s letters chiefly on that point wherein -your Lordship, with other my friends (as your Lordship says) seems -ignorant how to answer for me. And being forced to stay this present -Friday in Huntingdon, somewhat to refresh myself, and my overlaboured -mules, that are both crooked and lame with their extreme labour by the -way, I thought good to lay open to your Lordship, in these few lines, -what I have to say for me, touching my going to Rufford to my Lady of -Shrewsbury, both being thereunto very earnestly requested, and the place -not one mile distant out of my way. Yea, and a much fairer way, as is -well to be proved; and my Lady meeting me herself upon the way, I could -not refuse, it being near XXX miles from Sheffield. And as it was well -known to all the country thereabouts that great provision was there made -both for my Lady of Suffolk and me—who friendly brought me on the way to -Grantham, and so departed home again, neither she nor I knowing any such -thing till the morning after I came to Newark. And so I meant simply and -well, so did I least mistrust that my doings should be taken in evil -part, for, at my coming from her Majesty, I perceived she misliked of my -Lady of Suffolk being at Chatsworth, I asked her Majesty if I were -bidden thither, for that had been my wonted way before if I might go. -She prayed me not, lest it should be thought I should agree with the -Queen of Scots. And I asked her Majesty, if she could think so, for I -was made of flesh and blood, and could never forget the murder of my -child. And she said, ‘Marry, by her faith she could not think so that -ever I could forget it, for if I would I were a devil.’ Now, my Lord, -for that hasty marriage of my son, Charles, after that he had entangled -himself so that he could have none other, I refer the same to your -Lordship’s good consideration, whether it was not most fitly for me to -marry them, he being mine only son and comfort that is left me. And your -Lordship can bear me witness how desirous I have been to have had a -match for him other than this. And the Queen’s Majesty, much to my -comfort, to that end gave me good words at my departure.” - - -There were other letters from her repeating the statements about her -careful avoidance of Chatsworth and Sheffield, the helpless position in -which she was placed by “the sudden affection” of her son, and begging -for the Queen’s compassion “on my widowed estate, being aged and of many -cares.” - -She reached Court on December 12th, and was accorded such a reception -that La Mothe Fénélon thought it worth while to include, in his -despatches to France, her fears and apprehensions. He records her dread -of her old prison, the Tower, and her hope that she may escape at least -that indignity through the influence of good friends. She went meekly to -her house at Hackney, with Charles and Elizabeth Lennox, who had -scarcely learnt the meaning of the word honeymoon. There the three, -forbidden to leave the precincts of the house, spent a joyless -Christmas, while, in lieu of a royal festival greeting, Christmas Eve -brought them Elizabeth’s orders that they were to have intercourse only -with such persons as were named by the Privy Council. Immediately after -Christmas the door of the Tower gaped and swallowed the Lennox dowager. -To the Tower also, it seems, was sent her confederate. The comments of -Bess of Shrewsbury have not been chronicled. But she probably remembered -keenly enough the days when as “Sentlow” she had the sense to keep out -of any active participation in the marriage of Lady Catherine Grey. Her -thoughts in retrospect could not have been very pleasant, and genuine -fears for the fate of her young and easily-led daughter must have -jostled fears for her own skin. - -As for Lady Lennox, her sensations were still more poignant. “Thrice -have I been cast into prison,” said she, “not for matters of treason, -but for love matters. First, when Thomas Howard, son to Thomas first -Duke of Norfolk, was in love with myself; then for the love of Henry -Darnley, my son, to Queen Mary of Scotland; and lastly for the love of -Charles, my younger son, to Elizabeth Cavendish.” - -It was just after Christmas that Lord Shrewsbury again bestirred himself -and applied to Burghley, though he ostensibly does it less on behalf of -his wife than of Lady Lennox. - - - “My very good Lord, - -“Upon my Lady Lennox’s earnest request, as to your Lordship I am sure -shall appear, I have written to my Lords of the Council all I can find -out of her behaviour towards this Queen and dealing when she was in -these north parts; and if some disallowed of my writing (as I look they -will, because they would have it thought that I should have enough to do -to answer for myself) let such ...[31] reprove, or find any ...[31] -respect to her Majesty in me or my wife is sought for, and then there is -some cause to reprehend me, and for them to call out against me as they -do. I take that Lady Lennox be a subject in all respects worthy the -Queen’s Majesty’s favour, and for the duty I bear to her Majesty I am -bound, methinks, to commend her so as I find her; yea, and to intreat -you, and all of my Lords of the Council for her, to save her from -blemish, if no offence can be found in her towards her Majesty. I do not -nor can find the marriage of that Lady’s son to my wife’s daughter can -any way be taken with indifferent judgment, be any offence or -contemptuous to her Majesty; and then, methinks, that benefit any -subject may by law claim might be permitted to any of mine as well. But -I must be plain with your Lordship. It is not the marriage matter nor -the hatred some bear to my Lady Lennox, my wife, or to me, that makes -this great ado and occupies heads with so many devices. It is a greater -matter; which I leave to conjecture, not doubting but your Lordship’s -wisdom hath foreseen it, and thereof had due consideration, as always -you have been most careful for it. - -“I have no more to trouble your Lordship withal, but that I would not -have her Majesty think, if I could see any cause to imagine any intent -of liking or insinuation with this Queen the rather to grow by this -marriage, or any other inconvenience might come thereby to her Majesty, -that I could or would bear with it, or hide it from her Majesty, for -that Lady’s sake, or for my wife, or any other cause else; for besides -the faith I bear her Majesty, with a singular love I look not by any -means but by her Majesty only to be made better than I am; nor by any -change to hold that I have—so take my leave of your Lordship. - -“Sheffield Castle (where my charge is safe), the 27th of December, 1574. - -“Your Lordship’s assured friend to my power, - - “G. SHREWSBURY.” - - -This letter is dignified, slightly defiant—claiming common justice for -his people, as “any subject” may do—and doggedly loyal. He is no -opportunist, and for any improvement in his fortunes he looks to -Elizabeth only. He has acted whole-heartedly and with a single mind. He -has tendered to the Lords of the Council all possible details which -would assist in clearing Lady Lennox from imputations in regard to -co-operation with Mary of Scotland. He fully recognises that this is the -“greater matter” which “occupies heads with so many devices” and wherein -lies the crux of the affair. He knew that a long official enquiry was -inevitable. This took the form of a special Court under the Earl of -Huntingdon, whom Mary of Scots and the Earl alike detested. The choice -of him as grand inquisitor must have been the more galling just now, -because reports were rife that this rash marriage had finally decided -the Queen to supersede Lord Shrewsbury as incapable and unworthy of her -reliance. Such rumours were always a part of her policy. She knew -perfectly well who was most useful to her, and she was not going to -relax her grip upon Shrewsbury, his endurance, his loyalty, his houses, -and his income. - -Lord Huntingdon’s enquiry went forward, and both ladies were ultimately -acquitted of “large treasons.” If the gaoler-soldier Earl did not give -his wife a sound verbal drubbing for endangering the peace of his whole -house in so gratuitous a fashion it would be strange. From the very -first, in spite of his assurances to the Queen, he must have scented his -lady’s ambition with regard to any possible semi-royal offspring of the -Rufford marriage. The matter weighed on him greatly in after life. One -can only assume that his Bess at this period lost her sense of -perspective, and that in one sense her noted long-headedness deserted -her. The enquiry over, the principal offenders, crushed and humble (Lady -Lennox at all events seemed so), retired to their homes. It is mentioned -that the royal order giving Lady Shrewsbury her freedom included -permission for her to repair to the baths at Buxton, a change of air -which must have been extremely salutary after the poor ventilation of -the Tower of London, even under the less rigorous conditions accorded to -prisoners of quality. - -By the middle of May, Lady Lennox was once more at her Hackney house. A -visit to Buxton waters for her was out of the question, both as regards -policy and expense. At Hackney she rested, very much out of the world -and very poor, with her gentle little daughter-in-law and son, who spent -the first year of their married life in a tolerably morose atmosphere of -suspicion and unpopularity. They had, of course, a few visitors. Gilbert -Talbot, who seems always to have been the spokesman of the family, and -to have kept in touch with its various members, records the impression -made by the Lennoxes on a certain “Mr. Tyndall,” who subsequently -carried letters down to Derbyshire to the mother of Elizabeth Lennox:— - - -“This bearer, Mr. Tyndall, was at Hackney, where he found them there -well. And I trust very shortly that the dregs of all misconstruction -will be wiped away, that their abode there after this sort will be -altered.” - - -This means that the inmates were socially taboo and were still kept -“within bounds.” - -In July of the same year there is a most pathetic little letter from the -girl-wife Elizabeth, by this time in a fair way to produce an heir for -the perishing house of Lennox. She makes no allusion to the fact in this -piteous and formal little note to the mother who used her for family -purposes much in the same way as she used a stone for the building of -her other “workes.” The cause of the displeasure which the writer seeks -to disarm is inexplainable. Elizabeth Cavendish was exactly the opposite -in character to her mother, or her mother’s eldest daughter Mary, wife -of Gilbert Talbot. The latter—of whom more presently—was a hot-tempered, -vindictive, energetic creature, with plenty of intelligence. Elizabeth -Cavendish was gentle, unassuming, tender-hearted. She would certainly -take the line of least resistance. This is the letter:—[32] - - -“My humble duty remembered: beseeching your L. of your daily blessings: -presuming of your motherlike affection towards me your child that trust -I have not so evilly deserved as your La. hath made show, by your -letters to others, which maketh me doubtful that your La. hath been -informed some great untruth of me or else I had well hoped that for some -small trifle I should not have continued in your displeasure so long a -time. And I might be so bold as to crave at your La. hands that it would -please you to extreme[33] such false bruits as your La. hath heard -reported of me as lightly as you have done when othere were in the like -case, I should think myself much the more bound to your La. I beseech -you make my hearty commendations to my aunt. I take my leave in humble -wise. - -“Hackney, 25th of July. - - “Your La. humble and Obedient daughter, - “E. LENOX. - - “To the right honourable the Countess - of Shrewsbury my very good mother.” - - -At all events, the mother’s displeasure must have melted upon the birth -of her Lennox grandchild. Unhappily for the ambitious Bess, this was not -a son but a girl, christened Arabella, who was afterwards to play her -part in just such a tragi-comedy of ambition, Court pageant, and -luckless marriage as befell her grandmother Margaret Lennox, and the -Ladies Catherine and Mary Grey. Had the child been a boy Queen Elizabeth -might have been less inclined to clemency. Her sex, her helplessness, -the poverty of her father’s house, and the dangerous and delicate -condition of his health were all inducements to the Queen’s compassion, -and also rendered the babe a useful item in the plans of the “Mistress -Builder.” Her birth, of course, brought the Shrewsburys into an oddly -contradictory relationship towards Mary of Scotland, who always showed -the tenderest interest in the child. It must also have assisted to -complete the better understanding between Darnley’s mother and widow. -Already they had drawn closer in a mutual dread lest, since the -assassination of the old Earl of Lennox, the evil practices of the -present Regent, Lord Morton, should injure the young James of Scotland. -Lady Lennox’s letter to Mary from Hackney, dated November 10th, 1575, -makes their reconciliation very clear:— - - -“It may please your Majesty, I have received your letters and mind both -by your letters and otherwise, much to my comfort specially perceiving -what jealous natural care your Majesty hath of our sweet and peerless -jewel in Scotland. I have been as fearful and as careful as your Majesty -of him, so that the wicked governor should not have power to do harm to -his person, whom God preserve from his enemies. I beseech your Majesty -fear not, but trust in God all shall be well. The treachery of your -traitors is evidently no better than before. I shall always play my part -to your Majesty’s content so as may tend to both our comforts. And now I -must yield your Majesty my most humble thanks for your good remembrance -and bounty to our little daughter, her who some day may serve your -highness. Almighty God grant unto your Majesty a long and happy life. - - “Your Majesty’s most humble and - loving mother and aunt, - “MARGARET LENNOX.” - - -The “little daughter” is surely the young Elizabeth Lennox (_née_ -Cavendish), who adds this postscript to the letter:— - - -“I most humbly thank your Majesty that it pleased you to remember me, -your poor servant, both with a token and in my La. Gr.’s letter,[34] -which is not little to my comfort. I can but wish and pray God for your -Majesty’s long and happy estate.... I may do your Majesty better -service, which I think long to do, and shall always be as ready thereto -as any servant your Majesty hath, according as by duty I am bound. I -beseech your highness to pardon these rude lines, and accept the good -heart of the writer, who loves and honours your Majesty unfeignedly. - -“Your Majesty’s most humble and lowly servant through life, - - “E. LENNOX.” - - -Now the above convincing and pathetic letter of the dowager Lady Lennox, -it seems, never reached Mary; but fortunately for Mary’s reputation and -as proof of the accord between her and her mother-in-law with regard to -the marriage and other matters, has been preserved. - -Two years later, 1577, Queen and mother-in-law were toiling to get the -Scottish prince away from the “wicked governor,” and Mary says of Lady -Lennox, “I praise God that she becomes daily more sensible of the -faithlessness and evil intentions of those whom she previously assisted -with her name against me.” - - - - - CHAPTER XI - VARIOUS OCCURRENCES - - -The Shrewsbury pair started the year 1575 in different fashion. She was -in the Tower and not at all in a happy mood. He also in a -fortress—Sheffield—but as warder and not prisoner, and more unhappy, -because in the larger things he was always the more conscientious, yet -bestirred himself to send a diplomatic present of rich gold plate to -Lord Burghley, and was himself in the usual manner the recipient of -bounties from his friends and tenants. Burghley acknowledges the present -and his indebtedness in highly satisfactory terms to the master of -Sheffield Castle:— - - -“And now, my Lord, I find such continuance or rather increase, of your -good will to me, by your costly gift of plate this new year, as you may -account me greatly in your debt and yet ready with my heart and service -to acquit you. I humbly therefore pray your Lordship to make proof of my -good will where my power may answer the same, and I trust you shall find -the best disposed debtor that your Lordship hath to acquit my debt.” - - -Lodge prints immediately before this letter from the Lord Treasurer a -fragment (also from the Talbot manuscripts) in which Lord Shrewsbury -lays his financial case emphatically before the Queen, and there is no -doubt that his appeal and the present of gold plate to her Lord -Treasurer were incidents closely related:— - - -“Your Majesty was minded to allow me for the keeping of this Lady but -£30 a week. When I received her into my charge at your Majesty’s hands, -I understood very well it was a most dangerous service, and thought -overhard to perform, without some great mischief to himself at least, -and as it seemed most hard and fearful to others and every man shrunk -from it, so much the gladder was I to take it upon me, thereby to make -appear to your Majesty my zealous mind to serve you in place of greatest -peril; and I thought it was the best proof your Majesty could make of -me. I demanded not great allowance, nor did stick for anything as all -men used to do. My Lords of your Council, upon good deliberation, -assigned by your Majesty’s commandment, a portion of £52 every week -(less by the half than your Majesty paid before she came to me) which I -took, and would not in that doubtful time have refused your Majesty’s -service of trust so committed to me, if my lands and life had lain -thereon; and how I have passed my service, and accomplished your trust -committed to me, with quiet, surety——” - - -That sudden break in the appeal, whatever its cause, has its own -dramatic force. - -As regards Court matters, a long letter from Francis Talbot, the eldest -son, who apparently wrote so rarely, belongs to the beginning of this -year. It gives a picture of Queen Elizabeth in a mood of anxiety, -depression, and perplexity in regard to foreign politics, especially -touching the all-important decision as to whether or not she should -accept the offer of the suzerainty of the Netherland States:— - - -“Her Majesty is troubled with these causes which maketh her very -melancholy; and seemeth greatly to be out of quiet. What shall be done -in these matters as yet is unknown, but here are ambassadors of all -sides who labour greatly one against another.” - - -To this year also belongs a kindly letter—this time on purely family -matters—from the wife of Francis Talbot, Lady Ann, _née_ Herbert, -daughter of William, Earl Pembroke, to the Countess of Shrewsbury. In -this the forthcoming “prograce” is mentioned, and the visit of Queen -Elizabeth to the then Countess of Pembroke, her sister-in-law, _née_ -Catherine Talbot, and married to Henry, Earl Pembroke:— - - -“Good Madame, I am to crave pardon for not writing to my Lord’s man -Harry Grace. The cause I willed him to declare to your La. which was the -extremity that my sister of Pembroke was in at that time; which hath -continued till Thursday last. Since that day she hath been out of her -swooning, but not able to stand or go. Her greatest grief is now want of -sleep, and not able to away with the sight of meat; but considering her -estate before we think ourselves happy of this change, hoping that -better will follow shortly. The Queen Majesty hath been here with her -twice; very late both times. The last time it was ten of the clock at -night ere her Majesty went hence, being so great a mist as there were -divers of the barges and boats that waited for her lost their ways, and -landed in wrong places, but thanks be to God her Majesty came well home -without cold or fear. For the holding of the progress I am sure your La. -heareth; for my part I can write no certainty, but as I am in all other -matters, as I have always professed and as duty doth bind me, ready at -your La. command; and in anything I may show it either at this time or -when occasion serveth, if I be not as willing thereto as any child of -your own, then let me be condemned according to my deserts; otherwise I -humbly crave your La. good opinion of me not to decrease, remembering -your La. commandment heretofore, to write to you as often as I could, -which now in this place I shall have better means than I have had in the -country, and thereupon presuming to lengthen my letter upon any -occasion, although I count this of my sister very evil news, yet -considering her recovery, I hope my long scribbling will the less -trouble your La. And so with my most humble duty of my Lord and your La. -I humbly take my leave. From Baynards Castle the 8th of May. - -“Your La. assured loving daughter to command, - - “ANNE TALBOT. - -“My sister of Pembroke hath willed to remember her humble duty to my -Lord and you, with desire of his daily blessing. As soon as she is able -she will do it herself. - - “To the right honourable and my assured good Lady - and mother, the Countess of Shrewsbury.” - - -That “my sister Pembroke” recovered from her swoonings and her -convalescence is stated at the close of a long letter from Gilbert -Talbot, in February, to both his parents. - -During the whole of the spring the Earl’s correspondence was large. Sir -Francis Walsingham and others kept him informed of all State events and -possibilities which could affect politics. In a paper which the Earl -endorses “Occurrences, from Mr. Secretary Walsingham” is contained the -news of the disappearance from the French Court of Henry of Navarre, the -overtures made to him by the French King, the gradual increase of his -adherents among the Protestants, the multifarious schemes of the Duke of -Guise, and all the details which made for civil war. The belief in magic -seems to have had sufficient hold upon a statesman like Walsingham to -induce him to include a note such as this:— - - -“There is secret report, and that very constantly affirmed by men of -credit, that a day or two before the King of Navarre departed, it -happened the Duke of Guise and him to play at dice, upon a very smooth -board, in the King’s cabinet; and that, after they had done, there -appeared suddenly upon the board certain great and round drops of blood -that astonished them marvellously, finding no cause in the blood of the -world, but, as it were, a very prodigy.” - - -Another letter of this year is very interesting, as it shows the -indefatigable Lady Shrewsbury once more at her match-making, and once -again seeking to ally her family with one which could most assist it at -Court—the family of Lord Burghley. Lord Shrewsbury’s letter making the -proposal as suggested by his wife is not forthcoming, but Lord -Burghley’s reply is full and detailed, and breathes caution in every -word. His excuses for declining the offer are quite reasonable. At the -same time he must have had sufficient insight into her Ladyship’s -masterful character to strengthen his refusal. He accentuates his fear -of the Queen’s distrust by instancing the absurd reports circulated -about him when he merely went to Buxton to drink the waters, and he -concludes with a quaintly sententious condemnation of “human learning” -in wishing well to the boy whom he did not desire for his son-in-law. - - -“My very good Lord,—My most hearty and due commendations done, I cannot -sufficiently express in words the inward hearty affection that I -conceive by your Lordship’s friendly offer of the marriage of your -younger son; and that in such a friendly sort, by your own letter, and -as your Lordship writes, the same proceeding of yourself. Now, my Lord, -as I think myself much beholden to you for this your Lordship’s -kindness, and manifest argument of a faithful goodwill, so must I pray -your Lordship to accept mine answer, with assured opinion of my -continuance in the same towards your Lordship. There are specially two -causes why I do not in plain terms consent by way of conclusion hereto; -the one, for that my daughter is but young in years; and upon some -reasonable respects, I have determined (notwithstanding I have been very -honourably offered matches) not to treat of marrying her, if I may live -so long, until she be above fifteen or sixteen, and if I were of more -likelihood myself to live longer than I look to do, she should not, with -my liking, be married before she were near eighteen or twenty. The -second cause why I differ to yield to conclusion with your Lordship is -grounded upon such a consideration as, if it were not truly to satisfy -your Lordship, and to avoid a just offence which your Lordship might -conceive of my forbearing, I would not by writing or message utter, but -only by speech to your Lordship’s self. My Lord, it is over true and -over much against reason that upon my being at Buxton last, advantage -was sought by some that loved me not to confirm in her Majesty a former -conceit which had been laboured to put into her head, that I was of late -become friendly to the Queen of Scots, and that I had no disposition to -encounter her practices; and now at my being at Buxton, her Majesty did -directly conceive that my being there was, by means of your Lordship and -my Lady, to enter into intelligence with the Queen of Scots; and hereof -at my return to her Majesty’s presence I had very sharp reproofs for my -going to Buxton with plain charging of me for favouring the Queen of -Scots; and that in so earnest a sort I never looked for, knowing my -integrity to her Majesty; but especially knowing how contrariously the -Queen of Scots conceived of me for many things past to the offence of -the Queen of Scots. And yet, true it is, I never indeed gave just cause -by any private affection of my own, or for myself, to offend the Queen -of Scots; but whatsoever I did was for the services of mine own -sovereign Lady and Queen, which if it were yet again to be done I would -do. And though I know myself subject to contrary workings of displeasure -yet will I not, for remedy of any of them both, decline from the duty I -owe to God and my sovereign Queen; for I know and do understand, that I -am in this contrary sort maliciously depraved, and yet in secret sort; -on the one part, and that of long time, that I am the most dangerous -enemy and evil willer to the Queen of Scots; on the other side that I am -also a secret well willer to her and her title, and that I have made my -party good with her. Now, my Lord, no man can make both these true -together; but it sufficeth such as like not me in doing my duty to -deprave me, and yet in such sort is done in darkness, as I cannot get -opportunity to convince them in the light. In all these crossings, my -good Lord, I appeal to God who knoweth, yea (I thank him infinitely), -who directeth my thoughts to intend principally the service and honour -of God, and jointly with it the surety and greatness of my sovereign -Lady the Queen’s Majesty; and for any other respect but it may tend to -those two, I appeal to God to punish me if I have any. As for the Queen -of Scots, truly I have no spot of evil meaning to her. Neither do I mean -to deal with any titles to the Crown. If she shall intend any evil to -the Queen’s Majesty, my sovereign, for her sake I must and will mean to -impeach her; and therein I may be her unfriend, or worse. - -“Well now, my good Lord, your Lordship seeth I have made a long -digression from my answer, but I trust your Lordship can consider what -moveth me thus to digress. Surely it behoveth me not only to live -uprightly, but to avoid all probable arguments that may be gathered to -render me suspected to her Majesty whom I serve with all dutifulness and -sincerity; and therefore I gather this, that if it were understood that -there were a communication or a purpose of marriage between your -Lordship’s son and my daughter I am sure there would be an advantage -sought to increase these former suspicions. Considering the young years -of our two children ... if the matter were fully agreed betwixt us, the -parents, the marriage could not take effect, I think it best to refer -the motion in silence, and yet so to order it with ourselves that, when -time shall hereafter be more convenient, we may (and then also with less -cause of vain suspicion) renew it. And in the meantime I must confess -myself much bounden to your Lordship ... wishing your Lordship’s son all -the good education may be meet to teach him to fear God, love your -Lordship, his natural father, and to know his friends; without any -curiosity of human learning, which, without the fear of God, I see doeth -great hurt to all youth in this time and age. My Lord, I pray you bear -with me scribbling, which I think your Lordship shall hardly read, and -yet I would not use my man’s hand in such a matter as this. - -“From Hampton Court, 24th December, 1575. - -“Your Lordship’s most assured commandment, - - “W. BURGHLEY.” - - -The boy in question was Edward Talbot, the Earl’s fourth son. His -matrimonial chances did not suffer by this just refusal, for in after -years he married one of the twin heiresses of Lord Ogle of -Northumberland, and eventually, after the death of his two elder -brothers, succeeded to his father’s earldom. - -A single bill of items of the Earl’s expenditure in the year 1575 -amounting to £300 is of a nature which shows how many and extensive were -the purchases justifying his constant appeals to the Treasury. All these -items he had to import from France by special messenger. Hogshead after -hogshead of French wine was required for Mary’s use. Her household drank -it in preference to the heavier English brew of ale. Moreover, she was -accustomed to use it for her bath, especially when indisposed. Buckram -and canvas, damask and sheeting, vinegar and live quails (“with cages -for the said quails”), paper and hempseed, “comfitures and other -sugar-works,” and even “fourteen pounds of sleyed silk for my Lady, -being of all colours,” go to this long bill of goods from Rouen. - -My Lady meanwhile was properly reinstated in the English Queen’s -confidence. It would please Bess Shrewsbury well to know that this -letter from the Earl of Leicester, written early in 1576 to her husband, -has come down to posterity:— - - -“My Lord,—For that this bearer is so well known and trusted of you I -will leave to trouble you with any long letters, and do commit the more -to his report, for that he is well able to satisfy your Lordship fully -of all things here. And, touching one part of your letter sent lately to -me, about the access of my Lady, your wife, to the Queen there, I find -the Queen’s Majesty well pleased that she may repair at all times, and -not forbear the company of that Queen, having not only very good opinion -of my Lady’s wisdom and discretion, but thinks how convenient it is for -that Queen to be accompanied and pass the time rather with my Lady than -meaner persons. I doubt not but your Lordship shall hear in like sort -also from her Majesty touching the same, and yet I may well signify thus -much, as from herself, to your Lordship. The rest I commend to this -bearer, and your Lordship, with my good Lady, to the Almighty. In haste, -this first of May. - - “Your Lordship’s assured kinsman, - “R. LEICESTER.” - - -Soon after, in June, Lord Shrewsbury, at Buxton with his “charge,” asks -that he may remove her, not to Tutbury as suggested, but back to -Sheffield Lodge. There was a “bruit” that Lord Leicester was going to -Buxton for the waters, and it was necessary, seeing that his going would -probably attract others in the world of fashion, not to allow Mary to -linger at the baths. A letter from Gilbert Talbot, in July, 1576, full -of the usual delightful chit-chat about Queen and Court, mentions the -Buxton expedition in connection with the magnificent Leicester:— - - -“My duty most humbly remembered, right honourable my singular good Lord -and father. Since my coming hither to the Court there hath been sundry -determinations of her Majesty’s progress this summer. Yesterday it was -set down that she would go to Grafton[35] and Northampton, Leicester, -and to Ashby, my Lord Huntingdon’s house, and there to have remained -twenty-one days, to the end the water of Buxton might have been daily -brought thither for my Lord of Leicester, or any other, to have used; -but late yesternight this purpose altered, and now at this present her -Majesty thinketh to go no further than Grafton; howbeit there is no -certainty, for these two or three days it hath changed every five hours. -The physicians have fully resolved that wheresoever my Lord Leicester be -he must drink and use Buxton water twenty days together. My Lady Essex -and my Lady Sussex will be shortly at Buxton, and my Lady Norris shortly -after; I cannot learn of any others that come from hence. - -“This day Mr. Secretary Walsingham has gotten the Bill signed for the S. -Q.’s diet, and to-morrow early it shall be sent to the Exchequer, that -as soon as possible we may receive the money, which shall be disposed -according to your Lordship’s commandment in payment of all your debts -here. - -“I have bespoken two pair of little flagons, for there are none ready -made, and I fear they will not be finished before my departure hence. I -have seen many fair hangings, and your Lordship may have all prices, -either two shillings a stick or seven groats, three, four, five, or six -shillings the stick, even as your Lordship will bestow; but there is of -five shillings the stick that is very fair. But unless your Lordship -send up a measure of what depth and breadth you would have them, surely -they will not be to your Lordship’s liking; for the most of them are -very shallow, and I have seen none that I think deep enough for a guest -chamber, but for lodgings. - -“I have had some talk with my Lord of Leicester since my coming, whom I -find most assuredly well affected towards your Lordship and yours. I -never knew man in my life more joyful for their friend than he at my -Lady’s noble and wise government of herself at her late being here; -saying that he heartily thanked God of so good a friend and kinsman of -your Lordship, and that you are matched with so noble and good a wife. I -saw the Queen’s Majesty yesternight in the garden; but for that she was -talking with my Lord Hunsden, she spake nothing to me, but looked very -earnestly on me. I hear her Majesty conceiveth somewhat better of me -than heretofore;[36] and my Lord of Leicester doubteth not in time to -bring all well again. - -“I can learn no certain news worthy to write to your Lordship’s -Secretary. William Winter hath not yet sent my resolute answer from the -Flushingers and Prince of Orange touching our merchants’ ships and -goods; for other matters of France. I know Mr. Secretary Walsingham’s -wonted manner is to send your Lordship’s occurrents that come thence. -Mr. Secretary Smith lieth still in hard case at his house in Essex, and, -as I hear, this day or to-morrow setteth towards the baths in -Somersetshire; the use of his tongue is clean taken from him that he -cannot be understood, such is the continuance of the rheum that -distilleth from his head downwards. - -“Thus, not knowing wherewith else to trouble your Lordship, I most -humbly beseech your blessing, with my wonted prayer for your Lordship’s -long continuance in all honour, and most perfect health. - -“From the Court this Friday at night, the 6th of July, 1576. - - “Your Lordship’s most humble and - obedient loving son, - “GILBERT TALBOT.” - - -Otherwise the family affairs of the Shrewsburys were engrossing enough. -The Lennox baby, born at Chatsworth, had, as stated, altered their -domestic and social world considerably. My Lady was now the grandmother -of a possible queen, a creature having equal right on her father’s side -to the crowns of Scotland and England. It was very important that while -Lady Shrewsbury still kept up towards the child’s aunt, Mary, a show of -friendliness, she should curry favour on every occasion with the English -Queen, who supported the rule of young James of Scotland. It was a nice -and delicate game to play, and must have pleased her well. It was not -likely now that Mary would ever come into power. Still, strange things -happened. If Elizabeth died suddenly Mary might have her day at last, -and every act of the Shrewsburys towards her in her captivity would be -weighed in her judgment and awards as soon as she was in the seat of -government. The two women had hitherto grown very friendly. All manner -of confidences must have passed between them, and my Lady’s alert ears -had supplied her quick tongue with many a bit of scandal which she could -retail for the amusement of the royal “guest.” - -From this period, however, she would practise greater caution. She had -recently steered clear of great danger, and was toiling hard for the -Queen’s smiles. It was well known that those who favoured and fêted Lord -Leicester fêted the Queen in proxy. The visit of Leicester to Buxton in -1576 presented itself therefore as a great social chance. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - MY LORD LEICESTER’S CURE - - -My Lord of Leicester was to have his cure. The physicians insisted upon -it. It is chronicled in Gilbert Talbot’s letter with all the importance -which would attend the bulletins of the health of a king. The Queen -never resented a fuss of this kind made over her pampered darling. In -his stuffed and padded Court costume, his feathered head-dress, and his -jewels one cannot detect in him one of the virile qualities which so -dominated her imagination. His treacheries were winked at, his vices -condoned, even the people who accused him most violently of the murder -of his first wife, Amy Robsart, when in perplexity crawled to his feet, -either literally like poor Lady Catherine Grey, or in abject letters -like Lady Lennox, who was one of his bitterest accusers and who had -suffered under the spies he sent into her very house. Let us for a few -moments recall the growth of this personage, this veritable bay-tree. He -was just Robert Dudley, a younger son, the fifth of a ruined family -lying under attainder—the Dukes of Northumberland. Mary of England -restored him to his title, and drew him out of nonentity and poverty by -appointing him Master of the Ordnance at the siege of S. Quentin. As -soldier and courtier he certainly came into contact with the Princess -Elizabeth, whose visits to Court were finally forced upon her unwilling -sister. Elizabeth had scarcely been on the throne a few months before -she indulged with much too evident relief in flirtations with him, as a -counterblast to the incessant negotiations with the ambassadors of her -successive foreign suitors. She coquetted with him in her boat, she kept -his portrait in a secret cabinet, she showed off her learning, her airs -and graces before him, she danced with him, and when she formally -created him Earl of Leicester she “could not refrain from putting her -hand in his neck, smilingly tickling him.” This honour, by the way, it -will be remembered, she pretended to confer on him in order that his -rank should fit him for marriage with Mary Queen of Scots, and so avoid -the dangers and difficulties to England which would arise from her -marriage with Darnley. There never was a pretence so thin. Elizabeth -made a great show of her willingness to bestow on another her “brother -and best friend, whom she would have married herself had she minded to -take a husband.” Since she had decided to die a virgin she held that -such a procedure in regard to Leicester would “free her mind of all -fears and suspicions to be offended by any usurpation before her death, -being assured that he was so loving and trusty that he would never -suffer any such thing to be attempted in her time.” While she openly -advertised Leicester as her favourite, she dangled him as a prize over -the head of her chief enemy. She always loved playing with fire, and it -is well that this time she did not burn her fingers, for Leicester was -the complete courtier and could not decide between the two queens. In -his eyes Mary had as much chance of ruling England as his present -mistress. Mary did not at the beginning of her career in Scotland appear -very anxious for his wooing. All this helped Elizabeth. Creighton -clearly takes the view that the latter promoted the Darnley marriage by -the very pushing of Leicester’s claims. Whether or not he was personally -commendable to Mary, it was greatly to his disadvantage, that, as -creature of Elizabeth, he should be thrust upon her enemy. - -Just at that period Leicester’s familiarity towards the Queen touched -gross impudence. We see him in the royal tennis-court pausing in a match -against the premier peer of England, the Duke of Norfolk, to wipe his -face with the handkerchief quickly filched from the Queen’s hand as she -sat amongst the onlookers. The Duke raged, offered violence, and, -unfortunately for royal dignity, Elizabeth’s manner showed that she took -the part of Leicester. She had already bestowed on him while a commoner -the Garter. The Order of St. Michael was his next honour, and he was -soon created Master of the Horse, Steward of the Household, Chancellor -of Oxford, Ranger of the Forests south of Trent, and, later on, -Captain-General of the English forces in the Netherlands. When age and -his last illness brooded over him his queen planned for him a last -dazzling post—a new creation—in the Lieutenancy of England and Ireland. -Despite the scandals attached to his three marriages,[37] he maintained -his place in the eyes of Elizabeth, and only in after years seriously -earned her displeasure. He had the rare art of “keeping on the right -side” of Lord Burghley, between whom and himself a sort of armed -neutrality existed, except when mutual advantage found them acting -heartily in concert. Leicester, as all his history shows, was, like -Buckingham, a gay dog, a ladies’ man. Pretty women hovered about him at -Court—_vide_ the letter from Gilbert Talbot under date May 11, 1573, -quoted in full in a previous chapter—he had to keep them at peace not to -give offence. He could play with their love, enjoy it, go to utmost -lengths, so long as the Queen believed that in his heart no other woman -could take her place. He entertained largely, he lived and dressed as -befitted his position. It was above all highly important that he should -keep his health in order, preserve the elegant lines of his soldier’s -figure, and defer as long as possible the days when he would, in his own -phrase, “grow high-coloured and red-faced.” - -When he was ordered to Buxton it was imperative that he should be -properly received and housed, and not lodged in the low wooden sheds -which were used by the ordinary public during their “cure,” and where -their fare seems to have consisted of “oat cakes, with a viand which the -hosts called mutton, but which the guests strongly suspected to be dog.” - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Emery Walker, after the picture in the National Portrait - Gallery_ - - ROBERT DUDLEY, EARL OF LEICESTER - - Page 178 -] - -Buxton waters, under the patronage of St. Anne “of Buckstone” and St. -Andrew of Burton, were beset for many years before this with poor -crippled pilgrims, who left symbols of their gratitude in the various -shrines of the place in the way of crutches and candles. When the -Cromwell of Henry VIII wiped England of popery these testimonials were -all demolished, and he “locked up and sealed the baths and wells ...” -pending the royal permission “to wash” therein. This, however, did not -prevent the Earl of Shrewsbury from building a suitable house for -patients, and it is thus described by a physician of the day:— - - -“Joyninge to the chiefe sprynge betweene the river and the bathe is a -very goodly house, four square, four stories hye, so well compacte with -houses and offices underneath, and above and round about, with a great -chamber, and other goodly lodgings to the number of thirty, that it is -and will be a bewty to beholde; and very notable for the honourable and -worshipful that shall need to repair thither, as also for others. - -“Yea, and the porest shall have lodgings and beds hard by for their uses -only. The bathes also so beautified with seats round; defended from the -ambyent air; and chimneys for fyre to ayre your garments in the bathes -side, and other necessaries most decent.” - - -Prices for baths varied according to the social position of the patient! -An archbishop seems to head the scale with a compulsory payment of £5, -while a yeoman only paid twelvepence, and was entitled to as long a cure -as the Primate. Lord Leicester, coming in the category of Earls, was -charged twenty shillings. One half of the fee went to the doctor in -command, the rest towards a fund for the cure of the poorest cripples. - -The aforesaid house, which four times sheltered both Mary of Scotland -and once at least Lord Leicester, is now gone; in place of it is a -hotel, and there is no trace of the “pleasant warm bowling-green planted -about with large sycamore trees.” This, according to another authority, -was part of its garden, and it was Gilbert Talbot’s duty to entertain -his father’s dazzling guest and the Queen’s favourite in this pleasant -spot. During the week of this memorable visit the young man never lost -an opportunity of furthering his family’s cause and of sounding -influential persons at all seasons. He, like others, had constant -recourse to Leicester, both by word of mouth and pen. The letter which -follows[38] is a typical epistle of the kind which is scattered through -the society correspondence of the day. - -We see by this that Gilbert was actually at “Buckstones” doing the -honours of his father’s house there to any distinguished guests, while -the Earl, his father, was nailed to his post at Sheffield, and the -Countess presumably busying herself with the killing of the fatted calf -at Chatsworth in readiness to honour Leicester on his going southward. - -She must have hailed this epistle with huge satisfaction, since it -definitely announces the Earl’s presence at Buxton with his intention of -accepting her invitation to Chatsworth, and at the same time assures her -of his good offices on behalf of young Lady Lennox. Poor Elizabeth -Cavendish was by this time a widow,[39] almost penniless, and appealing -to the Queen for financial support on behalf of the baby Lady Arabella. -The letter is addressed to both of Gilbert’s parents:— - - -“My duty, etc,—This morning early I delivered your L.’s packet to my L. -of Leicester, who, upon reading thereof, said he would write to your L. -by a post that is here, and willed me to send away your lackey. I asked -him how long he thought to tarry here, and prayed him to tarry as long -as might be. And he said he knew not whether to go to Chatsworth on -Tuesday or Wednesday or Thursday come seven nights, but one of those -three days without fail. There came some score of fowl here on Saturday, -which served here very well yesterday, and will do this three or four -days. Sir Hugh Chamley sent hither to my L. of Leicester a very fat -beef, which my L. of Leicester bade me go down to see, and to take him -to use as I listed; but I told him I was sure your L. would be angry if -I took him; yet for all this, he would force me to take him; and so I -kept him here in the town till I know your L.’s pleasure what shall be -done with him; he would serve very well for Chatsworth. Bayley thinketh -that they will tarry two or three days at Chatsworth. There is no word -yet come from my L. of Huntington and my La. whether they will meet my -L. of Leicester at Chatsworth or not; if they do (as he hath written -very earnestly to them) I think he will not come to Ashby, but go the -next way to Killingworth and there tarry but two or three days only. My -L. of Rutland, by reason of the foul afternoon yesterday, lay here all -the last night in the chamber where Sir Henry Lea lodged. I showed the -letter of my La. Lennox, your daughter, to my L. of Leicester, who said -that he thought it were far better for him to defer her suit to her -Majesty till his own coming to the Court than otherwise to write to her -before; for that he thinketh her Majesty will suppose his letter, if he -should write, were but at your La.’s request, and so by another letter -would straight answer it again, and so it do no great good; but at his -meeting your La. he will (he saith) advise in what sort your La. shall -write to the Queen Majesty, which he will carry unto her, and then be as -earnest a solicitor therein as ever he was for anything in his life, and -he doubteth not to prevail to your La. contention. To-morrow my L. of -Leicester meaneth to go to Sir Peres a Leyes to meet with my L. of -Derby, if the weather be any whit fair. And thus most humbly craving -your Lo.’s blessing with my wonted prayer for your long continuance in -all honour and most perfect health and long life I cease. At Buxton in -haste this present Monday before noon. - -“Your Lo.’s most humble and obedient son, - - “G. TALBOT. - -“The Lords do pray your L. to remember their case (of) knives.”[40] - - -[Illustration: - - _From a photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, after the picture at - Hardwick Hall - By permission of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire_ - - QUEEN ELIZABETH - - Page 182 -] - -There is no further comment from him on the subject of this visit, but -later letters will show that it went off smoothly and resulted in -benefit to the patient. As for his visit to Chatsworth it appears to -have been a triumphant success. Many things were talked out between -host, hostess, and guest in the few days of his sojourn. They had many -experiences in common—to wit, the insane jealousy and suspicions of -their Sovereign. But on this occasion their meeting hatched no -unpleasant results in this respect. The Queen herself wrote to thank -them for their good entertainment of her valued friend. And hereby hangs -a little comedy, a mystery. Two letters, evidently of the same date, -were dictated by the Queen. The skittish original in the handwriting of -Sir Francis Walsingham was not sent. A sedate version of it was the one -which the Shrewsburys opened. This is among the Talbot manuscripts. The -lively edition remains in the Record Office among the Mary Queen of -Scots MSS. for the amusement of posterity. Opinions differ as to the -mood in which Elizabeth wrote it.[41] It has been suggested that it was -done in a flippant ironical spirit; it has also been taken as a symptom -of wild elation born of Elizabeth’s belief that her marriage with Lord -Leicester would really be achieved. It seems most likely that she -certainly dashed it off in a flippant mood, with the intention of -chaffing the serious apprehensive High Steward of England and his wife, -and that Lord Burghley, or Walsingham, advised her to desist and to -allow a copy to be made, excluding the “larky” passages. - -This is what she sent:— - - - “The Queen to the Earl and Countess of Shrewsbury. - “By the Queen. - “Your most assured loving cousin and sovereign, - Elizabeth R. - “Our very good Cousins, - -“Being given to understand from our cousin of Leicester how honourably -he was received by you our cousin the Countess at Chatsworth, and his -diet by you both discharged at Buxtons, but also presented with a very -rare present, we should do him great wrong (holding him in that place of -favour we do) in case we should not let you understand in what thankful -sort we accept the same at your hands, not as done unto him, but to our -own self, reputing him as another ourself; and, therefore, ye may assure -yourselves, that we taking upon us the debt not as his but as our own, -will take care accordingly to discharge the same in such honourable sort -as so well-deserving creditors as ye are shall never have cause to think -ye have met with an ungrateful debtor. In this acknowledgment of new -debts we may not forget our old debt, the same being as great as a -sovereign can owe to a subject; when through your loyal and most careful -looking to this charge committed to you, both we and our realm enjoy a -peaceable government, the best good hope that to any prince on earth can -befall: This good hap, then, growing from you, ye might think yourselves -most unhappy if you served such a prince as should not be as ready -graciously to consider of it as thankfully to acknowledge the same, -whereof ye may make full account, to your comfort when time shall serve. -Given under our signet in our manor of Greenwich, the 25th day of June, -1577, and in the 19th year of our reign.” - - -This is what Elizabeth, a sovereign of nineteen years’ standing, a woman -over forty years of age, wanted to send:— - - -“Being given to understand from our cousin of Leicester how honourably -he was lately received and used by you, our Cousin the Countess of -Chatsworth, and how his diet is by you both discharged at Buxtons, we -should do him great wrong (holding him in that place of favour we do) in -case we should not let you understand in how thankful sort we accept the -same at both your hands—which we do not acknowledge to be done unto him -but unto ourselves; and therefore do mean to take upon us the debt and -to acknowledge you both as creditors, so you can be content to accept us -for debtor, wherein is the danger unless you cut off some part of the -large allowance of diet you give him, lest otherwise the debt thereby -may grow to be so great as we shall not be able to discharge the same, -and so become bankrupt, and therefore we think it meet for the saving of -our credit to prescribe unto you a proportion of diet which we mean in -no case you shall exceed, and that is to allow him by the day of his -meat two ounces of flesh referring the quality to yourselves, so as you -exceed not the quantity; and for his drink one-twentieth of a pint of -wine to comfort his stomach and as much of St. Anne’s sacred water as he -lusteth to drink. On festival days, as is fit for a man of his quality, -we can be content you shall enlarge his diet by allowing unto him for -his dinner the shoulder of a wren, and for his supper a leg of the same, -besides his ordinary ounces. The like proportion we mean you shall allow -unto our brother of Warwick,[42] saying that we think it meet, in -respect that his body is more replete than his brother’s, that the -wren’s leg allowed at supper on festival days be abated; for that light -suppers agreeth but with the rules of physic. This order our meaning is -you shall inviolably observe, and so you may right well assure -yourselves of a most thankful debtor to so well-deserving creditors.” - - -This letter is endorsed “M. of her Mates Ires to the Earl and Countess -of Shrewsbury, of thanks for the good usage of my L. of Lec.” - -Indeed, it was well that it was not sent. From one point of view it -reads suspiciously like a skit devised by Elizabeth on the statements -periodically sent her by Lord Shrewsbury with regard to the “diet” of -the Queen of Scots, and the number of courses and dishes allowed her on -festival days. - -The Earl writes presently to the Queen in his wife’s name, on this, his -own, and other matters. His tone is artful, astute, and conventional:— - - - “May it please your most excellent Majesty, - -“The comfortable letters I lately received, of your own blessed -handwriting, made me by oft looking on them, think my happiness more -than any service (were it never so perfect) could merit; and myself more -bounden to your Highness for the same than by writing I can express. And -as it pleased your Majesty to write with assured confidence you have in -my fidelity, and safe keeping of this lady, doubting nothing but lest -her fair speech deceive me, so I am sure, although it please your -Majesty to warn[43] me of her, yet doth your wisdom see well enough by -my many years’ service past any inclination to her was never further, -nor otherwise than of her Majesty’s service.... - -“Nor have I cause to trust her. Were her speech fair or crabbed my only -respect hath been, is still, and so shall continue, to the duty I owe -unto your Majesty.... I have her forthcoming at your Majesty’s -commandment.... - -“And may it now further please your Majesty to license my wife and me -humbly to acknowledge ourselves the more bound to your Majesty, as well -as for the comfortable message Mr. Julio brought us lately from your -Majesty, as that it pleased your Majesty to vouchsafe our rude and gross -entertainment of our devout friend, my kinsman, my Lord of Leicester; -which although in respect of our duties to your Majesty and the great -goodwill we bear to him, is not so well as it ought to be, yet are we -sure it contenteth him, and displeaseth not your Majesty, that he is the -welcomed friend to us of all others. My wife also bids me yield her -humble thanks to your Majesty ... and now (since we can do no more, nor -your Highness have no more of us than our true and faithful hearts and -service, wherein we will spend our lives and all we have, if your -Majesty command it) we pray to God for your most excellent Majesty, as -we are bounden. Sheffield, 4th of July, 1577. - -“Your Majesty’s most humble, faithful servant, - - “GEORGE SHREWSBURY.” - - -In this year, whether or no the weather specially tended to develop -rheumatism or aggravate it, there seems to have been a positive rush of -great persons to Buxton. A fortnight later Lord Burghley wrote to inform -the Shrewsburys of his expedition to the baths and, like others, to beg -for hospitality. - -“I am now thoroughly licensed by her Majesty to come thither with as -much speed as my old crazed body will suffer me. And, because I doubt -your Lordship is and shall be pressed with many other like suits for -your favour, to have the use of some lodgings there, I am bold at the -present to send this my letter by post”—that is to say, by special -messenger. He goes on: “I am to have in my company but Mr. Roger Manners -and my son, Thomas Cecil, for whom I am also to interest your Lordship -to procure them, by your commandment, some lodging as your Lordship -shall please.” - -The Earl of Sussex who preferred a doughty cure, drinking as much as -three pints a day, made tender enquiries as to the result of the water -on the Lord Treasurer. As to its effects on Lord Leicester, one can -judge best by this letter from a friend to the Shrewsburys—Richard -Topclyffe, a tremendous Protestant, by the way, and hunter of -“mass-mongers and recusants,” to the Countess. He reassures her fully as -to the health of the guest who had just quitted Chatsworth, quotes -Leicester’s promise to further her welfare and that of her young -stepsons, Henry and Edward Talbot, his kinsmen:— - - -“We did yesternight come to Ricote, my Lo. Norris’s, where late did -arrive the Countesses of Bedford and Cumberland and the Earl of -Cumberland, the Lord Wharton and his wife. The fat Earl[44] cometh this -day, my L. of Leicester being departed towards the Court, to Sir Thomas -Gresham’s, thirty-three miles hence (whereby you may perceive of his -health), only a little troubled with a boil drawing to a head in the -calf of the leg, which maketh him use his litter. The Countess kept him -long waiting, asking if Buxton sent sound men halting home. But I never -did hear him commend the place, nor the entertainment half so much: and -did sware that he wished he had tarried three weeks longer with his -charge ... but, saith he, it hath, and would have cost my friends -deeply. His L. wished her Majesty would progress to Grafton and -Killingworth, which condition he would see Buxton this summer again. But -the next year is threatened that journey. I can send your La. no more -unpleasant news but that his Lo. hath said with me in vows that he will -be as tender over your Lord and yourself, and both yours, as over his -own health: and my Lo. is very careful over his two young cousins, Mr. -Ed. and Mr. Hen., to have them placed at Oxford, wishing that he may -find of his kindred to work his goodwill upon, as he hath done hitherto -on many unthankful persons. Good madam, further you my good Lo., your -husband’s disposition that way for your son Charles.... And therewith I -end; in very humble sort. The 9th of July, 1577. - - “Your La. ever at command, - “RIC. TOPCLIFFE.”[45] - - -Everything as regards the Talbot and Cavendish family was going -well—merrily as a marriage-bell, so far as “Bess” was concerned. The -widowhood of her youngest daughter, Lady Lennox, did not affect her. It -was only one more tool to her hand in scheming for the Queen’s favour, -the Queen’s largesse, and in balancing any foolish and unwise notions -which the Countess might have previously entertained in regard to Queen -Mary’s cause. - -Mary, it may be recalled here, had had more than one chance of marriage -with Lord Leicester. He had, so to speak, meandered in and out of her -affairs, now as suitor, now as go-between. As recently as 1574, three -years previous to his Buxton visit, he seems for the second time to have -entertained thoughts of making her an offer of marriage, whereas -previously he had used his influence on behalf of the Duke of Norfolk’s -wooing, and again with a view to averting his condemnation. In 1574 Mary -was so firmly impressed with his attitude towards her that she advised -her relations in France to pave the way for friendly overtures with a -gift to Leicester. She was also about this time very anxious to -refurbish her wardrobe, and took a great interest in securing brilliant -and becoming materials and millinery of the kind most in vogue: “Send by -and by Jean de Compiègne,” she writes, “and let him bring me patterns of -dresses and samples of cloth of gold and silver and silk, the most -beautiful and rare that are worn at Court, to learn my pleasure about -them. Order Poissy to make me a couple of headdresses, with a crown of -gold and silver, such as they have formerly made for me; and tell Breton -to remember his promise, and obtain for me from Italy the newest -fashions in headdresses, and veils and ribbons, with gold and -silver....” There was no blindness about the way she regarded the -possibility of such a marriage. She held that Leicester’s motives were -anything but romantic or altruistic. But if so powerful a suitor could -be secured, and above all seduced from allegiance to Elizabeth, Mary had -no objection to the match. Her letters to France are full of allusions -to him:—[46] - - -“Leicester talks over M. de La Mothe to persuade him that he is wholly -for me, and endeavours to gain over Walsingham my mortal enemy to this -effect.” - -And again: “M. de La Mothe advises me to entreat that my cousin of -Guise, my grandmother and yours, will write some civil letters to -Leicester, thanking him for his courtesy to me, as if he had done much -for me, and by the same medium send him some handsome present, which -will do me much good. He takes great delight in furniture; if you send -him some crystal cup in your name, and allow me to pay for it, or some -fine Turkey carpet, or such like as you may think most fitting, it will -perhaps save me this winter, and will make him much ashamed, or -suspected by his mistress, and all will assist me. For he intends to -make me speak of marriage or die, as it is said, so that either he or -his brother may have to do with this crown. I beseech you try if such -small device can save me and I shall entertain him with the other, at a -distance.” - - -How this letter reveals her impulse for romance, her pathetic, dogged -attempts to believe herself all-powerful! - -Leicester, naturally, was far too cautious to take the tremendous risk -involved, and contented himself with keeping at a distance and in -exchanging polite and friendly letters with the Shrewsburys, such as the -one quoted on page 170. He was an adept at this kind of sugary -testimonial. Certainly no finer instance could be given in support of -the dignity, virtue, and innocence of an intriguing and busy lady from -the pen of an arch-courtier—a man accused of wife-murder, seduction, -poisoning, and political treachery. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - THE DIVIDED WAY - - -Seeing that my Lady of Shrewsbury had triumphantly surmounted one of the -greatest dangers she had ever drawn upon herself and hers, one can -safely assume that after the foregoing letter she was in a tolerably -prancing and jovial temper. Socially she really was for the moment a -much more important item to be reckoned with than Mary Queen of Scots -herself. All the difficulties of the past two years had only served to -bring her into closer touch with both queens. Meantime she was a rich -and honoured lady with a great many irons in the fire, and her wants and -requirements were legion. She still wanted ale and wood and stone, she -could not spend all her valuable time dancing attendance upon Mary, or -sharing the dull semi-military routine of Sheffield Castle and Sheffield -Lodge. She went to her beloved Chatsworth, and husband and wife -exchanged letters. Here is a wistful appreciation from him:— - - -“My Sweetheart,—Your true and faithful zeal you bear me is more -comfortable to me than anything I can think upon, and I give God thanks -daily for his benefits he hath bestowed on me, and greatest cause I have -to give him thanks that he hath sent me you in my old years to comfort -me withal. Your coming I shall think long for, and shall send on Friday -your litter horses and on Saturday morning I will send my folks, because -Friday they will be desirous to be at Rotherham Fair. - -“It appears by my sister Wingfield’s letter there is bruit of this -Queen’s going from me. I thank you for sending it me, which I return -again, and will not show it till you may speak it yourself what you -hear; and I have sent you John Knifton’s letter, that Lord brought me, -that you may perceive what is [? bruited] of the young King. I thank you -for your fat capon and it shall be baked, and kept cold and untouched -until my sweetheart come; guess you who it is. I have sent you a cock -that was given to me, which is all the dainties I have here. - -“I have written to Sellars to send every week a quarter of rye for this -ten weeks, which will be as much as I know will be had there, and ten -quarters of barley, which will be all that I can spare you. Farewell, my -sweet true none and faithful wife. - - “All yours, - “SHREWSBURY.”[47] - - -Here is a letter from her to him, brisk, tart, affectionate all at -once:— - - - “My dear heart, - -“I have sent your letters again and thank you for them; they require no -answer; but when you write remember to thank him for them. If you cannot -get my timber carried I must be without it though I greatly want it; but -if it would please you to command Hebert or any other, to move your -tenants to bring it, I ken they will not deny to do it. I pray you let -me know if I shall have the ton of iron. If you cannot spare it I must -make shift to get it elsewhere, for I may not now want it. You promised -to send me money afore this time to buy oxen, but I see, out of sight -out of mind with you. - -“My son Gilbert has been very ill in his bed ever since he came from -Sheffield: I think it is his old disease; he is now, I thank God, -somewhat better and she very well. I will send you the bill of my wood -stuff: I pray you let it be sent to Joseph, that he may be sure to -receive all. I thank you for taking order for the carriage of it in -Hardwick; if you would command, your waggoner might bring it thither: I -think it would be safest carried. Here is neither malt nor hops. The -malt come last is so very ill and stinking, as Hawkes thinks none of my -workmen will drink it. Show this letter to my friend and then return it. -I think you will take no discharge at Zouch’s hands nor the rest. You -may work still in despite of them; the law is on your side.[48] It -cannot be but that you shall have the Queen’s consent to remove hither; -therefore if you would have things in readiness for your provision, you -might the sooner come. Come either before Midsummer or not this year; -for any provision you have yet you might have come as well as at Easter -as at this day. Here is yet no manner of provision more than a little -drink, which makes me to think you mind not to come. God send my jewel -health. - - “Your faithful wife - “E. SHREWSBURY.” - - - “Saturday morn. - -“I have sent you lettuce for that you love them; and every second day -some is sent to your charge and you. I have nothing else to send. Let me -hear how you, your charge and love do, and commend me I pray you. It -were well you sent four or five pieces of the great hangings that they -might be put up; and some carpets. I wish you would have things in that -readiness that you might come either three or four days after you hear -from Court. Write to Baldwin to call on my Lord Treasurer for answer of -your letters.” - - -The expression in the postscript “your charge and love” has been -variously interpreted by historians. It is utterly inconceivable that, -as suggested, Lady Shrewsbury should have indicated Mary Queen of Scots -by the last word. Had she wished to bring an accusation of this kind -against her husband she would not immediately add her desire that he -should join her as soon as possible. It is not unlikely that this -perplexing sentence should run, “Let me hear how you, your charge, and -(our) love do,” the “love” probably signifying a child or grandchild -then with the Earl. Similarly the words “God send my jewel health” may -apply to the same child, for in after years she uses this term of -endearment almost exclusively in speaking of her precious grandchild, -Arabella Stuart. Her peremptory request for “great hangings and carpets” -is rather interesting, because a previous family letter, not yet -included, gives a picture of the Earl’s parsimony in these details. This -occurs as early as two years before the date of the above letters; and -two long epistles from Gilbert to his stepmother show, first, how the -long strain of his duties was telling upon the Earl, and, secondly, the -unfavourable contrast produced on the minds of their children by the -manner in which they were treated respectively by father and mother. - -Gilbert, at Sheffield in 1575, describes the atmosphere of the house as -utterly uncongenial. He is longing to be away and to have his own home. -Lady Shrewsbury was away, probably at Chatsworth.[49] - - -“My L. is continually pestered with his wonted business, and is very -often in exceeding choler of slight occasion; a great grief to them that -loves him to see him hurt himself so much. He now speaketh nothing of my -going to house, and I fear would be contented with silence to pass it -over; but I have great hope in your La. at your coming, and in all my -life I never longed for anything so much as to be from hence; truly, -Madame, I rather wish myself a ploughman than here to continue.” - - -Her Ladyship came and went, but does not seem to have had much effect in -softening her lord. Soon afterwards Gilbert writes again, oppressed by -his father’s lack of lavishness in regard to the fitting out of his -son’s home—an attitude which he compares unfavourably with the generous -methods of the stepmother.[50] - - -“Madame, where it hath pleased your La. to bestow on us a great deal of -furniture towards house we can but by our prayers for your La. show -ourselves dutiful as well for this as all other your La. continual -benefits towards us, whereof we can never fail so long as it shall -please God to continue His grace towards us. Presently after your La., -departure from hence my Lord appointed him of the wardrobe to deliver us -the tester and curtains of the old green and red bed of velvet and satin -that your La. did see; and the cloth bed tester and curtains we now lie -in, and two very old counterpanes of tapestry; and forbad him to deliver -the bed of cloth of gold and tawny velvet that your La. saw. That which -your La. hath given us is more worth than all that is at Goodrich,[51] -or here of my Lord’s bestowing. On Wednesday my Lord went hence. Cooks -brought in a piece of housewife’s cloth nothing dearer than twelve pence -the yard, and so was holden; which Cooks told my Lord would very well -serve my wife to make sheets, bore cloths and such like: which my L. at -the very first yielded unto, and bade him carry it to Stele to measure, -into the outer chamber, and he said he thought it very dear of that -price, and thereupon my L. refused to buy it.... Thus I beseech your La. -most humbly of your blessing to your little fellow[52] and myself who is -very well, thanks be to God.... - -“Sheffield, this Friday, 13th of October, 1575.” - - -Here for the first time is the beginning of real dissension in the -family. The Earl’s own son murmurs against him, and the wife, being the -daughter of her husband’s stepmother, would naturally share his -resentment towards the soldierly official towards whom she stood in such -a very delicate double relationship. The young couple are placed in a -very difficult position henceforth between Earl and Countess, and their -letters show the growing jealousy of her absence and her independence in -the Earl’s mind. The postscript strikes a tenderer note in the allusion -to the childish days of the “lyttell fellow”—George, son and heir of -Gilbert and Mary Talbot—and his awe of his “Lady Danmode” (Grandmother). - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, after the painting at Hardwick - Hall_ - _By permission of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire_ - - ELIZABETH COUNTESS OF SHREWSBURY - - Page 198 -] - - -“My duty, most humble rem. R. Ho., my most singular good La. This day my -Lo. intendeth to go to Worsopp; to-morrow to Rufford; and on Saturday -hither again. He was not so inquisitive of me touching your La. since my -last being at Chatsworth, as he was the time before; only he hath asked -me many times when I thought your La. would be here: whereto I have -answered sometimes that your La. was so ill at ease with the rheumatism -as you knew not when God would make you able; other times, that I -thought when your La. were well, you would desire to stay for some -months if he would give you leave; for you assuredly thought my Lo. was -better pleased with your absence than presence. Whereunto he replied -very earnestly the contrary in such manner as he hath done heretofore -when I have told him the like. I found occasion to tell him that your -La. meant not to hold Owen as your groom any longer, since it was his -pleasure to be so offended with him: howbeit (I said) your La. told me -that you knew not what offence he had committed, nor other by him at all -than that he was a simple, true man, and that you would be glad to -understand something to lay to his charge when you should turn him out -of your service. But he answered no other than that it was his will for -divers causes which he would not utter. Further, I said your La. told me -you meant to take some wise fellow as your groom that should not be so -simple as Owen was, but one who had been in service heretofore and knew -what were fit and belonged to him to do in that service. Quoth he: ‘I -believe she will take none of my putting to her.’ Since that time he -gave no occasion of speech of your La., and indeed I have not been very -much with him these four or five days, for he had much business with -others. He is nothing so merry in my judgment as he was the last week; -but I assure your La. I know not any cause at all. No other thing I know -worthy of your La. knowledge at this present. Therefore, with most -humble desire of your La. blessings to me and mine, and our prayer for -your La. continuance in all honour, most perfect health and felicity, I -cease. - -“Sheffield, this present Thursday, 1st August, 1577. - - “Your La. most humble and obedient - loving children, - “GILBERT TALBOT, M. TALBOT. - -“George is very well, I thank God: he drinketh every day to La. -Grandmother, rideth to her often, but yet within the Court; and if he -have any spice, I tell him La. Grandmother is come and will see him; -which he then will either quickly hide or quickly eat, and then asks -where La. Danmode is.” - - -Here it is very distinctly set forth, the growing distrust, the little -suspicions nursed by husband and wife: “He was not so inquisitive of me -touching your Ladyship.” “He asked me divers times when I thought your -Ladyship would be here.” “You assuredly thought that my Lord was better -pleased with your absence than presence.” And in expressing his mother’s -willingness to send away one of her grooms, since her lord was so -offended with him, though she would gladly know of some offence to -allege in giving the man his dismissal, he shows that my Lord still is -mistrustful. “She’ll take no groom that I recommend to her” is his -morose comment. - -Another long letter from Gilbert the go-between gives the quarrel a -more serious colour. Apparently it is the absurd old matter of -household tapestries which is the immediate bone of contention. In -vulgar phrase, there seems to have been a regular “row” over some -embroiderers—upholsterer’s men as they would now be called—at -Sheffield Lodge, who had been turned adrift instead of being carefully -housed while at their work. The Earl’s steward, one Dickenson, -evidently acted against express orders in his zeal to keep at a -distance all persons who were not actually of the household and who -might convey letters or messages to the captive. The Earl had -expressed himself forcibly and the Countess could not forget his -words. But she had not restrained her tongue either, and he had -retorted that she scolded “like one that came from the Bank.” He does -not like the groom, Owen (alluded to in the letter just quoted), and -couples him with the embroiderer’s men. But the thing which most hurts -him is that his wife should have left Sheffield, whither he is bound -from Bolsover, the very day he arrives. He cannot forgive it, in spite -of her suggestion that he should combine some business he has to -transact in the Peak district with a visit to her at Chatsworth. He -is, moreover, morbidly sensitive about the whole position, and thinks -that his wife’s departure will make a very bad impression upon his -household. Gilbert pleads her love and devotion, and draws a vivid -picture of her distress. The Earl melts; he concedes her love; he -reiterates all he has done for her, all he has “bestowed.” And lastly -he curses her building projects which take her so constantly away from -him. - -[Illustration: - - _From a photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, after the picture at - Hardwick Hall - By permission of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire_ - - GEORGE TALBOT, SIXTH EARL OF SHREWSBURY - - Page 202 -] - - -“My duty most humbly remembered. I trust your La. will pardon me in -writing plainly and truly, although it be both bluntly and tediously. I -met my L. at Bolsover yesterday about one of the clock, who at the very -first was rather desirous to hear from hence than to enquire of -Killingworth. Quoth he, ‘Gilbert, what talk had my wife with you?’ -‘Marry, my L.,’ quoth I, ‘it hath pleased her to talk with me once or -twice since my coming, but the matter she most spoke of is no small -discomfort for me to understand.’ Then he was very desirous and bade me -tell him what. I began: ‘Truly, Sir, with as grieved a mind as ever I -saw woman in my life, she told me your L. was vehemently offended with -her, in such sort, and with so many words and shows in your anger of -evil will towards her, as thereby your L. said you could not but seem -doubtful that all his wonted love and affection is clean turned to the -contrary; for your L. further said, you had given him no cause at all to -be offended.’ You hearing that your embroiderers were kept out of the -Lodge from their beds by John Dickenson’s command said to my L. these -words in the morning, ‘Now did you give command that the embroiderers -should be kept out of the Lodge?’ and my L. answered ‘No.’ ‘Then,’ quoth -your La., ‘they were kept from their beds there yesternight; and he that -did so said John Dickenson had given that express command.’ Which my L. -said was a lie. And he said it was utterly untrue. And so I would have -gone on to have told the rest; how your La. willed him to enquire -whether they were not in this manner kept out or no: but his proceeding -into vehement choler and hard speeches he cut me off, saying it was to -no purposs to hear any recital of this matter, for if he listed he said -he could remember cruel speeches your La. used to him, ‘which were such -as,’ quoth he, ‘I was forced to tell her, she scolded like one that came -from the Bank.[53] Then, Gilbert,’ said he, ‘judge whether I had cause -or not. Well,’ quoth he, ‘I will speak no more of this matter: but she -hath such a sort of varlets about her as never ceaseth carrying tales’; -and then uttered cruel words against Owen chiefly and the embroiderers, -over long to trouble your La. with. So being alighted from his horse all -this while, said, ‘Let us get up and be gone; and I shall have enough to -do when I come home.’ Then quoth I, ‘I think my La. be at Chatsworth by -this time.’ ‘What!’ quoth he, ‘is she gone from Sheffield?’ I answered, -‘By nine of the clock.’ Whereupon he seemed to marvel greatly, and said, -‘Is her malice such that she would not tarry one night for my coming?’ I -answered that your La. told me that he was contented at your first -coming you should go as yesterday: which he swore he never heard of. -‘Then,’ quoth I, ‘my La. further told me that when your L. was contented -for her departure that day, he said that he had business in the Peake -and would shortly come thither, and lie at Chatsworth.’ Quoth he, ‘Her -going away thus giveth me small cause to come to Chatsworth,’ but -answered not whether he said so or not. But I assure your La. before -God, he was and is greatly offended with your going hence yesterday. - -“After he had seen all his grounds about Bolsover, and was coming into -the way homewards, he began with me again saying that all the house -might discern your Ladyship’s stomach against him by your departure -before his coming. I answered beside what I said before, that your La. -said you had very great and earnest business as well at Chatsworth for -your things there, as to deal with certain freeholders for Sir Thomas -Stanhope, but he allowed not any reason or cause, but was exceeding -angry for the same. Whereupon I spake at large which I beseech your La. -to pardon my tediousness in repeating thereof, or at least the most -thereof. Quoth I, ‘I pray your L. give leave to tell you plainly what I -gathered by my Lady. I see she is so grieved and vexed in mind as I -protest to God I never saw any woman more in my life; and after she told -me how without any cause at all your L. uttered most cruel and bitter -speeches against her, when she all the while never uttered any undutiful -word, and had particularly imparted the whole matter, she plainly -declared unto me that she thought your L. heart was withdrawn from her, -and all your affection and love to hate and evil will’: saying that you -took it as your cross that so contrary to your deservings he adjudged of -you, applinge[54] the manifold shows which you so indefinitely have made -proof; and so forgot no earnest protestations that your La. pleased to -utter to me of your dear affection and love to him both in health and -sickness, taking it upon your soul that you wished his griefs were on -yourself to disburden and quit him of [them]. - -“And quoth I, ‘My L., when she told me of this her dear love towards -you, and now how your L. hath requited her, she was in such perplexity -as I never saw woman’: and concluded, that your La. speech was that now -you know he thought himself most happy when you were absent from, and -most unhappy when you were with him. And this, I assure your La., he -heeded; and although I cannot say his very word was that he had injured -and wronged you, yet both by his countenance and words it plainly showed -the same, and [he] answered, ‘I know,’ quoth he, ‘her love hath been -great to me: and mine hath been and is as great to her: for what can a -man do more for his wife than I have done and daily do for her?’ And so -reckoned at large, your La. may think with the most, what he hath given -and bestowed. Whereunto I could not otherwise reply than thus. Quoth I, -‘My L., she were to blame if she considered not these things: but I -gather plainly by her speech to me that she thinketh notwithstanding -that your heart is hardened against her, as I have once or twice already -told your Lordship, and that you love them that love not her, and -believe those about you which hateth her.’ And at your departure I said -that your La. told me that you verily thought my L. was gladder of your -absence than presence. Wherein, I assure your La., he deeply protested -the contrary: and said, ‘Gilbert, you know the contrary; and how often I -have cursed the buildings at Chatsworth for want of her company: but -[quoth he] you see she careth not for my company by going away. I would -not have done so to her....’ But after this he talked not much; but I -know it pinched him, and on my conscience I think so; but what effects -will follow God knoweth. - -“I will write again to your La. what I find by him this day; for -yesternight having not talked with any but myself, I know that his heart -desireth reconciliation if he wist which way to bring it to pass. Living -God grant it, and make his heart turn to your comfort in all things. - -“To-morrow he will send me to Derby about Sir Thomas Stanhope’s matter. -I most humbly beseech your La. blessing to me and mine. George rejoiced -so greatly yesternight at my L. coming home, as I could not have -believed if I had not seen it. Sunday at nine of the clock. For God’s -sake, Madame, pardon my very tedious and evil favoured scribbling. - -“Your La. most humble and obedient loving son, - - “GILBERT TALBOT.” - -“The hasty letter from Sir John Constable was to advertise that there -are two Scots that travel with linen cloths to sell, that gave letters -of importance to this Queen: one of them is brother to Curle. My L. -Huntington’s letter was refusal of land that my L. offered him to sell.” - - -“What effects will follow God knoweth!” Certainly 1577 was an unhappy -year for the house of Shrewsbury. “This world,” as Lord Leicester says -in one of his letters to the great Earl, “is wholly given to reports and -bruits of all sorts.” And these conjugal bickerings, as the Earl -foresaw, would beget reports which, added to the “bruits” he had to face -almost daily anent his prisoner, would certainly crush him and his wife. -For the present the latter rumours were reviving in such force that he -could not stop to think of his private affairs. In his letter to his -wife—the first letter quoted in this chapter—he had alluded to one of -these “bruits,” and his apprehensions naturally made him greatly desire -the companionship of his Bess. - -These rumours were no laughing matter. Affairs in the Netherlands were -now complicating England’s foreign policy, and the rumour of the wooing -of Mary of Scotland by the gallant Don John of Austria caused all sorts -of suspicions of her release. For this audacious and foolhardy soldier -had projected a programme of exploits which included the subjugation of -the Low Countries, the conquest of England, and, through Mary, the -sovereignty over it and the restoration of the Romish faith. My Lord -Treasurer promptly indited the following to Mary’s gaoler:— - - -“My very good Lord, - -“I cannot but continue my thanks for all your liberal courtesies, -praying your Lordship to assure yourself of my poor but yet assured -friendship while I live. At my coming to the Court I found such alarm by -news directly written from France, and from the Low Countries, of the -Queen of Scots’ escape, either already made or very shortly to be -attempted, as (surely knowing, as I did, your circumspection in keeping -of her, and hearing all things in that country about you very quiet, and -free from such dangers) I was bold to make small account of the news, -although her Majesty, and the Council here, were therewith perplexed. -And though time doth try these news for anything already done false, yet -the noise thereof, and the doubt that her Majesty halts for secret -hidden practices, to be wrought rather by corruption of some of yours -whom you shall trust than by open force, moveth her Majesty to warn your -Lordship, as she said she would write to your Lordship that you -continue, or rather increase, your vigilancy ...; and as I think your -Lordship hath carried your charge to Chatsworth, so I think that house a -very meet bourn for good preservation thereof; having no town of resort -where any ambushes ... may lie.” - - -Shrewsbury had removed Mary to Chatsworth during the late summer of -1577, and his motive in applying for leave to do so was apparently not -unmixed with an earnest desire for that “reconciliation” at which -Gilbert hinted. There was, besides, a very potent reason for the -_rapprochement_ of husband and wife. On Gilbert and Mary Talbot great -sorrow had fallen. The adored baby son George, the “lytell fellow,” died -suddenly. The Earl tells it to Burghley. He writes from Sheffield -briefly, incoherently. The loss hits him very hard, and he acknowledges -that this child is his best beloved, the Queen’s Majesty only excepted. -In fear of the effect of the blow upon his excitable wife he suggests -that Burghley’s reply and condolences should be addressed to her, and so -help to “rule” and control her. - - -“My very good Lord,—When it pleased God of His goodness yesternight a -little before supper to visit suddenly my dearest jewel under God next -to my Sovereign, with mortality of sickness, and that it hath pleased -God of his goodness to take that sweet babe from me, he surely was a -toward child. I thought it rather by myself than by common report you -should understand it from me, that though it nips me near, yet the fear -I have of God and the dutiful care to discharge my duty and trust my -mistress puts me in, makes me now that he is gone to put away needless -care and to look about me that I am put in trust withal—and, my Lord, -because I doubt my wife will show more folly than need requires, I pray -your Lordship write your letter to her, which I hope will greatly rule -her. So wishing to your Lordship perfect health, I take my leave. -Sheffield, 12th of August, 1577. - - “Your Lordship’s assured friend, - “G. SHREWSBURY.”[55] - - -To Walsingham the Earl also announces this news, adding, “Howbeit, I do -not willingly obey unto His will who took him, who only lent him me, -without grudging thereat; but my wife (although she acknowledge no less) -is not so well able to rule her passions, and hath driven herself into -such case by her continual weeping, as it likes to breed in her further -inconvenience.” Wherefore he is particularly anxious to join her at -Chatsworth, and begs that the Queen shall be “moved” for the requisite -permission. - -This visit was ended by the beginning of November, when Queen Mary was -once more bundled back to Sheffield. At this time she seems to have been -on the best of terms with Earl and Countess, and ready to do them every -kindness in her power. For instance, she sent to France for a bed for -them. But as this was not at the moment acceptable she mentions in a -letter her intention to “fulfil my promise by another bed of finer -stuff.” It came to her knowledge that they required half a dozen great -hall candlesticks such as those “made at Crotelles,” whereupon she sent -for “the largest, richest, and best made.” These were to be sent among -articles ordered by her servants, “so that they may create no -suspicion.” - -It is sometimes hard to distinguish from her bribes the presents Mary -made out of sheer generosity. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - “BRUITS” - - -In a letter quoted in the previous chapter Lord Burghley had told Lord -Shrewsbury that the Queen herself would write to him on the subject of -the new-old rumours about Mary’s escape. Elizabeth, of course, did -write, and very seriously, about these reports “from sundry places -beyond the sea,” and in that letter (of September, 1577) she gave her -servant full powers to use his own discretion in making things secure. -But by the spring of 1578 she was not quite so sure of him. The -mischief-making at Court had done its usual work. The Queen was very -cruelly placed always between two parties—Mary’s friends and Mary’s -enemies. To all, as her courtiers, she must preserve a certain show of -grace and unswerving discretion, holding always the balance between the -Argus-eyed alertness of the first and the many-winged suspicions of the -last. These suspicions were often grossly exaggerated. There were some -at least who desired the prisoner’s freedom, but not her usurpation of -the English throne and a third religious revolution. On the other hand, -there were men, who, though powerful under Elizabeth, could quickly have -transferred their allegiance to the other sovereign. Again, at all hours -“posts” from various ports could bring in secret information under the -excellently inclusive system organised by Elizabeth’s chief adviser. - -Tugged this way and that in her fears for the stability of the kingdom, -and at times driven to a pitch of intense alarm, the Queen’s confidence -in the capacity of the Earl at Sheffield varied according to the tales -poured into her ear. - -A crisis of this kind had been slowly brewing since the autumn, till in -the opening of this year it was actually decided to remove Mary to -Leicestershire, and place her under the roof and guard of Lord -Huntingdon. Everything was arranged, even down to the despatch of the -usual warnings to the surrounding officials of the counties through -which the Scots Queen must pass. And then—the usual hitch. Shrewsbury, -of course, scented trouble and disgrace, and before definite orders -could reach him as to the change, he wrote to the Queen: “To answer -somewhat,” he rightly says, “in this letter is part of my duty, lest my -silence should breed suspicion.” And no wonder! For “I am informed that -there are reports ... that I am too much at the devotion of this lady, -and so the less to be trusted, and that it was considered better to -dispose her elsewhere out of my custody, to my dishonour and disgrace.” -He pleads stoutly, as always, for the recognition of his -single-heartedness and loyalty. He desires only “to be acquitted of -blame by the Queen’s own goodness.” He challenges her equity and good -faith: “I presume with your favour not to excuse myself, but to be -cleared thereof by your own just judgment.” - -He points out that had he desired to espouse Mary’s cause he might have -done so far earlier in the day:— - - -“When her liberty was sought, and her case pleaded with sword in hand, -herself in force enough as she supposed to achieve her highest -enterprise, if any hope had been to her of my inclination that way I -might have had an office at her hand with little reward as the greatest -traitor they had, and been offered golden mountains.” But even Mary, as -he points out, knows her ground, and would not attempt to approach him: -“She was without hope of me and durst reveal nothing to me.” He hates -the notion of any upheaval in the realm: “A change bringeth nothing but -destruction of him that desireth it.” - - -The Queen, after her usual custom after writing a letter of admonition, -softened it down by a kind and rather contradictory little message, to -which he alludes in a postscript: “Thanks for your gracious messages by -my son Gylbard, among others, that I should not credit bruits, but you -would be careful of me.” Elizabeth also included gracious messages to -his “daughter Lynox and her child,” the which, he assured the Queen, -were a great comfort to Lady Shrewsbury. - -For the rest, how could the poor fellow help believing “bruits”? This -kind of gracious royal message was very well in its way, but he must -have known that it amounted to nothing. There arose, as he was well -aware, other kinds of rumours concerning him and his which were much -less mendacious, though they were probably grossly increased by -scandalmongers. - -Family correspondence has proved how strained were the conjugal -relations of Earl and Countess, and how a barrier beginning, seemingly, -with a foundation no less tangible than an armful of tapestries (but -subsequently solidified by the sheer masonry of Chatsworth) had grown up -between them. All matters of private dispute were complicated by their -own difficulties in regard to the tenants of their various estates and -any neighbours with whom they were on bad terms. Little by little the -fact that the house of Shrewsbury was not at peace with itself must -penetrate to the greater world. Servants carried the news into the -county. If my Lord blazed and my Lady retorted fiercely and shrilly, -matters could not be kept within four walls. And so, though it belongs -to a year later than the crisis which now brooded, a very long letter is -here inserted because it is so pertinent to the affairs of the Talbots -and Cavendishes. Without going needlessly into business details here, it -must be explained that all the disputes with tenants, etc., to which the -letter alludes, were calculated from the Queen’s point of view to -disaffect the people in the immediate neighbourhood of the Earl, and -give them ground for opposing him and furthering the cause of Mary -merely out of spiteful motives. Certain tenants complained, it seems, -that they had been turned out of properties leased to them by the Earl, -and actually carried the matter up to the Lords of the Council for their -arbitration. The Lords took no violent action in the matter, while the -Earl denied the charges, and brought countercharge of ill-treatment. -Eventually, after correspondence and discussion, the Council discharged -the complainants without punishment beyond a little admonition; and -after due examination of the man Higgenbotham mentioned in this letter, -decided that his offence was exaggerated, and recommended him to the -Earl’s clemency. Eventually the unfortunate Earl had to give in and -reinstate his restive men of Glossopdale in their farms, so that his own -popularity might be assured in order to serve the purposes of his Queen. - -The letter from Gilbert is addressed to “My Lord, my Father”:— - - -“My duty most humbly remembered, right honourable my singular good Lord -and father. Your letters, sent by my lacquey of the 10th of this May, I -received the 13th, at which time my Lord of Leicester was at Wanstead -where he yet remains, and therefore I presently delivered your -Lordship’s to the Queen’s Majesty to Mr. Secretary Walsingham, to be -delivered by him, the weather being wet and rainy and therefore no hope -that her Majesty would walk or come abroad, so as I might deliver it -myself. But whilst I stood by he read your Lordship’s letter to himself, -the which he liked very well; and said that he perceived thereby that -your Lordship meant to deal well with your tenants, whereof he was very -glad, for that he knew also that it would very well content her Majesty; -but very little more speech he had with me at that time, and, since, I -hear that he has delivered your Lordship’s letter to her Majesty, the -which she also has taken in very good part. The other letter, to my Lord -Leicester, I sent forthwith to him to Wanstead, but he returns not till -to-morrow, having been there all this week; and I hear nothing from him -thereof. I likewise delivered your Lordship’s letter to my Lord -Treasurer, who liked it very well; and said that he was very glad that -your Lordship took his plain dealing with you in his letter in so good -part. And thus this tragedy I hope is at an end, until the coming up of -Higgenbotham, with such proofs as your Lordship shall send against him. - -“We have had no little ado with these unreasonable people of Ashford, -whereof this bearer can inform your Lordship at length; but now they are -all returned back again, and none of those letters that were sent up to -the Council, or any other concerning that matter, were delivered, but -sent down to my Lady again; yet it was thought good that I should make -my Lord of Leicester privy to the coming of these persons; the which I -did the same day that they came to town; and, when I had told him at -length how the case stood, he agreed with me that it was a plain -practice;[56] yet, nevertheless wished that (if by any means possible) -we should stay them from complaining; saying, in general words, that if -they were not stayed, there would fall out greater inconvenience both to -your Lordship and my Lady than you were aware of, how false and untrue -soever their complaints were. But, before that, he enquired of the town -where they dwelt, which when I had described to him, he well remembered, -and that he had angled and fished at the end of that town; and said that -he thought it belonged wholly to my Lady; and asked whether your -Lordship did meddle therewith or not. I answered him that your Lordship -had wholly left it to my Lady, to use at her pleasure, and was not privy -that her Ladyship dealt therewith. ‘Well,’ quoth he, ‘but for all that -assure yourself that whosoever set these varlets and the others on, had -no less evil meaning towards my Lord than my Lady; for there is no -difference made, neither in the Queen’s opinion nor any others but -whatsoever concerns one of them, touches them both alike; and yet,’ -quoth he, ‘I never heard of any practice for the removing of my -Lordship’s charge, but, amongst other things, this was ever one: that -there was no good agreement betwixt my Lord and my Lady: and that it was -informed, both to the Queen and others, that there was a secret division -between your doings, and,’ quoth he, ‘if it were known I verily believe -the same has now been informed, and it is not long since I heard it, -when I am assured that there never was any such thing; but,’ quoth he, -‘by the Eternal God, if they could ever bring the Queen to believe it -that there were jars betwixt them, she would be in such a fear as it -would sooner be the cause of the removing of my Lordship’s charge than -any other thing; for I think verily,’ quoth he, ‘she could never sleep -quietly after, as long as that Queen remained with them’; and, next to -this it troubles the Queen most when she hears that you are not so well -beloved of your tenants as she would wish, which was the cause of her -late earnest letter, ‘the which,’ quoth he, ‘I could not stay if my life -had lain thereon. Well,’ quoth he, ‘I am glad all these former matters -are so well satisfied; and, to conclude,’ quoth he, ‘I pray God that my -Lord and Lady have none but faithful and true servants about them, and -that none of them do, by indirect means, cause it to be informed -sometimes hither that there are mislikes or disagreements betwixt them -when there are none at all.’ I leave to write unto your Lordship my -answers to many of these his Lordship’s speeches, for they would be too -long; and your Lordship may think that either I answered according to my -duty, and to the truth, or else I forgot myself overmuch. All this -speech I had with him before he went to Wanstead, which is five days -since. The secret opinion is now that the matter of Monseigneur’s[57] -coming and especially the marriage, is grown very cold, and Simier like -shortly to go over; and yet I know a man may take a thousand pounds in -this town, to be bound to pay double so much when Monseigneur comes into -England and treble so much when he marries the Queen’s Majesty, and if -he neither do the one nor the other, to gain the thousand pound clear. -This is all the news that I hear. And thus, my wife and I, most humbly -beseeching your Lordship’s daily blessings, with our wonted prayer, upon -our knees, for your long continuance in all honour, most perfect health, -and long long life, I cease. - -“At your Lordship’s little house near Charing Cross, this present -Friday, late at night, 15th of May, 1579. - - “Your Lordship’s most humble and - obedient loving son, - “GILBERT TALBOT. - -“I wish it would please your Lordship to remember my Lord Chancellor -with some gift. It would be very well bestowed.” - - -Thus, because of the possibility of larger treasons, the warder of Mary -of Scotland and his family must needs swallow their private grievances, -forgive their truculent tenants, and appear wreathed with smiles. They -must maintain their estate, in spite of their increasing liabilities and -the churlishness of the Royal Exchequer, and above all they must keep my -Lord Treasurer well supplied with _douceurs_. - -Why they did not sell a portion of their vast inheritance at this -juncture in order to make matters comfortable one cannot understand. In -London the Earl’s creditors were pressing him, and he was too -conscientious to let the matter stand longer than avoidable. - -A new responsibility was about to be thrust on the Talbots in securing -the hereditary rights of their grandchild Arabella. For the Dowager Lady -Lennox died in this year quite suddenly at her house at Hackney. It was -odd that the guest who last saw her was the man whom she had accused of -slaying his wife, and whose treachery she had once denounced. Lord -Leicester went down to talk business with her at Hackney, relating, no -doubt, to the sorry state of her financial affairs, and stayed to dine -with her. Just after he left she was taken violently ill, and died two -days later. What she had to bequeath—and Heaven knows it was little -enough—in the way of jewels she left to Arabella Stuart. With the death -of her son, Lennox, the ties which bound her to life practically -disappeared, and she succumbed at the age of sixty-seven to a disease -which must have been aggravated by the terrible misfortunes of her -extraordinary life. Her own dowry of Scottish lands made her no return -because of the war-bound condition of her native country; the sons who -owned the estates conferred on her husband by Henry VIII were all dead. -Her land in Yorkshire passed from her with the death, one presumes, of -her last son, and her fatherless granddaughter was, as Strickland says, -“heiress to nought but sorrow and a royal pedigree.” - -It was evident that a push must be made to protect the rights of the -child. Queen Mary herself sent for the old lady’s jewels on behalf of -her little niece, but on the other hand she urged her son’s guardians to -put forward his claims. This was not with a view to destroying the -chances of Arabella, but merely to assert his family rights, lest he -should be regarded as a foreigner. A counterblast to this was the action -of Elizabeth, who took the child under her protection. This fulfilled -the heart’s desire of Elizabeth Shrewsbury. Yet it did not avail her -much. The right to do as he chose with the earldom was by young James, -under the influence of his nobles, claimed for Scotland, and he was made -to grant the earldom to the Bishop of Caithness, a man advanced in years -and without heir, chosen purposely for present convenience until another -Stuart—Esmé Stuart, Lord d’Aubigny, should claim it. Lord and Lady -Shrewsbury wrote in deprecation to Lord Leicester on the subject, -entreating Elizabeth’s intervention:[58] “Unless the Queen will write in -most earnest sort to the King of Scotland on her little ward’s -behalf ... we cannot but be in some despair.... The Bishop of -Caithness ... is an old sickly man without a child; and I think it is -done that D’Aubigny, being in France and the next heir male, should -succeed him. My wife says that the old Lord Lennox told her long ago of -D’Aubigny’s seeking to prevent the infant.” - -Subsequently Mary declined to open any negotiations with Esmé Stuart in -her own affairs, both because she did not trust him and because she was -desirous not to give offence to “our right well-beloved cousin, -Elizabeth, Countess of Shrewsbury.” This is proof enough that her first -move in regard to the matter had been one of pure policy and was to be -regarded as quite apart from her private sentiments. It were well if she -had never sent the recommendation. - -Other rumours of the moment gathered special force, and were perhaps of -more importance to the nation at large than was the possible escape of -Mary. They were rumours of the Queen’s marriage. Anjou’s wooing was a -long business. It lasted over nine years. Elizabeth was just now -revelling in rather a skittish mood in spite of the wild “bruits” about -her health. It was said that she was threatened with epilepsy; at all -events she could enjoy herself, and receive fantastic love letters, -while she shortened the leash by which she held Mary, and docked her of -any semblance of liberty. It did not seem to depress the Virgin Queen -that her royal suitor was only twenty. She always pretended great -coyness towards all gentlemen, and there is an odd touch in the way she -scolded Gilbert Talbot for inadvertently gazing upon her in her early -morning deshabille as she stood at a casement. - - -“On May Day I saw her Majesty, and it pleased her to speak to me very -graciously. In the morning about eight o’clock I happened to walk in the -Tiltyard, under the gallery where her Majesty used to stand to see the -running at tilt; where by chance she was, and looking out of the window, -my eye was full towards her, she showed to be greatly ashamed thereof, -for that she was unready, and in her night stuff; so when she saw me -after dinner, as she went to walk, she gave me a great fillip on the -forehead, and told my Lord Chamberlain, who was the next to her, how I -had seen her that morning, and how much ashamed she was. And, after, I -presented unto her the remembrance of your Lordship’s and my Ladyship’s -bounden duty and service; and said that you both thought yourselves most -bounden to her for her most gracious dealing towards your daughter my -Lady of Lennox; and that you assuredly trusted in the continuance of her -favourable goodness to her and her daughter. And she answered that she -always found you more thankful than she gave cause....” - - -That last sentence rings with ironical truth. As they read it Earl and -Countess might well merge their differences and smile unanimously—a -somewhat bitter smile! - - - - - CHAPTER XV - RUTH AND JOYUSITIE - - -The dashing suitor of Mary of Scotland, Don John of Austria, was dead. -Her rival was on the edge of a marriage with a son of Mary’s stoutest -champion—France. It was a bad moment for the prisoner. It was not a -pleasant time for the Talbots. Life at Sheffield could be varied only by -letters from Gilbert, though his parents must to some extent have been -cheered by the prospect of his speedily having another heir. His wife -was attended by no less a person than the famous physician of my Lord of -Leicester, a certain Mr. Julio, who seems, on all accounts, to have -known a great deal too much about the unholy drugs which the Medici -found so useful, though his skill as a physician could not be gainsaid. -Gilbert Talbot at least seems flourishing. He is free to come and go; he -is quite a “citizen of the world.” He executes commissions for his -family, his purchases are practical, and he is thoughtful for his -stepmother’s needs. “There are two Friesland horses,” he writes, “of a -reasonable price for their goodness; I have promised the fellow for them -£33; I think them especial good for my Ladyship’s coach; I will send -them down.” He despatches constant reports of his wife’s health, and of -the repairs and decorations which he is superintending in “Shrewsbury -House,” otherwise the Earl’s house in “Broad Street” from which Gilbert -writes. A special ceiling was being designed for this, the building was -to be newly glazed, and the family coat-of-arms inserted in the windows -in stained glass. In a postscript he heralds a private letter from the -Queen to Lady Shrewsbury, which is not forthcoming. “My Lord, my -brother[59] tarrieth only for her Majesty’s letter to my Lady, which, -she saith, she will write in her own hand, so as nobody shall be -acquainted with a word therein till my Lady receive it. I have not seen -her look better a great while, neither better disposed; the living God -continue it.” - -The composition of this young gentleman is always rather vague and his -punctuation hazy. He means, of course, that it is the Queen who is in -such good health and humour. She was very busy puzzling everyone over -her projected marriage, and sketching Court entertainments in connection -with it. Even while she felt the gravity of such a step she would dally -with it, thrust away apparently all but the lighter side of things. She -kept her Privy Council sitting “from eight o’clock in the morning until -dinner-time; and presently after dinner, and an hour’s conference with -her Majesty’s Council again, and so till supper-time.” All this strain -was induced, Gilbert assures the household at Sheffield, by “the matter -of Monsigneur coming here, his entertainment here, and what demands are -to be made unto him in the treaty of marriage ...; and I can assure your -Lordship it is verily thought this marriage will come to pass of a great -sort of wise men; yet nevertheless there are divers others like Sr. -Thomas of Jude who would not believe till he had both seen and felt. It -is said that Monseigneur will certainly be here in May next.... It is -said that he will be accompanied with three dukes, ten earls, and a -hundred other gentlemen.” - -The suitor came—but more or less secretly—and departed. It was not till -nearly a year later that the cat-and-mouse game which Elizabeth played -with him approached a crisis in the shape of a splendid pageant at -Whitehall, which she organised to dazzle the French Ambassador, and to -give the impression that this affair was really to be accomplished. Gay -times those—with Sir Philip Sidney’s art and grace to lead the pomps and -ceremonies! Everyone of importance was invited. “Her talk,”[60] says a -contemporary of Elizabeth, “was of tournaments and balls; her one desire -was that the fairest ladies in England should grace her Court. The Lords -were bidden to bring their families to London that there might be the -bustle of constant gaiety. The merchants were ordered to sell their -silks, velvets, and cloth of gold at a reduction of a quarter of the -ordinary price that more should be induced to buy, and so enhance the -general splendour.” - -Alack for the Shrewsburys! No gay invitation appears to have summoned -them from the wilds of their county to witness the famous pageant and -the battle of flowers and perfumes waged this year in the tiltyard at -Whitehall, or applaud the splendid chariot of “my Lady Desire” and her -four gallant sons, of whom Sir Philip Sidney personated one. - -Such happiness and all that which Mary of Scotland, in a letter, termed -“joyusitie” was a thing apart from existence at Sheffield, and she, who -loved all such fantastical gaieties, who knew as much as any of them of -love practices and flowery games, who could play even with peasant folk -like a child, looked wistfully forth upon the world from the leads of -her castle-prison or from the meadows close to the Lodge, its neighbour. -From 1579 to 1581 her affairs and those of the Talbots are full of small -events, things which kept them alert, yet brought but little result. The -Earl was watched closely by Elizabeth. He could not even leave home for -two days without sharp reprimand, although he never absented himself for -an hour without knowing that his prisoner was absolutely secure, while -his servants kept him carefully informed of her condition. One of them, -for example, by name George Skargelle, a constant eye-witness of the -Shrewsbury tragi-comedy, not only reports upon the prisoner, but scours -the immediate neighbourhood to see what is going on: “May yt plese your -honner to understand that your L’ house is quyet and well, God be -pressed; and the Quene is sarvet wth. her vetteles and wille plesed for -thes II dayes.” He goes to the Castle gardens “to see what stir there -was of your Lordship’s follkes” and found certain fellows playing at -dice, while in the town of Sheffield he discovered other gamblers at -cards. After this he breaks a lance in speech with his master’s -truculent “bad tenants of Glossopdale,” whom he so mistrusted that he -gave information of their presence to the men at the bridges and the -watches, and to the owners of the houses where the travellers lodged. -The Queen heard of the Earl’s absence (for there were always people -ready to report the least movement of so notable a county resident), and -belaboured him in a letter. He begged her to allow him to come to Court -and justify himself. For many reasons he longed to do this. He was weary -of writing endless letters to her and to the Treasury. His personal -debts weighed on his conscience, and his enemies were always trying to -make out that he could not be in any need of supplies because of his -large estates. Big houses are big thieves, and what with his large -double family and the costs entailed by his position, even his trade -projects—he was among other things an owner of lead and exporter of -it—did not keep him in sufficient ready money to maintain all his houses -and fulfil his landlord’s liabilities as he would have wished. He was -not personally an extravagant man, and displays none of the magnificent -tastes of his wife in regard to his house and person. He declared that -his creditors should be satisfied rather than he should use expensive -household articles. “I would have you buy me glasses to drink in,” he -wrote in 1580 to his servant Baldwin. “Send me word what old plate -yields the ounce, for I will not leave me a cup to drink in, but I will -see the next term my creditors paid.” He may have made a special point -of this in order that Baldwin should use the statement as a pathetic -plea when making application to the Treasury for payments due to his -master, the main reason the Earl had for keeping his representative in -London. He had felt deeply the false reports of his income spread about -by local detractors, who were probably also responsible for the -statement that he was now keeping his prisoner on short commons. His -sensations and those of the Countess on hearing of this from Lord -Leicester can well be imagined. The statement had been handed on to him -by the French Ambassador in London, and Leicester told him it would -“much mislike her Majesty.” - -The accusation runs: “That your Lordship doth of late keep the Scotch -Queen very barely of her diet, insomuch as on Easter day last she had -both so few dishes and so bad meat in them as it was too bad to see it; -and that she finding fault thereat your Lordship should answer that you -were cut off your allowance, and therefore could yield her no better.” - -And yet Shrewsbury could forgive the Queen’s suspicions and, tolerably -happy in the birth of a granddaughter, despite the fact that a male heir -to Gilbert would have rejoiced him far more, instructed his son Francis -to present for him a New Year’s present to Elizabeth. - -Simultaneously no time was lost, no trouble grudged in worrying -Burghley, “her Majesty’s housewife” as the Earl rather ironically terms -him in one letter, with regard to a settlement of the everlasting claim -for “this Queen’s diet.” Indeed, one can only imagine that this word -“diet,” by which the cost of the board of the Scottish Mary is always -signified in succeeding correspondence, must have held in the Earl’s -mind and heart the same place as the name of Calais in the mind of Mary -of England. Robert Beale, a clerk of the Privy Council and personal -friend of the Shrewsburys, did his best for them, but despite his kindly -despatches—one of which has a pretty allusion to “my little Lady -Favour,” evidently Lady Arabella Stuart—payment was tardy. Even the -scanty allowance originally decided upon had been deliberately reduced -by royal order. For the hundredth time he tackled anew the official -“housewife” with the words: “I have made suit to her Highness for some -recompense, in which I do find so cold comfort that I am near driven to -despair to obtain anything.” Elsewhere he speaks pathetically of “the -cark and care” which is his portion. “My riches they talk of are in -other men’s purses,” he complains bitterly; “God knows I make many -shifts to keep me out of debt and to help my children, which are heavy -burdens though comfortable, so long as they do well. I can say no more, -but I have spies near about me and know them well.” - -At last, in the August of 1582, in sheer despair of obtaining -satisfaction, and sick of employing intermediaries, he wrote to the -Queen:— - - - “May it please your most excellent Majesty, - -“Having then ten years been secluded from your most gracious sight and -happy presence, which more grieveth me than any travel or discommodity -that I have suffered in this charge that it hath pleased your Majesty to -put me in trust withal, I have taken the boldness most humbly to beseech -your Majesty that it may please the same to license me for a fortnight’s -journey towards your Majesty’s royal person; to the end you may by -myself receive a true account of my said charge, and thereby know what -my deservings are. Wherein, if I may (as I desire most earnestly) -satisfy your Majesty, it shall be unto me a great encouragement to -continue the most faithful duty and careful service that I owe unto your -Majesty, and shall yield to my life’s end.” - - -This permission was in a fair way to be granted as far as letters could -show, and the good, timid, dogged Earl made all arrangements, settled -the stages of his journey, ordered bedding and lodging, and planned his -retinue: “I think my company will be twenty gentlemen and twenty yeomen, -besides their men and my horsekeepers.” He only waited for his journey -till Chesterfield Fair was over and the crowds of suspicious loafers -dispersed. But he waited far too long. The plague had seized London and -had increased apace; he dreaded the cold journey south in the autumn -storms; he dreaded an aggravated attack from “the enemy”—gout. - -Simultaneously with this disappointment came sharper sorrow—the death of -Francis Talbot. The event presented itself to Lord Leicester as worthy -of one of those flowery, humbugging, sententious, idiotic letters of -which he wrote so many in his crowded life. This unscrupulous idler, -living on the fat of the land and overheaped with gifts and favours, -presents a very odd picture as he conjures an afflicted, upright, and -overburdened contemporary to count up his blessings: “The Lord hath -blessed you many ways in this world, and not least with the blessing of -children for your posterity.” This from a fellow who could disown his -legitimate son by denying a lawful marriage with the mother! And again: -“He that hath sent you many might have given you fewer, and He that took -away this might also take away the rest. Be thankful to Him for all His -doings, my good Lord, and take all in that good part which you ought; be -you wholly His, and seek His kingdom, for it far surpasses all worldly -kingdoms.” This from the shrewd sycophant who was waiting day after day -to be announced as consort of the Queen of England! - -To return on our paces a little. The health of Queen Mary was extremely -unsatisfactory. From 1579 right on through the eighties she addressed -letter after letter of piteous entreaties for freedom to Elizabeth, and -to the ambassador Mauvissière. Sometimes, for weeks at a time, she could -not leave her bed owing to the pain in her side. Sometimes the hardly -won permission to go to Buxton would revive her spirits. On one occasion -she fell backwards from her horse just as she was mounting, and injured -herself severely. Sometimes she was kept closely guarded at Buxton, and -on others she would be allowed to see something of the country close to -it. In 1577 she was so ailing that she made her will. But she would -revive to write endless spirited letters, to plead incessantly and -indignantly against the way in which her French dowry, the only income -she now had, was being dissipated and misappropriated in France, and to -make eager preparations for hunting expeditions, to few of which, as she -confessed, she expected Lord Shrewsbury would give his consent. At the -end of 1581 she was so worn out by secret suspense in regard to her -fate, by constraint, and by lack of air and exercise—the simple remedies -which in years past had helped her to conquer all bodily ills—that for -once her courage left her. She begged for special doctors other than -those who ordinarily attended her. She worked herself into an agony over -the position of her son, and finally begged that the Queen would send -assistance to her “as that she might not be cast away for want of such -help of physicians and things as she needed.” - -Robert Beale, already mentioned in his connection with the Privy -Council, who was really sent down at this juncture to Sheffield to -investigate the political relationship between Mary and her son, found -the household in a depressing condition. Lord Shrewsbury had a bad -attack of gout, and though the Countess was not described as ill, her -frame of mind cannot have been very cheerful. Everyone seems to have -poured out his woes in Beale’s ears, while he stuck to his purpose, and -tried to secure a definite answer as to whether or no Mary would -formally yield the Scottish crown to her son. A clear answer from her he -never had. She was ill, hysterical, and, to his thinking and that of the -Earl, full of trickery. They believed that she asked for a special -physician from London because it might give her a chance of carrying out -some scheme to her advantage in connection with the Duke of Alençon, who -was expected in England. One night when she sent specially for Beale he -arrived to find the room in sudden darkness, and Mary in bed, with the -dim shadowy figures of her chamberwomen hovering about her. Among those -shadowy ladies in the bedchamber was still the devoted Mary Seton, to -whom had come some years previously ruth which her mistress also shared. -Not only had the loyal prægustator, John Beton, died in the earlier days -of the long imprisonment, but his brother and successor in the post, -Andrew, had passed away. With Andrew, who courted her passionately, the -Seton had at last fallen in love. The only barrier to their union was a -most inexplicable vow of celibacy which the girl had taken. With the -approval of his brother, Archbishop Beton, and the encouragement of his -royal mistress, the gallant Andrew overcame his lady’s dread of the -married estate, and undertook to secure papal dispensation from her vow. -It was on his journey back from Rome to Sheffield that he died. - -Beale, as aforesaid, found himself nonplussed by the gloom of the -Queen’s apartments; and as for talking business it was impossible, for -she received him with sobs. - -Because of “her weeping and her women in the dark I brake off,” he wrote -to Walsingham. He went away and reported this uncanny interview to the -Earl, who sent his lady to her. Mary was asleep or shamming, and all -Lady Shrewsbury could do was to chat vaguely with Mary Seton about “the -suddenness of her sickness.” Later on the same careful enquiries were -made by the Countess, whose shrewd deduction was, “I have known her -worse and recover again.” Her Ladyship was, if not head nurse on these -occasions, certainly official inspectress, and Beale reported that -whether Mary was dangerously ill or not she was obliged to use medicine -and poultices, at which he had himself sniffed inquisitively, and which -Lady Shrewsbury had seen applied. - -Presently there was a decided improvement in the condition of the -invalid, and Elizabeth allowed Mary’s carriage to be sent to her so that -she might drive within the limits of the Sheffield manor estate, whose -circumference in those days, as Leader assures us, was eight miles, and -covered an expanse of 2461 acres. Mary could not yet avail herself of -this distraction, so sore and feeble was her weakened body. Yet at all -times and seasons she was extraordinarily sensitive to the joys and -sorrows of persons in her environment. The birth of Gilbert’s daughter -already mentioned was just such an occasion for her goodness and -generosity. She stood godmother to the child and sent to France for -presents. These family occurrences complicated the Earl’s business -considerably, and he took great precautions on this occasion that the -event should not come to pass under the same roof as that which held his -captive. At the end of the letter, in which he instructs Baldwin to make -certain payments to his daughter-in-law’s nurse, he says: “I am removed -to the castle, and most quiet when I have the fewest women here, and am -best able to discharge the trust reposed in me.” - -He had still further occasion for this attitude, for another blow fell -upon his family. Young Lady Lennox died. As usual it was the Earl who -made the formal announcement of the loss at Court, for his wife was, as -on a previous occasion, too distraught to collect her wits. - - - “My very good Lords, - -“It hath pleased God to call to His mercy out of this transitory world -my daughter Lennox, this present Sunday, being the 21st of January, -about three of the clock in the morning. Both towards God and the world -she made a most godly and good end, and was in most perfect memory all -the time of her sickness even to the last hour. Sundry times did she -make her most earnest and humble prayer to the Almighty for her -Majesty’s most happy estate and the long and prosperous continuance -thereof, and as one most infinitely bound to her Highness, humbly and -lowly beseeched Her Majesty to have pity upon her poor orphan Arabella -Stewart, and as at all times heretofore both the mother and poor -daughter were most infinitely bound to her Highness, so her assured -trust was that Her Majesty would continue the same accustomed goodness -and bounty to the poor child she left, and of this her suit and humble -petition my said daughter Lennox, by her last will and testament, -requireth both your Lordships, to whom she found and acknowledged -herself always most bound in her name, most lowly to make this humble -petition to Her Majesty and to present with all humility unto Her -Majesty a poor remembrance (delivered by my daughter’s own hands) which -very shortly will be sent, with my daughter’s most humble prayer for her -Highness’ most happy estate, and most lowly beseeching her Highness in -such sort to accept thereof as it pleased the Almighty to receive the -poor widow’s mite. - -“My wife taketh my daughter Lennox’s death so grievously that she -neither doth nor can think of anything but of lamenting and weeping. I -thought it my part to signify to both your Lordships in what sort God -hath called her to his mercy, which I beseech you make known to Her -Majesty and thus with my very hearty commendations to both your good -Lordships I cease. - - “Sheffield Manor this 21st January, 1581–2. - “Your Lordships’ assured - “G. SHREWSBURY. - -“To Lord Burghley and Lord Leicester.”[61] - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - VOLTE FACE - - -The death of her daughter Elizabeth Lennox proved a heavy blow to Bess -Shrewsbury. At first she did not realise the full force of it. -Everything possible had been done to secure puissant support and -interest for Elizabeth and her child Arabella immediately on the death -of her husband and mother-in-law. - -The will executed by Queen Mary in 1577 specially named Arabella Stuart -as heiress to her father’s earldom, in the clause: “Je faitz don à -Arbelle, ma niepce, du compté de Lennox, tenu par feu son père, et -commande a mon filz comme mon heritier et successeur, d’obeyr en cest -endroict à ma volonté.” - -Further, the young widow herself had found courage to address Lord -Burghley:— - - -“I can but yield unto your Lordship most hearty thanks for your -continual goodness towards me and my little one, and specially for your -Lordship’s late good dealing with the Scots Ambassador for my poor -child’s right, for which, as also sundry otherwise we are for ever bound -to your Lordship whom I beseech still to further that cause as to your -Lordship may seem best. - -“I can assure your Lordship that the Earldom of Lennox was granted by -Act of Parliament to my Lord my late husband and the heirs of his body, -so that they should offer great wrong in seeking to take it from -Arbella, which I trust by your Lordships’ good means will be prevented, -being of your mere goodness for justice sake so well disposed thereto. -For all which your Lordship’s goodness as I am bound I rest in heart -more thankful than I can anyway express. - -“I take my leave of your Lordship, whom I pray God long to preserve. - -“At Newgate Street the 15th Aug. 1578. - - “Your Lordship’s, - “As I am bound, - “E. LENNOX.”[62] - - -Again, immediately on the death of the old Lady Lennox Mary had executed -this warrant dated Sept. 19, 1579, appointing any heirloom jewels to -Arabella:— - - -“To all people be it knowne that we Marie be the grace of God Quene of -Scotland, dowagier of Fraunce doo will and require Thomas Fowller soole -executor to our dearest mother in lawe and aunt, the lady Margret -countess of Lennox deceased, to deliver into the hands and cowstody of -our right well belowed cousines Elizabeth contess of Shrewsbury all and -every such juells, as the sayd Lady Margaret before her death delivered -and committed in charge to the said Thomas Fowller for the use of the -lady Arbella Stewart her graund chyld if God send her lyf till fowrten -yeres of age; if not then, for the use of our deare and only sonne the -prince of Scotland. In witness that this is owre will and desire to the -sayd Fowller we have gewen the present under our owne hand at Shefild -Manor, the XIX off September the year of our lord M.D. threscore and -nyntenth, and of our regne the thretty sixth.”[63] - - -In addition Mary wrote at this time to “Monsieur de Glasgo” one of her -Archbishops, in such a manner as shows her sincere attitude towards the -Lennox succession. This letter embodies the important fact of the -interposition of Queen Elizabeth, while the warrant just quoted awards -the care of the jewels not to the mother but the maternal grandmother of -the Stuart heiress. - - -“The Countess of Lennox, my mother-in-law died about a month ago, and -the Q. of E^d. has taken into her care her ladyship’s grand daughter -(Arabella S.). I desire those who are about my son to make instances in -his name for this succession, not for any desire I have that he should -actually succeed to it, but rather to testify that neither he nor I -ought to be reputed or treated as foreigners in England who are both -born within the same isle. - -“This good lady was, thank God, in very good correspondence with me -these 5 or 6 years bygone, and has confessed to me by sundry letters -under her hand, which I carefully preserve, the injury she did me by the -unjust pursuits wh. she allowed to go against me in her name, thro’ bad -information, but principally, she said thro’ the express orders of the -Q. of Ed. and the persuasions of her council, who took much solicitude -that we might never come to good understanding together. But as soon as -she came to know of my innocence, she desisted from any further suit -against me.”[64] - - -Lady Shrewsbury may or may not have felt the support of Mary -ineffectual, but she must have hoped everything from Elizabeth, and to -Lord Burghley’s condolences wrote thus:— - - -“My honourable good Lord, your Lordship hath heard by my Lo. how it hath -pleased God to visit me; but in what sort soever his pleasure is to lay -his heavy hand on us we must take it thankfully. It is good reason his -holy will should be obeyed. My honourable good Lord I shall not need -here to make long recital to your Lo. how that in all my greatest -matters I have been singularly bound to your Lo. for your Lo. good and -especial favour to me, and how much your Lo. did bind me, the poor woman -that is gone, and my Arbella, at our last meeting at Court, neither the -mother during her life, nor can I ever forget, but most thankfully -acknowledge it; and so I am well assured will the young babe when her -riper years will suffer her to know her best friends. And now my good -Lo. I hope her Majesty upon my most humble suit will let that portion -which her Majesty bestowed on my daughter and jewel Arbella, remain -wholly to the child for her better education. Her servants that are to -look to her, her masters that are to train her up in all good learning -and virtue, will require no small charges; wherefore my earnest request -to your Lo. is so to recommend this my humble suit to her Majesty as it -may soonest and easiest take effect; and I beseech your Lo. to give my -son William Cavendish leave to attend on your Lo. about this matter. And -so referring myself, my sweet jewel Arbella, and the whole matter to -your honourable and friendly consideration, I take my leave of your Lo. -to pardon me for that I am not able to write to your Lo. with my own -hand. Sheffield this 28th January. - - “Your L. most assured - loving friend - “E. SHREWSBURY.”[65] - - -Meanwhile the young King of Scotland took his own way, and Esmé Stuart -stepped eventually into the shoes of the newly appointed Lord Lennox—the -old Bishop of Caithness aforesaid—as intended by the nobles who -surrounded the Scottish throne. - -There was from the standpoint of King James sufficient excuse for this -device. Esmé was the nephew of the late Lord Lennox, Arabella’s -grandfather, and a close kinsman of the young King. He had courtly -training, culture, and diplomacy in his favour. He was nine years older -than the little sovereign, and he came to Scotland from France as the -accredited though secret representative of Rome and the Guises, to win -Scotland at one stroke back to its alliance with France and its -obedience to the Pope. He made his presence felt quickly enough and the -first-fruits of his coming was the seizure and execution of Lord -Morton—erstwhile Regent, and creature of Elizabeth—as a prominent agent -in the murder of Lord Darnley. Here for the moment we leave Esmé Stuart, -in Creighton’s concentrated phrase, as “master of Scotland ... the -English party practically destroyed.” - -Meanwhile, all the Countess of Shrewsbury could do was to write abject -letters to Elizabeth asking her to execute an order by which a settled -allowance should be conferred on Arabella. - -The Countess could obviously now have nourished no hopes of utilising -Mary’s influence. The Earl was in receipt of all outside information in -regard to Scotland and the English Court. It was patent that no help for -Mary could come from James, well primed since his cradle by the lords -who hated his mother. Bess Shrewsbury’s glorious dream of a throne for -Arabella stared at her now as a somewhat sickly vision. The only hopes -for the child were from an influential marriage. That Arabella’s -grandmother did confide her dream to Mary is evident from the very -curious revelations which the latter makes in subsequent letters, when -the Countess, once so friendly and communicative, if at times brusque -and inquisitorial, had turned against her to the extent of grave -“scandilation,” in the language of those days. - -This business of Arabella Stuart’s future marks a crisis in the -Shrewsbury household. It was like the tap given to a very vivid and -complex kaleidoscope, for it suddenly brought the relationship of the -three important personages—Earl, Countess, and Scottish Queen—into new -juxtaposition, and the true colour of the desires of the Countess shone -out more vividly for the changed order of things. To the mere onlooker -the matter is not made clear till much later. Only those immediately -concerned were aware of her gradual change of front, especially towards -her husband, and it was not yet that the full result of this apparent -volte face could be perceived. In order to understand how marked was -this change events must be anticipated by a year or two, and attention -given to an extraordinary letter from Queen Mary which betrays all sorts -of unauthorised intercourse between herself and Lady Shrewsbury. This -letter, penned by an always fanciful and extremely excitable woman, is -of course, an exaggeration of the Countess’s opportunism. Yet, there has -evidently been a gradual cessation of the friendly intimacy between the -two women, and a sufficient revelation of the Countess’s mind to give -Mary occasion to flare out to such a correspondent as the ambassador -Mauvissière. In this letter, of the year 1584, she speaks fiercely of -the treachery of Lady Shrewsbury—“La fausseté de mon honorable -hostesse”—which she wishes made clear to Elizabeth: “Rien n’a jamais -aliené la susdite de moy que la vaine espérance par elle conçue de faire -tomber cette couronne sur la teste d’Arbella sa petite-fille, mesmement -par son mariage avec le fils du comte de Leicester, divers tokens estant -passez entre les enfants nourris en cette persuasion, et leurs peintures -envoyées d’une part et l’aultre.” She goes on to say that but for this -imaginary hope—“une telle imagination”—of making one of her race royal -the countess would never have so turned away from Mary—“ne se fult -jamais divertye de moy”—for, the writer continues:[66] “she was so bound -to me, and regardless of any other duty or regard, so affectionate -towards me that, had I been her own queen, she could not have done more -for me; and as a proof of this say to the Queen, pretending that you -heard it from Mrs. Seton last summer when she went to France, that I had -the sure promise of the said countess that if at any time my life were -in danger, or if I were to be removed from here, she would give me the -means of escape, and that she herself would easily elude danger and -punishment in respect to this; that she made her son Charles Cavendish -swear to me in her presence that he would reside in London on purpose to -serve me and warn me of all which passed at the Court, and that he would -actually keep two good strong geldings specially to let me have speedy -intelligence of the death of the Queen, who was ill at the time; and -that he thought to be able to do this.... Thereupon the said countess -and her sons used every possible persuasion to prove to me the danger to -which I was exposed in the hands of the Earl of Shrewsbury, who would -deliver me into the hands of my enemies or allow me to be surprised by -them, in such a manner that, without the friendship of the said -countess, I was in very bad case. To begin with you need only put -forward these two little examples, by which the Queen can judge what has -gone to make up the warp and woof[67] of the intercourse during the past -years between myself and the said countess, whom, if I wished, I could -place in a terrible position by giving the names of those persons who, -by her express order, have brought me letters in cypher, which she has -delivered to me with her own hand. It will be sufficient for you to tell -the Queen that you heard these particulars from the said Mrs. Seton, and -that you are positive that if it pleased her to make skilful enquiry -into the misconduct of the said countess, I could disclose other -features of greater importance which would cause considerable discomfort -to others about her. Contrive, if possible, that she[68] shall keep the -matter secret without ever naming who had been induced to reveal these -things by devotion to her welfare, that in short she may recognise what -faith she can place in the said countess, who in your opinion could be -won over to my cause, if I thought well, by a present of two thousand -crowns. - - -“You have afforded me peculiar satisfaction by sending copies of my -letters ... into France and Scotland, by which the truth of these -rumours may be known, rumours which I am certain only proceed from the -said countess and her son Charles; but since the witnesses by whom I can -prove my case are afraid to incur the displeasure of the Queen, I am -constrained to bide until I can find others to assist at a public -explanation and reparation. - -“Sheffield, 1584, March 21.” - - -This letter flies like a thunderbolt across the Shrewsbury heaven. The -lady’s ambition, according to her enemy, acknowledges no bounds, is no -respecter of persons. Mary she not only casts aside like an old glove, -but she assumes a triumphant, hostile attitude towards her. Through Lord -Leicester’s heir, Arabella will ensure the favour of the English throne, -while other means will be used to secure the Scottish throne itself for -the child. Portraits and “divers tokens” have passed between the -children. Bess is as sure of her power now as she was in the days when -she boasted that she could both assist Mary to escape and herself elude -retribution. Robust, rich, prosperous, swelled with her dreams, she -counts herself unassailable. Her mood of excitement tempts her, however, -further than her caution. Mary has spoken to Mauvissière of “rumours,” -reports so serious that they have reached even to Scotland and France. -She is sure that the Countess and her son Charles, once her sworn -servants, are the source of these. A letter, which must be quoted in -full here, written six months later to Mauvissière, makes the substance -of these rumours perfectly clear. - -If the correspondence already quoted come like a thunderbolt, this next -letter conveys a shock even greater. There is one really extraordinary -passage in the first letter which, though it concerns the Earl, does not -prepare the onlooker for the scandalous matter of the second epistle. -This passage is the one in which his wife has the audacity, according to -Mary, to warn the latter against the Earl. What is the psychological -process which forces such a statement from the shrewd, worldly-wise -woman whose fortunes, socially, are entirely bound to those of her -husband? What can it be but blind jealousy arising from consciousness of -their opposite natures and from the hostility of sex? The intrigues with -Mary, the opportunism, the blatant ambition—these are comprehensible. -Was it all true? In the light of later letters from Mary all such -statements must be regarded very sceptically. Division there certainly -was in the great household: scolding and bitterness, a great weariness -of heart, a series of sordid misunderstandings. If in a wild reckless -mood the emotional, powerful spirit of Bess Shrewsbury had escaped -control, and she had uttered the ghost of such a warning as that quoted, -it must have sprung from nothing but the blind hatred of Mary and -jealousy of her husband, the last having its source in her fierce -consciousness of an utter clash of temperaments. Her opportunism, her -immense ambitions are conceivable; even, to a certain degree, the -longing to intrigue with Mary. They are comprehensible if one estimates -the Countess’s nature as one in which the love of domination, the quick -sense of advantage, and the keen perception of the melodrama of life -were combined. The Earl’s nature was the very opposite. To him she must -have acted latterly like a goad, while his obstinacy maddened her. His -dogged patience under unwilling service, his bitter and almost stupid -resignation under the meanness and suspicion of his Queen, his caution -and method, his intense sensitiveness to any unjust criticism, his -horror of plots, his dread of any unauthorised move, be it ever so -trifling, formed a granite barrier to his wife’s independent, -self-concentrated, restless spirit. Her pugnacity tussled with his -resolution, and discord ensued. - -She whom Elizabeth darkly called “The Daughter of Debate,” the captive -Queen—was suddenly become as much of a thorn in the side of husband and -wife as in that of their sovereign. Wheresoever Mary was there stalked -complexity. This of itself, given the intricacies of her Stuart nature -and her extraordinary life and circumstances, was sufficient. But that -the Countess should have piled complexity upon complexity in such a way -as to wreck her own household reduces the observer to stupefaction. By -the second letter to Mauvissière it is seen that she was at Court. The -mere fact of her presence there seems to rouse Mary to a sort of fury at -her own helplessness. This letter is even more detailed, more excited -than the one just quoted:— - - - “Wingfield, October 18, 1584. - -“No reply having come from the Queen of England concerning the treaty -proposed between her, me, and my son, and not having received any news -from you for six weeks I cannot but doubt that this delay has been -purposed to give time and advantage to the Countess of Shrewsbury, in -order that she may play her game and trouble those on every side -possible, to escape the just punishment of her fault and treason, and to -give the lie to the Queen her sovereign, to the malicious reports, so -harmful to me. I would make, with all affection possible, the request -from myself, and in the name of Monsieur, my good brother, and the -noblemen, my relations in France, that you will give a satisfactory and -clear explanation to the Queen of England and those of her Council of -the false and scandalous rumours that everybody knows have been invented -and spread abroad by the Countess of my intercourse with the Count of -Shrewsbury. I beg you to proceed with all haste in a public examination -or at least before the Council, and in your presence particularly, of -her and her two sons, Charles and William Cavendish, whether they will -confirm or refute the rumours and language they have previously -maintained, that in the cause of reason and justice they may be punished -as an example, there being no subject so poor, vile, and abject in this -kingdom to whom common justice can be denied. Such satisfaction would be -granted to the meanest subject, how much more to one of my blood and -rank, and so closely related to the Queen. But here I am, bound hand and -foot, and, I might say, almost tongue-tied. I can do nothing for myself -to avenge this atrocious and wicked calumny. May it please you to -remember the definite promise made to me by the Queen, which I have -mentioned before in four or five letters to you, that she had always -hated the liberty and insolence, so largely encouraged in this corrupt -age in the slander of Kings and primates, and that she would do all in -her power to repress this evil. I will give her the names of the guilty -originators of this scandal, and in proof of her words she will be -obliged to execute a rigorous and exemplary punishment upon them. I name -to her now the Countess of Shrewsbury and her son Charles especially, to -convict them of this unhappy slander. If not, I ask but their own -servants and those of the Count usually in the house should be put on -their oath to God, and their allegiance to the Queen, and examined, for -I know too well that some of them otherwise would never have the chance -of giving witness, and the Countess would maintain her rumours were -truth. One of her servants has told me that she has caused this scandal -to be spread in divers parts of the kingdom, and that they have heard -her in the room of the Count reproaching him similarly. And to come to -particulars, for some months at Chatsworth there was staying one of the -grooms of Lord Talbot specially to enquire concerning this. He has -nothing to say of me under the name of the Lady of Bath. I cannot but -think the Countess has power to silence her friends, who would otherwise -be too convincing witnesses of the falsehood of their rumours against -the Queen, her sovereign, so that she will do wisely not to force me to -rouse the witnesses, for if I demand justice on them, and am refused, I -will produce, before all the princes of Christendom, by articles signed -by my own hand, an account of the honourable proceedings of this lady, -as much against the Queen as against me, against whom she had formerly -spread this rumour. I will give a declaration of the time, persons, and -all friends, so necessary that it will not be pleasing to those who are -constant in condemning. And in the wrongs that she has done them, if -there are any of them to support her and to countenance those injuries -which I have received from her, or if in such a case there is a question -of my honour, it will always be to me more than earthly life. It may be -after so long and painful captivity I am constrained and obliged to put -before the public anything which may offend them or do harm. In that it -is for them to remedy and obviate by giving me reparation and -satisfaction for scandals and impostures. God grant that at the end I -may find true what the Countess has formerly told me, that the more she -could show herself my enemy, and work against me, she would be so much -the more welcome and more favoured at Court. - - “MARIE R.”[69] - - -The scandalous rumours suggesting a liaison between Mary of Scotland and -Shrewsbury seem to have been on foot some two years previous to this -letter, and were naturally combined with the suggestion of his -connivance in her plans for escape and his vilification of his Queen. -There is a long, tedious, pitiful letter from the Earl on the subject -under the date of October 18th, 1582, addressed, of course, to Lord -Burghley. The “scandilation” is not mentioned as such, but the other -allegations are strictly denied. Shrewsbury reminds his friend that on -the last occasion on which he saw Elizabeth and “enjoyed the comfort of -her private speech” she did “most graciously promise that she would -never condemn” him without calling for his self-justification. He begs -for a hearing now. He adds: “Among the rest of my false accusations, -your Honour knoweth that I have been touched with some undutiful -respects touching the Queen of Scots; but I am very well able to prove -that she hath shewed herself an enemy unto me, and to my fortune; and -that I trust will sufficiently clear me.” The letter is dated from -Handsworth, the little manor which appears to have been the only place -in this and after years in which the harassed man could possess his soul -in quiet and dignity. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - THE COIL THICKENS - - -That last plaint of George Talbot was in 1582. Previous to this the -curious letters quoted from Gilbert Talbot give a pretty graphic notion -of the acute irritation between his parents. They still sometimes acted -in concert. In 1583 (February 7th) both of them wrote simultaneously to -Burghley to desire his good offices in appeasing the Queen anent the -marriage of the Countess’s nephew, John Wingfield, to the Countess of -Kent. By 1584 the affair seems to have developed into a very unequal -family feud of five to two. As in a game of “oranges and lemons” Bess -Shrewsbury, already backed by her sons Charles and William Cavendish, -seems to have tugged not only her daughter Mary over to her side, but -also Mary’s husband. He is no longer Gilbert the go-between, but the -declared champion of his stepmother against his own father and his -stepmother’s eldest son Henry Cavendish. Family affairs are certainly in -a shockingly ungodly condition. William Cavendish is trying to screw his -stepfather over a matter of £1800, and the quarrel between the Countess -and Earl is so serious that the matter has passed into the hands of the -Master of the Rolls and the Lord Chief Justice, who take opposite sides. -The Countess has named her husband as “traytor” at Court, and he is -resolved to go and exonerate himself. His secret malady is betrayed to -Gilbert by a family servant named Steele, whose confidences can only -help to complicate matters. He has long conversations with Queen Mary’s -secretary, Curle, and seems to have access to all her retinue and to -know the attitude of every member of the Earl’s household towards -Gilbert. The only redeeming feature is the steadfast loyalty of Henry -Cavendish—heir to a portion of the Rufford and Langeford estates—to his -stepfather. Gilbert adroitly urges his own poverty and his wife’s -“necessite,” but is sharply silenced. Shrewsbury is very jealous of his -heir’s long absence at the hated Chatsworth, but at the same time -promises to defray the fees of the physician attending Mary—the -redoubtable Mary Talbot. - -This lady is the true outcome of her mother. Bess Shrewsbury was -accustomed to speak of her many building enterprises as her “workes.” -One of her most pathetically characteristic “workes” was Mary Talbot. -Later on in regard to Arabella Stuart’s career history shows how the -mother’s intriguing match-making tactics repeated themselves in the -daughter. For the moment it is her pertinacity, her love of possessions, -her hot uncontrolled temper, and her vindictiveness which concern us. - -Again we must anticipate by some years and include here as explanatory -and pertinent an episode which displays the violence and bitterness of -Mary Talbot’s nature. - -Between the Stanhopes of Nottingham and the Cavendishes there was a -deadly feud in the course of which blood was shed on both sides. In the -height of this strife Mary Talbot (by that time Countess of Shrewsbury) -sent the following deadly message to Sir Thomas Stanhope of Shelford. It -was not written, but delivered by two messengers, and the message has -come down to posterity in this form, as quoted in Johnson’s _Extracts -from Norfolk Papers_:— - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, from the picture at Hardwick - Hall - By permission of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire_ - - MARY CAVENDISH, COUNTESS OF SHREWSBURY - - Page 252 -] - - -“My Lady hath commanded me to say this much to you. That though you be -more wretched, vile, and miserable than any creature living; and, for -your wickedness, become more ugly in shape than the vilest toad in the -world; and one to whom none of reputation would vouchsafe to send any -message; yet she hath thought good to send thus much to you—that she be -contented you should live (and doth noways wish your death) but to this -end—that all the plagues and miseries that may befall any man may light -upon such a caitiff as you are; and that you should live to have all -your friends forsake you; and without your great repentance, which she -looketh not for, because your life hath been so bad, you will be damned -perpetually in hell fire.” The chronicler goes on to say that the -heralds added many other opprobrious and hateful words, which could not -be remembered, because the bearer would deliver it but once, as he said -he was commanded, but said if he had failed in anything, it was in -speaking it more mildly and not in terms of such disdain as he was -commanded. - - -It was this free-tongued, easily infuriated nature with which the Earl -had to cope in addition to his wife’s excitability and financial -ambitions, his son’s cry of “Give, give!” the suspicions of his Queen, -the lies and slanders of his enemies, and the intrigues of his -captivating captive. The wonder is that he could be even so generous, -affectionate, and level-headed as the following letter shows; that he -could forgive Gilbert, and laugh with my Lord of Rutland, who seems to -have visited Shrewsbury solely to pour balm on his friend’s wounds and -put him in a happier frame of mind, so that at Gilbert’s coming the -difficulties of a business discussion about the disposal of Welbeck—at -which place the Countess eventually established her son Charles -Cavendish, and concerning which she appears to have had important -financial transactions with her husband—was made easy. Owing to the -guest’s _bonhomie_, father and son are placed on a footing which enables -them to discuss things composedly, and Gilbert is informed of the false -reports of his father’s attitude towards Mary Talbot. - - - _Gilbert and Mary Talbott to the Countess of Shrewsbury_ - (1583). - - -“My bounden duty, duty, etc.—On Friday at night my L. sent to me to be -with him the next morning early. I came to Worsop about 9 o’clock, and -found the two earls together, but saw them not till dinner was on the -table. After ordinary greeting at the board, my L. speaking of Welbeck, -my L. of Rutland said he was sure my L. would pay for it, and ‘so,’ -quoth he, ‘you promised me yesternight,’ which my L. denied; ‘but,’ said -my L., ‘your L. was exceeding earnest with me so to do’; whereat they -were both very merry; and he still was earnest with my L. therein, but -he laughed it off. After dinner my L. called me to him in his chamber, -and told me a long tale of the cause of his meeting with that Lord; the -effect in substance was to continue friendship with him; and recited -many reasons that he had to trust him better than any nobleman; and said -that I had like cause to do so, both in respect of kindred, and that he -loveth me exceeding well; and sware by God he was never more earnestly -dealt with than he had been by him since his coming, for me; both to be -good to me in present and hereafter; and bade me take knowledge thereof -and give him thanks, and that in any case I should go to Newark to him. -And before had ended all that it seemed he would have said, he was -called away by the other being ready to go down to horse. So when I came -out I briefly gave him thanks for what my L. had told me; and he wished -he were able to do me any pleasure, desired me to come to Newark, and he -would tell me more, and none living be better welcome; and so we parted. -Then I rode some part of my L. way with him. He told me that the cause -he would not have me carry my wife to London was, for that he thought -your La. would go up to London, and then would my wife join with you in -exclaiming against him, and so make him to judge the worse of me, with -much to that effect. I alleged the necessity of my wife’s estate; how -ill I could live here without any provisions; but he cut me off, saying -he looked hourly for leave to go up, and after he had been there -himself, I might carry her if I would, and if I did before, he could not -think I loved him; and for her health, he said physicians might be sent -for, though he bare the charges; and would not suffer me to speak a word -more thereof, but bade me now do it if I would. Then he told me that -Lewis being at Newark, Hercules Foliambe told him that he heard my L. -had commanded me to put away my wife; and called Lewis, and he affirmed -it, and so my L. willed me to charge Foliambe therewith and make him -bring out his author. Then he told me that the matters were hard between -your La. and him; that Sir W. M. and the Master of the Rolls were wholly -on your side, and would have set down an order clean against him; but -that the Lord Chief Justice would not thereto consent, but stuck to him -as friendly as ever man did. He would honour and love him for it whilst -he lived; and that the order was deferred till Thursday last; and that -this last week he had found out and sent up all the pay books written by -Ryc. Cooke, of all manner of conveyances whatsoever, whereby it appeared -that Knifton and Cooke dealt the most treacherously with him that ever -any men had done; but recited not wherein, saying that he hath not -Hardwick and the West country lands without impeachment of waste, as he -would be sworn his meaning was. Further that W. Cavendish he said was -not ashamed to demand £1800 for [it] and made such a matter of it, as -was never heard; whereof he spake so out of purpose, as it were in vain -to write it. Then commended H. Cavendish exceedingly for maintaining his -honour, which he said he should fare the better for; and told that -divers noble men had of late answered for him very stoutly, especially -the Earl of Cumberland. Then told that Bentall, hearing how evil he was -spoken of at London, and for that your La. had called him traitor, he -desired leave to go up, either to be cleared or condemned, and that he -hath written by him to my L. Treasurer and my L. of Leicester that he -might be thoroughly tried, and have as he had deserved. As for his -knowledge of him, he wrote he had found him the truest and most faithful -servant that he ever had. He said Bentall rather chose to go up of -himself than to be sent for; and that he had been twice examined before -my L. Treasurer and my L. of Leicester, and had sped well, and so would -do he hoped. These are all the special points that I can remember he -spoke of. I began many times to tell him my griefs, and to open my -estate, but he would not suffer me to speak, but said he loved me best -of all his children, and that I had never given him cause of offence but -in tarrying so long at Chatsworth; which thing he also would not suffer -me to answer, but said it was past, and he would not hear more thereof. -When I was parted with my L. I met Style[70] with the stuff. The secret -he told me of the estate of my L. body was that swelling which he said -he thought none but himself did know, but when I told him where it was, -he marvelled that I knew it. He told me that Bentall persuaded my L. -that he was able to do him such service above as he never had done him, -and to discover the secrets of all things, especially by his brother -that serves my L. of Leicester; but Steele said he verily thought he -should be laid up in prison. He said he talked with Curle all the day -before he went, and all that morning, but I could get out no particular -thing of him besides his continual familiarity with all the Scots. He -said there is not any about my L. but Stringer but seeketh my undoing. - -“I am in hope to meet Mr. Serjante Roods at Winkfield. Herein is -enclosed a note for your La. to read. The remainder of Rufford and -Langford is assuredly [rested] in my brother H. Cavendish, as the other -lands that are unrevocable are. - -“I desire to know whether your La. thinketh that her Majesty will be -offended with my going to Newark to that Earl or not, considering what -speeches she used to me of him. If it be not in that respect, I think it -is very necessary I go thither, seeing that he hath used so good offices -for me to my L. My L. said to one that my L. of Leicester was Bentall’s -great friend. God prosper your La. in all things. We most humbly beseech -your La. blessing to us all. - - “G. TALBOTT. MARY TALBOTT.” - - -It is patent which way the wind blows, and how the Earl is regarded by -his principal antagonists. There is open war; his words are repeated, -his moves watched, and he is simply become a fine grape to be squeezed -for their advantage. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - HARDWICK HALL, SHOWING ENTRANCE GATEWAY - - Page 258 -] - -Things were brewing to a head, and in 1584 Chatsworth, the beautiful, -the detested of the Earl, was literally besieged by him. It must be -recalled here that his wife had already divided her own two houses -amongst her two elder sons. On Henry, as eldest Cavendish she had -bestowed Chatsworth; on William, her best beloved, her own Hardwick. For -Charles, her youngest, as instanced, she had other plans, namely, -Welbeck. Now Henry had married the Earl’s daughter, Lady Grace. The -quarrel naturally concentrated itself on Chatsworth, which, through -Grace, was shared by the Talbot side of the family. The Earl refused to -be done out of certain rights in this property. His lady, irritated by -the fact that Henry was on the Earl’s side, bore down upon the house, -dismantled it, and sent the greater part of the contents to Hardwick, -while Charles and William Cavendish practically manned the empty -building. Up rode the Earl with his gentlemen and servants to demand -admittance, and was, according to his own statements,[71] resisted by -William “with halberd in hand and pistol under his girdle.” The whole -position was naturally rendered more and more painful by this -undignified occurrence, and all parties concerned were foolishly guilty -of wanton waste of a good summer’s day. Meanwhile the Countess was -practically without a suitable house, since she could now share none of -her husband’s lordly residences. Here follows a tragic and unforgettable -letter from the Earl, almost alone, as it were with his back against a -wall. He writes not to Burghley this time, but to Lord Leicester. -Ostensibly the letter is one of condolence. Leicester’s son by Lettice -Knollys died in babyhood in July of this year, at the time when the Earl -and his retinue hammered at the doors of Chatsworth. It was open to -Shrewsbury to requite his friend’s sanctimonious epistle, previously -quoted, on the death of Francis Talbot by just such another. The soldier -Earl, however, is of different stuff from the courtier. His heart cannot -dissemble, and the occasion becomes an excuse for bitter confidences, -elicited evidently by a letter from Leicester which informs him of the -blow and makes kindly allusion, possibly admonitory, to Gilbert Talbot, -who himself had lost an only son and heir. - - - “My good Lord, - -“For that I perceive your Lordship takes God’s handiwork thankfully, and -for the best, doubt not but God will increase you with many good -children, which I wish with all my heart. And where it pleases you to -put me in mind of Gilbert Talbot, as though I should remember his case -by my own, truly, my Lord, they greatly vary. For my son, I never -dissuaded him from loving his wife, though he hath said he must either -forsake me, or hate his wife, this he gives out, which is false and -untrue. This I think is his duty; that, seeing I have forbad him for -coming to my wicked and malicious wife, who hath set me at naught in his -own hearing, that contrary to my commandment, hath both gone and sent -unto her daily by his wife’s persuasion, yea and hath both written and -carried letters to no mean personages in my wife’s behalf. These ill -dealings would he have salved by indirect reports, for in my life did I -never seek their separation; for the best ways I have to content myself -is to think it is his wife’s wicked persuasion and her mother’s -together, for I think neither barrel better herring of them both. This -my misliking to them both argues not that I would have my son make so -hard a construction of me that I would have him hate his wife, though I -do detest her mother. But to be plain, he shall either leave his -indirect dealings with my wife, seeing I take her as my professed enemy, -or else indeed will I do that to him I would be loth, seeing I have -heretofore loved him so well; for he is the principal means and -countenance she has, as he uses the matter, which is unfit; yet will I -not be so unnatural in deeds as he reports in words, which is that I -should put from him the principal things belonging to the Earldom. He -hath been a costly child to me, which I think well bestowed if he come -here again in time. He takes the way to spoil himself with having his -wife at London; therefore if you love him, persuade him to come down -with his wife and settle himself in the country; for otherwise, during -his abode with his wife at London, I will take the £200 I give him -yearly besides alienating my good will from him, ... If he allege it be -her Majesty’s pleasure to command him to wait, let his wife come home, -as more fit it is for her. - -“The assurance of your Lordship’s faithful friendship towards me hath, -by so many years’ growth, taken so deep root as it cannot now fade nor -decay, neither any new friendship take my faithful goodwill away, as -time and occasion shall try; and so hoping your Lordship will be -satisfied without further doubt or scruple therein, I commend your -Lordship to the discretion of the Almighty.” - - -This letter is not signed by Shrewsbury, but simply endorsed: “The copy -of my letter of 8th Aug., 1584,” which fixes the date. - -That the dignified George Talbot should stoop to such a slang expression -as “neither barrel better herring” in regard to his once adored and -brilliant Countess shows the complete wreckage of all their joy, their -high comradeship, their mutual reverence. - -Into the same confessional, the ear of the astute Treasurer, Bess -Shrewsbury poured out her side, writing from Hardwick on August 2nd: her -husband was using her very hardly, he sought to take Chatsworth from -her, he had induced her son Henry to deal most unnaturally with her, -wherefore she hoped that Burghley would remonstrate, as his letters -would do more with the Earl than those of any other living person, etc. -etc. A little over a fortnight after, the Earl, who had already given -his version of the Chatsworth affair, placed details of the “insolent -behaviour” of William Cavendish before the Privy Council. The State -Papers show that the Council took prompt action here, but to their reply -informing the Earl of the committal of William to prison, and expressing -their opinion that it was not meet that a man of his mean quality should -use himself in a contemptuous sort against one of his Lordship’s station -and quality, they add a clause stating that the Queen desired that “he -should suffer the Cavendishes to enjoy their own lands unmolested.” - -To all this quarrel over possessions, which reads for all the world like -a prolonged act out of a new version of the ancient drama -_All-for-Money_, was added the distasteful business of the now -flourishing scandal about Queen Mary and the Earl. Doubtless his wife -and stepsons were ready to bite out their tongues by the time the -scandal they apparently fostered of his intimacy with Mary of Scots was -generally known. Though their nerves were less sensitive they could not -but see that the affair was passing beyond their control and that only -harm could ensue. The time was approaching when they must be publicly -called to account. Meanwhile lesser persons were already being -interrogated. The actual details of the slander are located in the -extract from a letter in diary[72] form written by the Recorder of -London, William Fletewood, to Lord Burghley:— - - -“Thursdaie,[73] the next daie after, we kept the generall sessions at -Westminster Hall for Middlesex. Surelie it was very great! We satt the -whole daie and the next after also at Fynsburie. At this sessions one -Cople and one Baldwen my Lord of Shrewsburie’s gent. required me that -they might be suffered to indict one Walmesley of Islyngton an -Inn-holder for scandilation of my Lord their master. They shewed me two -papers. The first was under the clerk of the council’s hand of my Lord’s -purgation, in the which your good Lordship’s speeches are specially set -downn. The second paper was the examinations of divers witnesses taken -by Mr. Harris; the effect of all which was that Walmesley should tell -his guests openlie at the table that the Erle of Shrowsbury had gotten -the Scottish Quene with child, and that he knew where the child was -christened, and it was alleged that he should further adde that my Lord -should never go home agayne, with lyke wordes, etc. An indictement was -then drawne by the clerk of the peace the which I thought not good to -have published, or[74] that the evidence should be given openlie, and -therefore I caused the jurie to go to a chamber, where I was, and heard -the evidence given, amongst whom one Merideth Hammer, a doctor of -divinitie and Vicar of Islyngton was a witnes, who had dealt as lewdlie -towards my Lord in speeches as did the other, viz. Walmeslye. This -doctor regardeth not an oathe. Surelie he is a very bad man: but in the -end the indictement was indorsed Billa Vera.” - - -Of course this true bill was satisfactory in one sense. At the same time -mud sticks, and the publicity of such a case always helps to arouse -wider interest in the possible rumours. Both Queen Mary and the Earl -were rampant and eager for a proper official enquiry. She even sent a -message to Elizabeth on the subject when in committee with an emissary -of the Queen in regard to other matters. This talk was duly noted down -and is included among the Marian MSS.:— - - -“She thanked her Majesty for the promise to punish the authors of the -slanders against her; Toplif [Topcliff] was one, and Charles Candish -another; the Countess of Shrewsbury did not bear her that goodwill which -the Queen supposed, ‘who with her divers times laughed at such reports, -and now did accuse her. It touched his Lordship as well as her, -wherefore she trusted as a nobleman he would regard his house.’ She -wished this to be signified to the Lord Treasurer, Leicester, and -Walsingham, desiring their favour in this suit.” - - -It is interesting and piquant to find that Mary’s suspicions should -alight upon that egregious Papist-baiter Topcliffe, but this pompous -gentleman does not appear to have been successfully impugned in this -case. Otherwise Mary eventually had her will. The Earl at last succeeded -in obtaining permission to go to Court to clear himself, and to -relinquish finally his heavy duty. Indeed, he was soon formally -delivered from his charge, but the change of officers did not take place -immediately. Some time elapsed before formalities and details were -carried through, and he and his prisoner paid in July, 1584, their last -visit in company to Buxton. There Mary wrote her famous Latin couplet -with a diamond on a window-pane:— - - Buxtona quae calidae celebraris nomine Lymphae, - Forte mihi post hac non adennda, Vale. - -The permission for which the Earl longed came in August, and his -successor was Sir Ralph Sadler, who has previously figured in this -record. It was not an easy transfer. The poor Earl’s departure was -complicated by the business of transferring his prisoner to Wingfield -Manor from Sheffield. There were delay and trouble, so that the -cavalcade did not leave till early in September, and it was not till the -7th of that month, after fifteen years of hard service, that he was a -free man. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - “FACE TO FACE” - - -A free man, a free agent! But at what a price was Shrewsbury free! - -His honour was undermined by his own family, his fortunes impaired by -his Queen’s penuriousness, his prime was past, his best given in return -for apparently naught. Even the gratitude of his captive—and she never -seems to have been regardless of such leniency as he was permitted to -show her—had it been emphatically expressed, would have been no real -reward to him, for it would only have placed him under suspicion. He had -but one testimonial to his credit—the fact that in the midst of Mary’s -dangers and terrors she felt that she was safer in his keeping “than in -that of any other.” His farewell to her cannot have been anything but a -strained and painful matter, with the hateful barrier of “scandilation” -to mar the dignity and courtesy of it on both sides. She wished him to -convey her letters to Elizabeth. He declined, and her new gaoler sent -them with his official correspondence. Thus parted, after the strange -intimacy of fifteen years, Mary of Scotland and George Talbot. When they -met again it was as principal actors in the “tragedy of Fotheringay” in -the autumn of 1586. - -The Earl travelled to London with his retinue of gentlemen and grooms—a -business of four to five days. Face to face he and his sovereign stood -at last and the second formal step in the scandal affair was taken. - -He was “very graciously used by her Majesty,” who showed herself “very -desirous to comprehend the controversies between him and the lady, his -wife.” Walsingham, commenting on this, writes that he feared this -reconciliation would “not be performed over easily.” Elizabeth kept her -promise and set to work at once. The Lords of the Council were summoned -to testify to his loyalty, uprightness, and honour, and he was called to -face them and receive their magnificent and pompous declaration, “a -memorable testimonial by Queen Elizabeth and the Lords of the Council as -to the discharge of his duty faithfully, and trust in the custody of the -Queen of Scots.” It is not necessary to quote the whole document here. -The actual domestic scandal is only touched very vaguely in it thus:— - - -“And if in some trifles, and private matters of small moment, not -appertaining to the Queen’s Majesty, his Lordship thought that his -honour and reputation had been touched by the evil reports of any, he -was required to think that the same was common to them and others as -well as to himself in this world, howbeit, if any person could be -particularly charged by his Lordship, it was reason that he should be -called to answer the same; and, therefore, his Lordship was desired to -assure himself of this their Lordships’ good and honourable opinion -concerning his Lordship, and so to sit down as a person that was very -meet for the company, then to serve her Majesty and the realm; and so, -therewith, he took his place in Council according to his degree and -office.” - - -Thus did their Lordships pour oil on the bruises of their battered -colleague. But he needed more than words. The pain was too deep to be -healed by that bland reminder of the general prevalence of false -witnesses in the world. The phrase “if any person could be particularly -charged ... it was reason that he should be called to answer the same” -is far more curative. Two such persons had been dealt with. But his lady -was not to escape. Beale, his good friend, took a serious view of the -situation. “I have dealt with the Earl,” he wrote to Walsingham, -“touching his son, and find him well affected towards him save that he -says he is ruled by his wife, who is directed by her mother. I think his -hatred for her will hardly be appeased, as he thinks the slanders and -other information made to her Majesty have proceeded from her.” - -Both Mary and Shrewsbury were to have their full satisfaction. Mary was -from the first most explicit, and, not content with her excited -outpourings to the French Ambassador, herself wrote to Elizabeth at this -date from Wingfield Manor after Shrewsbury and she had parted. She -alludes in this letter to Elizabeth’s “honourable promise.” She declares -that she will never desist from her demands for satisfaction until her -reputation is formally cleared in regard to the Countess’s slanders. It -is a final challenge which Elizabeth could not in decency resist. - -In December of this year Bess Shrewsbury with William and Charles were -called to their account before the Lords of the Council. Full -satisfaction was received—of a kind. There could be nothing very -triumphant about it from Mary’s point of view. There was really none of -that magnificent abasement of her trio of enemies which she painted -subsequently to a correspondent in one of her letters after her removal -to Chartly. This is her version:— - - -“The Countess of Shrewsbury (I thank God) hath been tried and found to -her shame, in her attempt against me, the same woman indeed that many -have had opinion that she was, and at the request of my secretary Nau, -he being at the Queen of England’s Court in the month of December, ’84, -the said lady upon her knees, in presence of the Queen of England and -some principals of her Council, denied to her the shameful bruits by -herself spread abroad against me.”[75] - - -As a matter of fact, the accused three unanimously asserted total -ignorance of the entire scandal and its possible sources alike, and -their declaration made before the Privy Council was solemnly recorded, -and is included in the mass of State documents, while an exact copy of -it is among the Talbot papers. It is not a very interesting or savoury -little document, but highly important to George Talbot and his heirs as -a second certificate of merit. It covers exactly the same ground as the -extract quoted from Fletewood’s “dyarium.” At its conclusion, after -testifying boldly to the dignity and honour of Mary, the mother and sons -offer to uphold the truth of their wholesale disclaimer against any -person whomsoever, whenever the occasion should arise. Thus, though -posterity is afforded that vision of their abject position “on their -knees in the royal presence” as stated by Mary, the attitude, contrasted -with their denial, is rather that of reverent dignity than of sheer -abasement. - -Thus was the honour of the Talbots saved, but at such cost and after -such a pitiful process of the public washing of family linen that it -does very little real credit to the parties concerned. The poor Earl -could only point to his Queen’s testimonial and console himself by -thinking on his family doggerel:— - - The Talbot true that is, - And still hath so remaynde, - Lost never noblenesse - By princke of spot distaynde: - On such a fixed fayth - This trustie Talbot stayth. - -For there is no real honour left to a house divided against itself. The -quarrel of man and wife had become the property of the world. Matters -must be patched up somehow with the aid of friends and Court officials. -Everything, to the eye, was now put on a highly respectable basis. The -bland disclaimer by the Cavendishes paved the way at any rate for a more -decent family relationship. - -For the fourth time in her life Bess Hardwick had faced and surmounted a -great danger. As Lady St. Loe she had laid herself in some way open to -back-biters, had triumphantly quashed them, and had escaped being deeply -involved in the affair of Lady Catherine Grey; as Lady Shrewsbury she -had braved the wrath of Elizabeth over the Lennox marriage, and now -triumphed over Mary and the Earl. Upon this last occasion she emerged -with a slate at least superficially clean. - -Superficially. The thing extorts your admiration after the reading of -Mary’s detailed accusations. But there is yet one more letter which Mary -planned to send hurtling towards the Court. It is a bomb more deadly -than any of the rest, and had it found its mark even the indomitable -Lady Shrewsbury might have been annihilated—would certainly have been -hopelessly discountenanced. It is the production known to all students -of this historical period as “The Scandal Letter,” here translated with -the exception of passages which are best in the original French. Again, -full allowance must be made here for the overwrought condition of the -writer. This letter tallies with the spirit of the letters on the same -subject already seen. Moreover, it is on all sides adjudged by experts -to be a genuine document in Mary’s own hand. This epistle, which in -itself formed a safety-valve for the tumult of the writer’s brain, -either was not despatched and was afterwards found among her papers, or -may have been intercepted in full flight—possibly by Burghley, for it -rests to this day among the Hatfield MSS. Events show that it can never -have reached Elizabeth. The publication of such pernicious matter could -not have done any good or have diverted in any way Elizabeth’s -disapproval from her prisoner. Nor could it have altered Mary’s fate. If -there be, as one cannot but think, a certain basis of truth in it—the -Countess had a lively tongue, as the world knows—the road by which this -lady travelled between 1578 and 1584 must have literally overhung a -ghastly social precipice. - - - “Madame,[76] - -“In accordance with what I promised you and have ever since desired, I -must—though with regret that such matters should be called in question, -still without passion and from motives of true sincerity, as I call God -to witness—declare to you that what the Countess of Shrewsbury has said -of you to me is as nearly as possible as follows. I assure you I treated -the greater part of her statements, while rebuking the said lady for -thinking and speaking so licentiously of you, as matters in which I had -no belief, either then or now, knowing the nature of the Countess and -the spirit which animated her against you. - -“Premièrement, qu-un, auquel elle disoit que vous aviez faict promesse -de mariage devant une dame de votre chambre, avait couché infinies foys -avvesques vous, avecque toute la licence et privaulté qui se peut user -entre mari et femme; mais qu’indubitablement vous n’estiez pas comme les -aultres femmes, et pour ce respect c’estoit follie a tous ceulz -qu-affectoient vostre mariage avec M. le duc d’Anjou, d’aultant qu’il ne -se pourrait accomplir, et que vous ne vouldriez jamais perdre la liberté -de vous fayre fayre l’amour et avoir vostre plésir tousjours avecques -nouveaulx amoureulx, regrettant, ce disoit elle, que vous ne vous -contentiez de maister Haton et un aultre de ce royaulme: mays que, pour -l’honneur du pays, il lui fashoit le plus que vous aviez non seulement -engagé vostre honneur avecques un étranger nommé Simier, l’alant trouver -la nuit dans la chambre d’une dame, que la dicte comtesse blamoit fort a -ceste occasion là, où vous le baisiez et usiez avec lui de diverses -privautez deshonestes; mays aussi lui revelliez les segrets du royaulme, -trahisant vos propres conseillers avex luy. Que vous vous esties -desportée de la mesme dissolution avvec le Duc son maystre, qui vous -avoit esté trouver une nuit à la porte de vostre chambre, où vous -l’aviez rencontré avvec vostre seulle chemise et manteau de nuit, et que -par après vous l’aviez laissé entrer, et qu’il demeura avecques vous -près de troys heures. - -“As for the aforenamed Hatton [it was said] that you literally pursued -him, displaying your love for him so publicly that he was obliged to -withdraw, that you gave Killigrew[77] a box on the ear because he did -not bring back Hatton when sent in pursuit, the latter having left your -presence in anger because of insulting remarks you had made about some -gold buttons on his coat. [The Countess said] that she had worked to -achieve the marriage of the said Hatton with the late Countess of -Lennox, her daughter, but that he would not listen to the proposal for -fear of you. Again, that even the Earl of Oxford durst not live with his -wife lest he should lose the advantages which he hoped to receive for -making love to you, that you were lavish towards all such persons and to -all who were engaged in similar intrigues; for example, that you gave a -person of the Bedchamber, named George, a pension of £300 for bringing -you the news of the return of Hatton; that towards all other persons you -were very thankless and stingy, and that there were but three or four in -your kingdom whom you had ever benefited. The Countess, in fits of -laughter, advised me to place my son among the ranks of your lovers as a -thing which would do me good service and would entirely disable the -Duke, whose affair, if allowed to continue, would be very prejudicial to -me. And when I replied that such an act would be interpreted as sheer -mockery, she answered that you were so vain, and had such a good opinion -of your beauty—as if you were a sort of goddess from heaven—that she -wagered she could easily make you take the matter seriously and would -put my son in the way of carrying it through. - -“[She said] that you were so fond of exaggerated adulation, such as the -assurance that no one dared to look full into your face, since it shone -like the sun, that she and other ladies at Court were obliged to employ -similar forms of flattery; that on her last appearance before you she -and the late Countess of Lennox scarcely ventured to interchange glances -for fear of bursting into laughter over the way in which they were -openly mocking you. She begged me on her return to scold her daughter -because she could not persuade her to do likewise; and as for your -daughter Talbot she was assured that she would never fail to sneer at -you. The said Lady Talbot, immediately upon her return, after she had -made her obeisance to you and taken the oath as one of your servants, -related it to me as a mere empty pretence, and begged me to receive a -similar act of homage, one which she felt, however, more deeply and -rendered absolutely to me. This for a long time I refused, but in the -end, disarmed by her tears, I let her yield it to me, she declaring that -she would not for worlds be in personal attendance upon you, for fear -lest if you were angry you would treat her as you did her Cousin Skedmur -(whose finger you broke, pretending to those at Court that it was caused -by the fall of a chandelier), or as you did another, who while waiting -on you at table received a great cut on the hand from a knife from you. -In a word, from these latter details and the rumours of common gossip -you can see that you are made game of and mimicked by your ladies as if -they were at a play, and even by my women also, though, when I perceived -it, I swear to you that I forbade my women to have anything to do with -the matter. - -“In addition the said Countess once informed me that you wanted to -induce Rolson[78] to make love to me and attempt to dishonour me, either -literally or by scandalous rumours, and that he had instructions to this -effect from your own lips; that Ruxby came here about eight years ago to -make an attempt on my life after being received by you personally, and -that you told him to do all that Walsingham should command and direct. - -“That when the Countess was promoting the marriage of her son Charles -with one of Lord Paget’s nieces, while you on the other hand wanted to -secure her by the exercise of your unlimited and absolute prerogative -for a member of the Knollys family, she had raised an outcry against you -and declared it was pure tyranny that you should want to carry off all -the heiresses of the country according to your own fancy, and that you -had disgracefully abused the said Paget, but that in the end the -nobility of the kingdom would not stand it, even if you appealed to -other than those whom she knew well. - -“Il y a environ quatre ou sinq ans que, vous estant malade et moy aussy -au mesme temps, elle me dit que vostre mal provenoit de la closture une -fistulle que vous aviez dans une jambe: et que son doubte, venant à -perdre vos moys, vous mourriez bientost. - -“In this she rejoiced on the strength of a vain notion she has long -cherished, based on the predictions of one named John Lenton, and upon -an old book which foretold your death by violence and the accession of -another queen, whom she interpreted to be me. She merely regretted that -according to this book it was predicted that the queen who was to -succeed you would only reign three years and would die, like you, a -violent death. All this was actually represented in a picture in the -book, the contents of the last page of which she would never disclose to -me. - -“She knows that I always looked upon all this as pure nonsense, but she -did her utmost to ingratiate herself with me and even to ensure the -marriage of my son with my niece Arbella. - -“In conclusion I once more swear to you on my faith and honour that all -this is perfectly true, and that where your honour is concerned it was -never my intention to wrong you by revealing it, and that it should -never be known through me, who hold it all to be very false. If I may -have an hour’s speech with you I will give more particulars of the -names, times, places, and other circumstances to prove to you the truth -of this and other things, which I reserve until fully assured of your -friendship. This I desire more than ever. Further, if I can this time -secure it you will find no relative, friend, nor even subject more loyal -and affectionate than myself. For God’s sake, believe the assurance of -one who will and can serve you. - -“From my bed, forcing my arm and my sufferings to satisfy and obey you. - - “MARIE R.” - - -This letter, of course, is concentrated venom. Mary could embroider with -her pen as well as with her clever needle. She could entwine and order -her imaginings with magnificent effect. She had heaps of fantasy and -romance and could employ them more than puckishly. The document is a -_tour de force_ of craft and power. Its double aim is unerring. With -this one poisoned shaft the writer seeks to destroy the security of the -two Elizabeths—so similar in their autocratic natures, their vitality -and joy in intrigue. A fiendish delight lurks behind every suggestion -aimed at the person and amours of Elizabeth. Even these, taking into -account the ghastly suspense of her imprisonment and the wreckage of her -mental balance, might be forgiven to Mary. But the statement suggesting -Elizabeth’s betrayal of her State secrets to a mere envoy like the -Frenchman Simier, while admitting him to the grossest intimacy, is too -wickedly sane in its vindictiveness to be forgivable. In her most -impulsive, most overwrought moments Lady Shrewsbury would never have -dared to suggest a thing so base or so impossible. The letter condemns -itself throughout, and undermines the truth of many of the previous wild -complaints by Mary of the Countess’s words and deeds. Naturally, every -breath of scandal attaching to the Queen’s intercourse with the -innumerable persons of the opposite sex with whom her position brought -her into contact was treasured and retailed in all directions, and -exaggerated versions of every incident would, of course, be transmitted -to Mary. To achieve such a letter she had only to collect the titbits, -put them into the mouth of one she hated, profess to expose all the -rottenness of Elizabeth’s so-called friends, and serve up the whole -gallimaufry with a crowning _bonne bouche_ in the assertion of her own -innocence, truth, and loyalty. The Arch-Tempter guided her pen in this -hour, and that last plea of weakness and despair, “de mon lit, forçant -mon bras et mes douleurs pour vous satis fayre et obéir,” is scarcely -convincing. The devil was assuredly in it, and she must have saved up -all her energy for such a production. Don Bernardino de Mendoza, when -alluding in a letter of 1585 to the release of Shrewsbury from his task -and his retirement to his estates, declared that he thanked the Queen -for delivering him from two devils, the Scottish Queen and his wife:— - - -“El conde de Shreubury ha partido para ir en Darbissier siendo -lugartheniente de dos condados de Darbi y Stafford. Besso los manos a la -Regna de Inglaterra, diziendole, hazello por havelle librado de dos -diablos, que heran la Regna de Scozia y su muger.” - - -This is probably a partial exaggeration. Of course Elizabeth could not -free him from his wife. It was her pleasurable business to bring them -together again. A lengthy matter and badly begun! - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - HAMMER AND TONGS - - -There is no other title possible for the condition of things with which -this chapter deals. That public vindication of the Earl, it will be -remembered, was in 1584, coupled with his wife’s formal disclaimer of -the scandal circulated about him. Still there is nothing to heal the -estrangement, and the Earl, hearing disturbing reports, writes to Lord -Burghley from his country seclusion in the autumn of the following year, -1585:— - - - “My noble good Lord, - -“Since my coming into the country, my wife and her children have not -ceased to inform her Majesty, most slanderously of me, that I have -broken her Highness’s order; and at length they have obtained her -gracious letters, and Mr. Secretary’s to me, the which I have answered, -and sent up my servant Christopher Copley with them; praying your -Lordship that he may, with your favour, attend on you, and acquaint you -thoroughly from time to time with my causes, and that it would please -you to further him with your advice and continuance of your good favour. -My Lord, she makes all means she can to be with me, and her children -have her living, whereunto I will never agree, for if I have the one, I -will have the other, which was thought reasonable by the Lord -Chancellor, and the Lord of Leicester; but by her letters she desires to -come to me herself, but speaks no word of her living.[79] I have been -much troubled with her, and almost never quiet to satisfy her greedy -appetite for money, to pay for her purchases to set up her children; -besides the danger I have lived in, to be compassed daily with those -that most maliciously hated me, that if I were out of the way, presently -they might be in my place. It were better we lived as we do, for in -truth, I cannot away with her children, but have them in jealousy; for -till Francis Talbot’s death, she and her children sought my favour, but -since those times they have sought for themselves and never for me. -Thus, with my hearty commendations, I commit your good Lordship to the -tuition of the Almighty. - -“Sheffield, this twenty-third of October, 1585. - - “Your Lordship’s most faithful friend, - “G. SHREWSBURY.” - - - “My noble good Lord, - -“Finding you so honest and constant a friend to me, I have been willing, -and yet doubtful to trouble you with my gouty fist, unless I had matters -of some importance, knowing your Lordship so troubled with her Majesty’s -affairs; but now, perceiving what untrue surmises have and are daily -invented by my wife and her children of me, and I think will be during -their lives, I am therefore to request your Lordship thus much; if they -shall exclaim of me from time to time without cause as they do, -considering how manifestly they have disproved in all their accounts, -that they may make trial of their complaints against me before they are -heard; and so shall her Majesty and her Council be less troubled with -these untrue surmises, and by the Grace of God, my doings and dealings -have and shall be such as I wish, my wife and her imps, who I know to be -mortal enemies, might daily see into my doings which I took for no less -but they will do their best. So, wishing your Lordship health as my own, -I take my leave. - -“Sheffield, this ninth of November, 1585. - -“Your Lordship’s most faithful ever assured friend, - - “G. SHREWSBURY.” - - -The word “imp” in Elizabethan times really only implied “offshoot” and -“offspring” and was used also in an agricultural sense. But the -application of it here is maliciously grotesque to the modern sense. The -word strikes one oddly also in the epitaph of the son of Leicester, the -baby Lord Denbigh, described on his tomb as “this noble imp.” - -On November 9th from Sheffield Castle Shrewsbury reopens his formal -campaign, and the real tussle in London begins. Lord Leicester, his good -friend, is no longer on the spot, owing to his absence in the -Netherlands. In the long letter to this Lord, quoted hereafter, though -belonging to a date slightly previous, it will be seen that mention is -made of the Queen’s preliminary arbitration in the quarrel. The main -points showing the fluctuations of this strife are set forth in the -State documents, and the whole of Vol. CCVII is devoted to them, showing -that the years 1586–7 are given up to a regular formal ballyragging on -both sides. On the 31st of January, 1586, the Earl is found appealing to -Walsingham, requiring that his wife should be ordered to make public -retractation of her slanderous speeches about him. (This evidently -refers to fresh backbiting, for as regards the great scandal already -named matters had been thrashed out long since.) He adds that he must -bend his mind to trouble though his years do otherwise move him; -meanwhile he has brought a suit against Charles Cavendish and Henry -Beresford, accusing them of the same slander. The Queen intervenes and -requests him to stay the suits. Shrewsbury, however, persists on the -score of the statute “De scandalis magnatum.”[80] The Cavendishes on -their side pleaded for the abandonment of the two suits just named and -for the impartial examination of witnesses. Evidence is next included by -Shrewsbury’s servants of the prejudicial statements of Beresford, while -the Cavendishes employed a servant of the Countess to attest the great -partiality with which the examination of Beresford was conducted, to the -disadvantage of the Countess’ case. Upon this the Queen sent to Sir -Charles Cavendish for details of the exact state of affairs between his -mother and stepfather. These he submitted to Walsingham in March. On May -the 12th the Queen wrote to the Earl expressing her earnest desire that -all controversies between him and his lady and her younger sons should -cease, and by her mediation be brought to some good end and accord. She -reminded him that his years required repose, especially of the mind, and -stated that she enclosed an order for the settlement of the dispute, the -result of her conference with the Lord Chancellor, the Earl of -Leicester, and the Treasurer and Chief Secretary of State. - -Lady Shrewsbury meanwhile objected strongly to all the Earl’s -proceedings, accused him of displacing certain of her tenants, and -assured the Queen that he refused to restrain the slander suits. This is -a fragment of her many complaints, and is endorsed:— - - - “Objections used by the Countess to the Earl of Shrewsbury’s answers, - who has not obeyed the Queen’s last letter. - -“To all these answers drawn by my Lord’s learned counsel, as may appear, -who never want words to answer whatsoever:— - -“I allege that for her Majesty’s order I must appeal to her own gracious -remembrance, which particularly was expressed by her last letter to my -Lord, though not obeyed. And (I) do avow on my whole credit with her -Majesty for ever that the things he hath entered to is worth nine -hundred pounds a year, and that he hath repaid but eight and fifty pound -of near two thousand pounds, which in that (case?) would have been to my -sons and me. That he displaceth sundry tenants, and as myself allegeth -meaneth to continue the suits. - -“In all these things I most humbly beseech speedy redress if they be -true, and discredit and her Majesty’s disfavour if they be found untrue. - -“May, 1586.” - - -On June 15th Shrewsbury, writing to Walsingham, begged him to favour his -suit against the Countess, and asked that the Queen should banish her -from Court, adding that he was ashamed to think of his choice of such a -creature, and piteously entreated Walsingham to persuade his son Gilbert -Talbot to leave “that wicked woman’s company.” - -The action went through against Beresford, for the next item in the -State record is a note upon the York Assizes in June. At the same time -the Countess petitioned the Council denying the charges of the Earl that -she had ever maintained her servant Beresford against him. Next follows -an important note by Charles Cavendish on the force and effect of the -Queen’s order which was intended to produce a united reconciliation and -cohabitation. - -The Earl was by this time slowly coming to terms, but he required that -Henry Cavendish should be reinstated in Chatsworth and assured of -certain lands, while his debts, it was stipulated, were to be paid by -the Countess. The Countess and her two sons, on the other hand, stated -that they had been much out of pocket for three years by the Earl’s -aggressive proceedings, and begged for redress. - -Into this hotchpotch are flung notes of the yearly allowances which the -Earl gave his Countess when they were together, of the amount of rent -paid by certain tenants, and all other disputes about the jointures of -the Countess, leases, houses, lands, and other property settled upon -various members of the family by father and mother. Not a single scrap -of personal or real estate seems to have been forgotten. The unhappy -couple tussled especially hard over their plate. In the Hatfield MSS. -catalogue the inquisitive will find a full list of the articles. They -include “a podinger” (of which the dish seems to be in my Lady’s hands, -while her Lord retains the lid), a “great silver salt having many little -ones within it to be drawn out,” one “George,” enamelled white and set -with diamonds, costing £38, “a cup of assay,” gilt “talbots,” ewers, -plates, standing-pots, bowls, candlesticks, trenchers, “parcel gilt and -double gilt.” Then there was the same pull-devil pull-baker business -over household linen, mattresses, and hangings—those hangings which were -always such a cause of bother to the couple all through their fifteen -years of menage in connection with their troublesome prisoner-guest. The -demands of the Earl on his part infuriate his wife, and there is a -scornful and sarcastic entry in the Hatfield MSS., endorsed by Burghley, -to the effect that “the parcels above demanded by the Earl are things of -small value and mere trifles for so great and rich a nobleman to bestow -on his wife in nineteen years.” The Countess then reminds him of her -share in the way of gifts: “the Earl hath received of her at several -times, pots, flagons, dishes, porringers, warming-pans, boiling-pot, a -charger or voider of silver, with many other things she now remembereth -not. Besides, better than £1000 of linen consumed by him, being carried -to sundry of his houses to serve his Lordship’s turn. And with his often -being at Chatsworth with his charge and most of his stuff there -spoiled.” - -In addition, she quotes an annual contribution of 30 to 40 mattresses, -20 quilts, etc. etc. - -All these absurd and pitiful obstacles made the Queen’s order for -cohabitation very distasteful, and in July the Earl lashed out in an -important and emphatic letter to Court. His wife had of her own will -left him, and he did not see why he should receive her under his roof -now simply because she offered to come. “It appeareth,” goes on the -statement, “by her words and deeds she doth deadly hate him, and hath -called him knave, fool, and beast to his face, and hath mocked and mowed -at him.” Here follow two letters from the contending parties. Her -Ladyship had written to my Lord on August 4th, 1586, to which he sends -the long reply quoted. She again writes on August 11th. - -_Earl of Shrewsbury to his Countess._ - - -“Wife, in the three first lines of your last letter dated Thursday, 4 -August, 1586, you hold yourself importunate for demanding my plate and -other things, part whereof, in the same letter you confess, which at -your being with me you desired to have, and the residue of the plate and -hangings you pass over in silence, for which I take light occasion to be -displeased with you by writing (as you say) and demand this question of -me—What new offence is committed since her Majesty reconciled us? To the -first part of your letter I answer that there is no creature more happy -and more fortunate than you have been for when you were defamed and to -the world a byword, when you were St. Loo’s widow, I covered those -imperfections (by my intermarriage) with you and brought you to all the -honour you have, and to the most of that wealth you now enjoy. -Therefore, you have cause to think yourself happier than others, for I -know not what she is within this realm that may compare with you either -in living or goods; and yet you cannot be contented. The reconciliation -that her Majesty moved betwixt us was—that I should take a probation of -your good behaviour toward me for a year, and send you to Wingfield upon -my charges, to which I yielded (being much pressed by her Highness) with -these conditions: that I should not bed nor board with you; those -servants that were now about you, I would put from you and put others to -you; your children, nor Gilbert Talbot, nor his wife should come at you -whilst you were with me; your living I would have, and my goods (which -you and William Cavendish had taken) I would have restored. Yet you -still pressed her Majesty further, that you might come to me at my house -to Chelsea, which I granted, and at your coming I told you that you were -welcome upon the Queen’s commandment, but though you were cleared in her -Majesty’s sight for all offences, yet I had not cleared you, nor could -trust you till you did confess that you had offended me. Nor can I be -contented to accept of you, if you do not this in writing and upon your -knees and before such as her Majesty shall appoint. It was promised that -I should find you obedient unto me in all points. I thought it unfit -that there should be suits betwixt your children and me, if I should -accept of you, which made me to try you, and demand my plate of you, -etc. What greater disobedience could you shew unto me than deny me that -which is my own? You will hardly suffer me to be master of any of yours, -when you cannot be pleased to restore me mine own. Is it fit that you -should gage my plate and mine arms upon it? Can you do me greater -dishonour? You say that, if your estate were able, you would not stand -with me upon such toys. You never esteemed how largely you cut quarters -out of my cloth; but you have carried always this mind towards me, that, -if you once got anything of me, you cannot be contented to restore it -again. As (if you remember) you borrowed £1000 of me, etc., and gave me -your bill for it; I was not ignorant that I could not recover any money -by it, but it is a witness that you had the money and yet you never paid -it me again. As touching her Majesty’s order for your living, she -pronounced the same at Greenwich, and ordered me £500 a year and divers -other things which they thought fit, and we assented to be set down in -the draft of the books, as may appear. And as touching this, that if I -did at any time receive you and cohabit with you, the Lords thought it -reasonable—and you assented to it—that I should have your living during -the time of our cohabitation, and hereupon I refer myself to their -opinions. Marry, this difference there was, that if you disliked to -cohabit and dwell with me, then your sons to have your living, upon a -signification to be made, the form whereof could not be agreed upon, as -may appear. Your children’s names were used only for this cause, because -you were not capable yourself, but they were thought meetest to deal for -you, till I liked to take you to me. And I think their commission -extended to it, or else you would not have laboured their great pains -which they took in it, and they would have been glad then that I should -have taken you and your living also, which your children desired not, if -I could have agreed to it. I am sorry to spend all these words with you, -but assure yourself this shall be the last time that I will write much -to you in the matter or trouble myself; and likewise, if you intend to -come to me, advise yourself in these points before remembered, that I -will have you to confess that you have offended me, and are heartily -sorry for it, in writing, and upon your knees (without either if or -and). Your living you shall bring with you to maintain you with, and to -pay such debts as is expressed in the consideration of the deed. For -neither by the said deed, nor yet by her Majesty’s order, it was meant -that your sons should have your living, which appertaineth to me, being -my enemies, and have sought my defamation and destruction of my house, -and I to have you without that which the laws giveth me. My goods you -shall restore me before we come together. And, if you cannot be content -to do this I protest before God, I will never have you come upon me, -whatever shall [happen]. I could allege many causes why you have thus -disobediently behaved yourself against me. One chief cause was when I -had made you my sole executrix you persuaded me to make a lease in trust -to two of your friends for threescore years, minding thereby to have the -benefit thereof by the executorship. You caused me in my extremity of -sickness to pass my lands by deed enrolled—to your friends—in bargain -and sale, and the indenture which did lease the houses was not enrolled, -so that if I had then died, the same might have been embezzled, and so -my posterity for that land in the case of St. Loo. But, when I perceived -in what danger I stood, I put you out of my will, and have since started -to remedy those my great imperfections that I was not able to benefit my -children nor recompense my servants. At length it came to your ear, -though there were not many that knew it, and then you began to play your -part, and hath used me ever since in such despiteful sort as I was not -able to bear or abide it: and this is one of the causes that you deal -with me in this wise as you do, and not such causes as you allege to her -Majesty of my dislike of you. All offences done by you are esteemed -nothing as was the offence of Henry Beresford, that was found guilty of -such slanderous speeches that he had spoken of me, that, if they had -been true, as they be most false, had overthrown me and my house. Also, -in regard to your confederacy with him and his son, I cannot but -remember that the young fellow should swear he never spoke any such -speeches by me as was laid in my action which, till it was discovered, -moved great favour towards Beresford, and had like both to have abused -both her Majesty and Mr. Secretary, and clearly to have dishonoured me -(as Mr. Secretary informed me). This I take to be a grievous offence -done unto me. I thought good not to omit this, but to put you in -remembrance thereof, what great favour you have showed him, and was very -unfit to have been supported by you, when the case did touch me so near, -which I look for at your hands that you will confess. - -“And thus I end. - - “From Chelsea the 5th of August, 1586.” - -_Endorsed_: “The copy of my Lord’s letter to the Countess his wife, V. -August, 1586.” - - -_The Countess of Shrewsbury to the Earl._ - - -“My Lord, I hold myself most unfortunate that upon so slight occasion it -pleaseth you to write in this form to me: for what new offence is -committed since her Majesty reconciled us? If the denial of the plate be -the only cause, why then, my Lord, the true affirmation thereof in my -letter is more than my words, neither such a trifle I hoped could have -wrought so unkind effects; and were my state able I would not stand upon -such toys as those you speak of. Touching my son’s living, that is no -new cause, for it was long ago moved by you, and could never be -consented to by us, in respect of the reasons in my last letter -alleged.... My Lord, I know not how justly you can term me insatiable in -my desire of gaining, for my losses have been so great, with my charges, -that makes me desire honestly to discharge my debt with my children’s -lands, which you have no need of, and will not in my time discharge them -though we should live on nothing; and I am greedy of nobody’s lands, but -would keep the rest, which by all law, order, and conscience they ought -to possess. Neither my case and fortune hath been to maintain my -miseries with untruths, for receiving daily manifest discourtesies I -need not blush to speak truly. - -“I assure you, my Lord, my meaning is not to molest or grieve you with -demanding, neither I trust it can be thought greediness to demand -nothing, for I desire no more than her Majesty’s order giveth, and wish -your happy days to be many and good.... - -“Touching the postscript, my desire hath been so great to be with you -and save your long delays, that made me be an humble suitor to her -Majesty to be earnest with you, but not as you write. - -“For the other that I labour your stay, I assure you, my Lord, I did -not, but yet would be very glad that all were perfected here and then to -go down with you, and hoped also ere this we should have been on our way -into the country. - -“So, beseeching Almighty God to make you better conceive of me, I end, -wishing myself, without offence, with you, - - “Your obedient faithful wife, - “ELIZABETH SHREWSBURY. - -“Richmond, this Thursday.” - - -Like a pedal note through the long jangle runs the Queen’s order, upon -which Sir Charles Cavendish comments more than once. The main part of -it, of course, deals with the disposal of property, the outcome of the -affair being that the couple should travel down to the country together, -and the lands belonging to the Cavendishes revert to them. A footnote to -one copy of the order says that the meaning of this is not to take away -anything in the way of concessions already arranged, but only “to better -the Countess’s part.” - -Elizabeth was accused of partiality by the Earl. Her own attitude -towards him had been rather like that of some of his children, for she -had always made use of his possessions to suit her own purpose without -any intention of repayment. It is possible that from the innate -stinginess of her disposition she may have resented the fashion in which -he coupled accusations against his wife’s rapacity with his sore, -justifiable complaint that Mary’s imprisonment had impoverished him. In -a letter to Lord Leicester he can no longer control his feelings against -the Queen. Though written in 1585, it is quoted here as being pertinent. - -Bitter and rambling, it is in reply to one from Leicester, which shows -plainly that the Queen, as arbitrator, has thrown her weight into the -balance with the Countess. The document is quoted by Lodge from a rough -copy endorsed “The Earl of Shrewsbury’s answer to the Earl of -Leicester’s letter ... ultimo Aprilis, 1585,” and is therefore unsigned. - - - “My good Lord, - -“Since her Majesty hath declared her mind in the matter betwixt me and -my wife, and doubts not but in every respect I will observe it as her -Highness hath set it down and that the Lord Chancellor should take order -with me for the accomplishment thereof, well weighing her Majesty’s hard -censure of me and my causes; since my coming to Chelsea, I have not been -well, nor able to return my answer by your Lordship’s servant so -speedily as I would, but have now thought good to send this bearer, my -servant, Christopher Copley, unto your Lordship with this answer; that -as her Majesty doth demand and look for at my hands faith and due -obedience, as is the duty of every good subject to spend lands and life -in the defence of her Majesty’s person and realm, which I and my -ancestors have done and am ready at her Majesty’s commandment, so, for -the maintenance of my honour and credit, do I claim and demand of her -Majesty justice and benefit of her Majesty’s laws, never denied by her -Majesty nor by any of her noble progenitors, to any of the meanest of -her subjects before this; yet not doubting but that her Majesty will -have better consideration of me and my cause when she hath thoroughly -weighed of it; and that if she (for all my careful and faithful service, -to my great charges above my allowance in the keeping of that Lady for -sixteen years last past: with the extraordinary charges and expense of -her Majesty’s commissioners sent down, as of Sir Walter Mildmay, Mr. -Beale, and Sir Ralph Sadler, and others, their horse and men, for so -long time as they continued with me), will bestow nothing on me yet I -even thought she would have left me with what her Majesty’s laws had -given me. Since that her Majesty hath set down this hard sentence -against me, to my perpetual infamy and dishonour, to be ruled and -overrun by my wife, so bad and wicked a woman, yet her Majesty shall see -that I will obey her commandment, though no curse or plague in the earth -could be more grievous to me. These offers of my wife’s enclosed in your -letters I think them very unfit to be offered to me. It is too much to -make me my wife’s prisoner, and set me down the demesnes of Chatsworth, -without the house and other lands leased, which is but a pension in -money. I think it stands with reason that I should choose the £500 by -year ordered by her Majesty where I like best, according to the rate -William Cavendish delivered to my Lord Chancellor; or else I shall think -myself doubly wronged, which I am sure her Majesty will not offer unto -me. And thus I commit your Lordship to the tuition of the Almighty.” - - -The last sentence is entirely ironical after the preceding outburst. -Leicester was not the man to take spiritual counsel or to bestir himself -to his own disadvantage. He was essentially a “trimmer,” and the -guardianship of the Almighty was only a matter of speech for him. He -seems to have remained fairly neutral after this, to judge from what -Henry Talbot writes from London on the 6th of August to his father:— - - -“All your Lordship’s affairs here are well; and your wife doth exclaim -against my Lord Leicester, because, as she saith, he hath not been so -good as his promise. Her Majesty, praise to God, is well, and marvelleth -she can hear nothing from your Lordship, and she useth the best speeches -that may be of your Lordship.” - - -To this letter there is a delightful postscript giving a suggestive and -greedy message from one of Shrewsbury’s friends:— - - -“My Lord Mayor hath his humble duty remembered unto your Lordship, and -says he hopes your Lordship’s bucks are fat this summer.” - - -So did all the world sponge upon the once wealthy George Talbot. - -Another letter from Henry Talbot is a sort of amplification of the -attitudes of his Queen and wife, and though he could not but be -flattered by that of the first there was everything to torture him -acutely in her professions after the treatment he had received:— - - -“May it please your Honour to be advertised that I came from Court upon -the 20th of this present where I left all things very well, and her -Majesty saith she doth marvel greatly that she hath received but one -letter from your Lordship since your going down. Moreover she herself -told me that she marvelled she heard no oftener from you, whom it -pleased to term her love, declaring further what care she had of your -health, and what a trouble your sickness was unto her; whereunto I -answered that your Lordship’s chiefest comfort, and speedy recovery of -your health, proceeded from her Majesty’s so gracious favour and -countenance bestowed upon you; whereat her Majesty smiled, saying, -“Talbot, I have not yet shewed unto him that favour which hereafter we -mean to do.”” - - -Words, words! This was the coin in which Elizabeth paid the faithful -among her subjects, her kinsmen included. But to resume the letter: “As -touching your wife’s causes, she lieth still in Chancery Lane, and doth -give out that she meaneth to continue there and not to go into the -country. My Lord, my brother’s wife, and her brother, the -Knight”—meaning Sir Charles Cavendish—“do attend very diligently at -Court, and little respect there is had of them; nevertheless they cease -not to follow, to the end the world may say they are in credit.” - -The nearest approach to a final and reasonable settlement was suggested -by the Earl’s proposal to settle £1500 a year on his wife, with -Chatsworth House and other lands, under certain conditions, a document -which raised a good deal of discussion on both sides. Out of this -cauldron of anger, misery, and sordidness emerged at last once more the -royal order, final and distinct: The Earl was to receive his wife, and -take probation of her obedience for one year, and if she proved -forgetful of her duty was to place her in her house at Chatsworth. Rents -and assurance of lands were also clearly set forth, and it was ordained -that all actions for plate, jewels, and hangings were to be stayed. - -The Countess had the last word on this, for her practical instinct -prompted her instantly to request that her Majesty should appoint -someone to be an eye-witness “in house” with the Earl and herself. -Further, she begged that she might not, failing their final agreement, -be confined to Chatsworth House only, and besought her Majesty “to -conclude her honourable and godly work” as speedily as possible. - -Early in August, 1586, the Queen passed this final order of -reconciliation. Assured of the willingness of the couple to cease their -strife, she summoned them to her presence, and “in many good words -showed herself very glad thereof, and the Earl and Countess in good sort -departed together very comfortably.” Wingfield was their destination, -and was named in the original order drawn up already in March. - - - THE QUEEN’S ORDER. - -“An order pronounced by her Majesty between the Earl of Shrewsbury and -the Countess his wife in the presence of the Secretary (Walsingham). - -“That the said Earl shall give present order for the conveying of the -said Countess to some one of his principal manor houses in Derbyshire, -furnished for her to remain in, with liberty to go either to Chatsworth -or Hardwick, and to return to the Earl’s house at her pleasure. - -“That the said Earl shall allow to the said Countess towards the -defraying of the charges of household £300 and fuel until he shall yield -to cohabitation, and doth also promise in respect of her Majesty’s -mediation further gratuity of yearly provision for the maintenance of -her said house. - -“That the said Earl shall appoint four or five of his own men to attend -upon the said Countess and shall pay them their wages. - -“The said Earl promiseth her Majesty to resort sometimes to the house -where the said Countess shall lie, as also to send for the said Countess -upon notice given of her desire to some other house where he himself -shall remain, and in case she shall so behave herself toward him as one -that by good and dutiful ways [?] will do her best endeavour to recover -his former good opinion and love, then it is to be hoped that continual -cohabitation will follow, which her Majesty greatly desires.” - -All this looks highly promising. It arouses glowing hopes in the minds -of the onlookers that after many toils and dangers, social and -political, such a man and such a woman, born to eminence and possessed -of great qualities, will enjoy many happy years together, quit of their -old intolerable burden, the care of “the Daughter of Debate.” Such a -letter as this from the faithful Gilbert Dickenson, which welcomes my -Lord home to his manor and his acres, telling of the folk who gather to -greet him, and of the fatted calf in preparation, completes the -picture:— - - -“May it please your Lo. to understand that divers honest men have heard -of your Lo. coming home and would have come to meet your Lo. but that I -have stayed them till I hear further of your Lo. pleasure; and there is -such running from house to house to tell that your Lo. did lie at -Wingfield all night and everyone preparing to meet your L. - -“Your Lo. should come into the country with such love as never did man -in England, which is a greater comfort to us than any worldly riches, -and for sheep, oxen, and lambs shall not be wanting nor anything which -can be got, God willing.” - - -Alack for love and hope! Only two months after this stately cavalcade of -Earl and Lady travelled home, the Countess addressed the Treasurer -again. She had sore complaints to make of her husband. - -“My singular good Lord,” she wrote, “I most humbly and heartily thank -your Lo. for your letter sent by my son William Cavendish. It is my -greatest comfort that it pleaseth your Lo. to have care of me, else -grief and displeasure would have ended my days. Since my coming into the -country my Lo. my husband hath come to his home Wingfield, where I most -remain, not past three times; more I have not seen him; he stayed not -over a day at a time at his being here.... Since my coming down, he hath -allowed me gross provisions as beef, mutton, and corn to serve my house, -but now not long since he hath sent me word that he will not allow me -any further and doth withdraw all his provision, not suffering me to -have sufficient fire.”[81] She goes on to say that if all were as her -Majesty desired and assured her, namely, that she might be always with -her husband, she would not need such allowances of provision, etc. etc. - -This attitude of the Earl strikes one as a little petty at this -juncture. He had, after all, large estates and many houses, and there -was no need to starve his lady out of Wingfield, even if their -characters and moods were finally and utterly incompatible. - -All through these years 1586–7 he was still worried by Gilbert’s -affairs. The letters which follow explain themselves. - -The first is a denunciation of Gilbert’s extravagant wife:— - - - “Son Gilbert, - -“I thank you for your pains taken in certifying me of those your sundry -news, being the very same in effect that I heard of the day before I -received your letter. For answer thereto, you shall understand my -meaning towards you is as good as it was at that our departure you put -me in mind of; but for any help about the payment of your debts I do -advise you altogether to rely on yourself, and the best discharge you -shall be able to make thereof, than any ways upon me; who, least my -silence in that behalf, and at this time, might breathe some hope -agreeable to your conceived opinion, do in sadness, as you did in jest, -return you a short answer for your long warning; willing you either to -provide for yourself, as you may, or else be disappointed; for during my -life, I would not have you to expect any more at my hands than I have -already allowed you, whereof I know you might live well, and clear from -danger of any, as I did, if you had that governance over your wife, as -her pomp and court-like manner of life were some deal assuaged. And, for -mine own part, and your good, I do wish you had but half so much to -relieve your necessities as she and her mother have spent in seeking, -through malice, mine overthrow and dishonour, and I in defending my just -cause against them: by means of whose evil dealings, together with other -bargains wherein I have entangled myself of late, I am not able either -to help you, or store myself for any other purpose I shall take in hand -these twelve months. Thus praying God to bless you, I bid you farewell. - - “Sheffield Lodge, the 17th of June, 1587. - “Your loving father, - “G. SHREWSBURY.” - - -The next is from the newest mediator between Talbot and Cavendish, Sir -Henry Lee, a long-winded but delightful personage of romantic and -fantastic temperament. Lodge assures us that he was “bred from infancy -in Courts and camps,” and that this induced him not only to take a -leading part in tilts and tournaments, but led to his assumption of the -“self-created title of Champion of the Queen,” and that he made a vow to -present himself in the tiltyard in that character on the 27th of -November in every year, till disabled by age. This vow he kept, and upon -his retirement at the age of sixty installed as his successor the Earl -of Cumberland in the presence of Queen and Court, “offering his armour -at her Majesty’s feet, and clothing himself in a black velvet coat and -cap.” - - - _Sir Henry Lee to Lord Talbot._ - - - “Sir, - -“On Monday last I received your letter; on Thursday I went to Sheffield, -my Lord, your father’s, where I found him much amended, after his -physic, of the gout, which took him at Brierly, and troubled him until -then. My being there made him much better disposed, of whom I received -many sundry kindnesses and more favours than I have or ever may deserve. -Acknowledgment is small requital, but that I do and will, to him, -yourself, and yours, in as sundry ways as by my wit, will, and fortune I -may. Dinner done, and all rising saving his Lordship and my poor self, I -told him I had written to you, according to his liberty given me upon -such talk as his Lordship had last with me at Worksop; that I received -an answer which then I presented unto him. I left him alone; Mr. Henry -Talbot, Roger Portington, your very good friend, with myself, standing -at the window, where I, that knew the sundry contents of the letter, -might see any alteration in himself, as they that stood by imagined by -his sighs, guessed according to their humours. Your letter perused (and -well marked, as it did well appear unto me by his speeches immediately -after), rising from the board, with more colour in his cheeks than -ordinary, he led me by the hand into his withdrawing chamber, where he -told me he did well perceive the contents of your letter; that you had -been long a disobedient child to him; that you joined and practiced -against him, and with such as sought his overthrow, and consequently -your own undoing, and the espials and parties you had in his house did -show your care to be more for that he had himself; but, withal, he knew -you had many good parts, but those overruled by others that should be -better governed by yourself. More regard, he says, to your old father, -would do well; who has been ever loving unto you and must be requited -with more love and obedience, or else (by his divination) your credit -will slowly increase. He is glad, as he says, that you live in those -parts (but he speaks ironia) where some good may be learned, but more to -be shunned; yet all well where grace is, so you are able to go through -withal; but for the feeding of such vain time and superfluous excess as -should do best for yourself to diminish, he is not able, he says, and I -fear will never be willing, to maintain. He reckoned how many had been -in hand with him for the payment of your debts; my Lord Treasurer and -others. His answer was that, through the wilfulness of him, who shunned -his advice, and the imperfections of others, his undoing should not -grow, that they themselves might have cause to pity him in his age, -through his folly and their persuasions. There, my Lord, he told that -three thousand pounds nearly went out of his living to his children, and -many other sums to small purpose to remember. He confessed he sent you -such a letter as you write of, and written by a man of his, but -altogether by his direction. But he was old, lame of the gout, and now -no more able to write himself. He spake much of your inconstancy in your -friendships, and especially to my Lord of Leicester; sometimes, as you -favoured, there was not such; and laboured himself to rely more upon -him, altogether misliking such humours as favoured and disfavoured in -such sort, and in so short a time; but, for himself, he would fly such -variety, and perform his friendship and faith. Truly, my Lord, he used -many of these speeches before I interrupted him, and good reason I had -to forbear, for he spoke not without grief, as I guess, and passion, I -am sure; therefore [I] thought best to stay until the storm was somewhat -overblown. At the last I besought him to tell me whether these old -grievances were not remitted upon conference between yourselves; and -whether your abode there was not with his good allowance, that you -should procure yourself to be joined with him in his offices; further, -that you should, by good means, procure some honourable office for your -better understanding. All this he did not deny, but, touching his -discourse, I think not fit to set it down, my messenger is so uncertain, -and my meaning to do good, if I may, but no hurt. He is old and unwieldy -and deceived by such he trusteth, and you shun to assist him, and -therefore will let out all; but that I believe not. I found one thing in -your letter: I said that I feared, and made me sorry; that your -favouring so much your own credit, and finding so small means to answer -your creditors, you might fall into some hard course; and, before these -words were all out of my mouth, he said, ‘Yea, marry, some desperation.’ -Therefore I took hold: ‘Good my Lord, license me to speak with your -favour, that speak nothing by practice again, but through a dutiful mind -to you, now in years, and for yours, by course of nature likely to -succeed you. If he should, as you have termed it, take any desperate -way, pass into those parts which this doubtful time brings, to many -dangers, and especially to our nation, were not this peril great, and, -by presumption, not to be recovered? You cannot be ignorant, for all -your mislike, what a son you have; esteemed of the highest, favoured of -the best, and the best judgments, and how much he differs from other -men’s sons of your own conditions; so much your love, care, and regard -should be the more by how much your loss were more (to be balanced by -reason) than all the rest put together. Your country may and will -challenge a part and party in him, as a wise man, fit and able to serve -it. You yet find not what a Lord Talbot you have; but if he should by -any extraordinary accident be taken from you, and not to be recovered, -yourself, with your grief, would accompany your white hair to your end -with a grave full of cares; and who doth sooner enter into desperation -than great wits accompanied with mighty and honourable hearts, which -hardly can away with want, but never with discredit?’ This, my Lord, -sunk somewhat into him. He confessed much of this. He mused long, and -spake little: he stayed, standing long, without complaining of his legs -(by reason he was earnest) one hour and a half at the least before we -parted. So, in many doubts, I left him, minding to send such letters as -you required, to Welbeck and thence to be sent to you: wherewith I took -my leave. - -“I will never take upon me to advise you. You see now what passed, and -upon what grounds; therefore resolve, upon temperate blood and good -judgment, and free advice, for the time present: remembering both love -and duty, and that you deal with a kind man. I wish a sudden journey, at -the least to see him; he must needs take it well, and I know your age -may endure it; your friends desire it, and I among the rest (to see you -ere I go from these parts) that loveth you, whose being here with my -Lady, would have made this country to me far otherwise than it is, and -my abode much longer than it is like to be. I have troubled you long. -The news is that my Lady Talbot, the widow, and your sister my Lady -Mary, with my Lady Manners, as I take it came to Sheffield this night -past. I think my Lord will to Hatfield the next week that cometh, or the -week following, with such company as he hath, but the certainty I know -not: but whether he go there, or no, I wish you would haste to meet him. -My brother, Mr. Portington, Mr. Lascelles, with myself, and Mr. Fawley, -recommendeth our love and service to your good Lordship. I beseech you -let me be remembered humbly unto my Lady, and to good Sir Charles -Candishe and his family, wishing them both the best happiness. - -“From Lettwell, the 13th of August, 1587. - - “Your Lordship’s poor and faithful friend ever, - “HENRY LEE.” - - - _The Earl of Shrewsbury to Sir Henry Lee._ - - - “Good Sir Henry Lee, - -“I have perused that enclosed letter you sent me within yours, and do -account you most faithful and forward to do good where you profess -friendship. Neither can the eloquence of the one, nor the earnest desire -of the other, persuade me to do otherwise in that matter than I have -already, upon good consideration, determined. My son compares my words -with his own conceits, and means to save his credit as shall content me, -but when he sealeth I will assure. I proposed to leave him in better -case than my father left me, and if I give him so much as I cannot -withhold, I am not in his debt. I forgave him all his faults, but I -promised him not that I would trust him. He can bring the honour of his -house now to make for his purpose, but he remembereth not how he went -about to dishonour it. He laboured not to make sure my Lord of Leicester -of their side that went about to accuse his father of treason. He did -not countenance his wife and her mother against me in all their bad -actions. His deceits never moved me to be displeased. Well, if they did, -I pronounce forgiveness thereof to his friend, as I have done before -unto him. He knoweth whereof his grief grew; let him henceforth avoid -the occasions. He says he is not overruled by his wife, but attributes -that to my speeches: but I say, if he be not he will quickly recover, -and live better of his annuity than I could do when I bare his name, -with less allowance. Yet (notwithstanding his doubtful words of your -welcome hither, in respect you have moved me for his good) I beseech you -come ten times for every one past; assuring you that the most eloquent -orator in England can do no more with me than you have, till I perceive -a new course. Thus, with my hearty commendations, I bid you farewell. - -“Sheffield, September 6th, 1587. - - “Your loving friend, - “G. SHREWSBURY.” - - -The long letter from Sir Henry Lee gives a pathetic and vivid portrait -of the old Government official who feels himself at last like a worn-out -tool, unloved, unnecessary to the world—save when his position as a -premier peer required him to raise levies for the defence and contest of -Ireland, or county matters called him from retirement in his military -and judicial capacity. To the very end he was a prompt official, and his -family motto, “Prest d’Accomplir,” his watchword. In 1586 he was still -among those who receive urgent orders to arm and prepare bodies of -Derbyshire fighting men, and must give his attention to the most absurd -details of uniform, such as the “convenient hose and doublet, and a -cassock of motley ... either sea-green colour or russet,” noted among -the regulations issued by his fellows of the Privy Council. - -These things are, however, only flashes in the pan. He is getting old. -All the world was growing old, and all his contemporaries, in the phrase -of the day, were “a little thing sickish.” The intrepid and laborious -Walsingham is described as being “troubled with his old diseases: the -tympany and carnosity,” and so is absent from Court. Letters still -flowed in to the Earl, news of the Netherlands campaign, from the now -depressed Lord Leicester, the Governor, news of the Queen’s movements, -of Spain, of the legal strife of his contemporaries and friends. They -are only sticks and straws flung into the deep and turgid current of his -lonely, embittered life. - -It was in the midst of such disputes as these that the summons had come -to him from Fotheringay. - - - - - CHAPTER XX - FADING GLORIES - - -His own household and many of his tenants were faithful to the Earl -Marshal. Fortunately he had not at the moment much leisure for private -broodings. The Babington conspiracy had churned up the old alarms about -Mary, the Royal Commission for her trial was being appointed, and, -though he was fortunately able to plead illness as an excuse for once -more repairing to London to take his seat in this important meeting of -the Council, he was obliged by letter to Burghley to assert his -willingness to add his name to the decree of the Privy Council in regard -to Mary’s sentence, at the same time enclosing his seal and giving the -Lord Treasurer full authority to sign for him. Did he at the moment of -writing recall that broidered motto which must have flashed at him many -times from the dais which his prisoner contrived for herself in her -imprisonment: “En ma fin est mon commencement”? If so, the pride and -pathos of it must have struck home terribly. For he too was nearing his -end. He too had naught but sorrow in his heir, and though Gilbert, -Edward, and Henry Talbot still lived to carry on his name, it could not -be in a very hopeful spirit that he thought upon the continuance of his -line so long as he apprehended the renewal of family strife and could -not forgive or love again his high-handed lady. - -Many things had happened to Mary since they parted, notably the failure -of the last great conspiracy for her freedom. Of all these he was fully -informed, and sums up her affairs in a single phrase in the ensuing -letter:— - - - “_To the Right Honourable my verie good Lord the Lord Burghley, Lord - Thresorer of England._ - - “My noble good Lord, - -“I have received your Lordship’s letters both of the 12th November and -the 14th of the same, whereby I find myself greatly beholden unto your -Lordship for your good remembrance of me, with the proceeding of the -foul matters of the Scots Queen; sentence whereof, I understand by your -Lordship, is given and confirmed, and for execution to be had -accordingly. I perceive it now resteth in her Majesty’s hands; for my -own part I pray that God may so inspire her heart to take that course as -may be for her Majesty’s own safety; the which I trust her Majesty’s -grave wisdom will wisely foresee; which in my consent cannot be without -speedy execution. - -“And thus wishing to your good Lordship as to myself, do bid you right -heartily farewell. Your Lordship’s assuredly, - - “SHREWSBURY. - -“Orton Longville, this 17th November, 1586.” - - -In spite of illness, Shrewsbury could not escape the wretched -responsibility of assisting at the tragedy of Fotheringay. There he was -forced, on February 8th, 1587, to stand upon the high stage, seven feet -square and five feet high, to receive Mary as she mounted it to her -death. “At the two upper corners were two stools set,” runs the -record,[82] “one for the Earl of Shrewsbury, another for the Earl of -Kent; directly between the said stools was placed a block one foot high, -covered with black, and before that stood a little cushioned stool for -the Queen to sit on while her apparel was taken off.... Being come into -the hall, she stayed and with a smiling countenance asked Shrewsbury why -none of her own servants were suffered to be present. He answered that -the Queen, his mistress, had so commanded. ‘Alas,’ quoth she, ‘far -meaner persons than myself have not been denied so small a favour, and I -hope the Queen’s Majesty will not deal so hardly with me.’ ‘Madam,’ -quoth Shrewsbury, ‘it is so appointed to avoid two inconveniences: the -one that it is likely your people will shriek and make some fearful -noise in the time of your execution, and so both trouble you and us, or -else press with some disorder to get of your blood and keep it for a -relic, and minister offence that way.’ ‘My Lord,’ she answered, ‘I pray -you for my better quietness of mind let me have some of my servants -about me, and I will give you my word that they shall not offend in any -sort.’ Upon which promise two of her women and five of her men were sent -for, who coming into the hall and seeing the place of execution prepared -and their sovereign mistress expecting death, they began to cry out in -most woeful and pitiful sort; wherewith she held up her hand, willing -them for her sake to forbear and be silent, ‘for,’ quoth she, ‘I have -passed my word to these lords that you shall be quiet and not offend -them.’ And presently there appeared in them a wonderful show of -subjection and loyal obedience as to their natural prince, whom even at -the instant of death they honoured with all reverence and duty. For -though their breasts were seen to rise and swell as if their wounded -hearts would have burst in sunder, yet did they, to their double grief, -forbear their outward plaints to accomplish her pleasure. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - STATUE OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS AT HARDWICK HALL - - Page 310 -] - -“As soon as she was upon the stage there came to her a heretic called -Doctor Fletcher, Dean of Peterborough, and told her how the Queen his -sovereign, moved with an unspeakable care of her soul, had sent him to -instruct and comfort her in the true words of God. At which she somewhat -turned her face towards him, saying, ‘Mr. Doctor, I will have nothing to -do with you nor your doctrine’; and forthwith kneeled down before the -block and began her meditations in most godly manner. Then the doctor -entered also into a form of new-fashioned prayers; but the better to -prevent the hearing of him, she raised her voice, and prayed so loud, as -he could not be understood. The Earl of Shrewsbury then spoke to her and -told her that he would pray with her and for her. ‘My Lord,’ quoth she, -‘if you will pray for me I thank you; but, in so doing, pray secretly by -yourself, for we will not pray together.’ Her meditations ended, she -arose up and kissed her two gentlewomen, and bowed her body towards her -men, and charged them to remember her to her sweet son, to whom she sent -her blessing, with promise to pray for him in heaven; and lastly to -salute her friends, and so took her last farewell of her poor servants. - -“The executioners then began, after their rough and rude manner, to -disrobe her, and while they were so doing, she looked upon the noblemen, -and smilingly said, ‘Now truly, my Lords, I never had two such grooms -waiting on me before!’ Then, being ready for the block, one of her women -took forth a handkerchief of cambric—all wrought over with gold -needlework—and tied it about her face; which done, Fletcher willed her -to die in the true faith of Christ. Quoth she: ‘I believe firmly to be -saved by the passion and blood of Jesus Christ, and therein also I -believe according to the faith of the Ancient Catholic Church of Rome, -and therefore I shed my blood.’” - -After this the Earl went home, evidently to Sheffield, with time enough -to brood once more upon his sickness and his troubles. In 1587 he was -certainly at Wingfield with his wife—at least for a brief space—for he -wrote to inform Burghley of the fact in obedience to her Majesty’s -request. But he was still thoroughly suspicious and distrustful of her -attitude. On one occasion, as it seems by the following letter from -Nicholas Kynnersley, my Lady had just left Wingfield when my Lord sent -his man Gilbert Dickenson to enquire her movements. The letter which -puts the magnificent pair in such a pitiful light is relieved by a -gracious allusion to little Arabella, left behind at Wingfield, -apparently in Kynnersley’s charge:— - - -“The night after John was come with my letter Elizabeth told me that -Gilbert Dickenson came to her in the [bakehouse] and asked if your Ho. -were here; and she answered ‘No.’ And he asked when you went away, and -she said ‘Yesterday.’ He asked when you would come again; she answered -‘Shortly as she thought.’ And late at night there came a boy from -Sheffield in a green coat, and talked with them in the stable, and said -he must go very early in the morning to Sheffield again. What the -meaning of these questions and the lackey coming so late and going so -early in the morning, I know not, except it be to bring me Lo. words of -your absence here, and so that he might come upon you sudden and find -you away. So I leave it to your Ho. wisdom to consider of it as you -think best; but I think good you were there. Mr. Knifton rode by to-day -to Sheffield as I was told, and called not as I ... told which I marvel -of. My La. Arbella at eight of the clock this night was merry, and eats -her meat well; but she went not to the school these six days; therefore -I would be glad of your La. coming, if there were no other matter but -that. So I beseech the Almighty preserve your La. in health, and send -you soon a good and comfortable end of all your great troubles and -griefs. - -“Wingfield, this Tuesday, the 5th of November, at 8 of the clock at -night, 1588. - - “Your Ho. most dutyful bound obedient servant, - “NICHOLAS KINNSLAY. - -“To the right Ho. my singular good La. and Mistress the Countess of -Salop give this with speed.”[83] - - -While this “singular good lady” was still busy trying to induce the Earl -to live with her “in house,” he had sundry official business to -transact. In 1588 he was hard at work “routing recusants,” egging on the -Sheffield Commissioners appointed to that duty, and certifying himself -and the Queen of the military efficiency of the counties under his -lieutenancy—for the Spanish fleet hovered ever round the English coast. -More “seminary priests” did he rout, and used his energy in inducing -folk to go to the Established Church, offering his old “lame body” for -the Queen’s service, since “her quarrel should make him young again.” -Within a few months of his death he is mentioned in State records as -having successfully pounced upon a certain papistical Lady Foljambe and -committed her to polite imprisonment in the house of her relative. - -This next letter from Gilbert and Mary Talbot to their mother shows -entire devotion to her at this difficult period, and is happily free -from the old tale-bearing and espionage of previous years:— - - -“Our bounden duty most humbly remembered. In like humbleness we render -your La. thanks for your letter; the last though not the least of your -infinite goodnesses towards us and ours. We are safely come hither to -Dunstable (we thank God) this Shrove Monday at night; and for that the -foul way is past, we think best to return your La. letter again from -hence. - -“Such news as on the Queen’s highways we have met with, your La. shall -now understand. First that her Majesty (royally in person) was at the -parliament house the first day of this parliament; where Serjeant Snagge -was admitted for the Speaker of the lower house. My Lord of Derby is -Lord Steward during this session. That yesterday one told a man of mine -that as yet nothing of any moment hath been touched in the lower house, -neither any expectation that any great matters will be handled, but it -will shortly end. That a day or two before the parliament began, the -Lord Chancellor and the Lord Treasurer, with one or two more of the -privy council, and Mr. Attorney and Mr. Solicitor were with the Earl of -Arundel in the Tower; since which time there hath been no such speech of -his arraignment, as there was before. This is all the Queen’s highways -hath afforded us of news. Yet further we hear that all your -Ladyship’s ...[84] are very well. And thus in haste, most humbly -beseeching your La. blessing to us and all ours who pray evermore to the -most highest to grant unto your La. all contentment with long life, we -humbly cease, till our next letter, which shall not be long. - -“Your La. most humble and obedient loving children, - - “GILB. TALBOTT. MARY TALBOTT. - -“We have desired your La. letter men to bring a letter to your La. from -Beskewood, where Mrs. Markham’s earnest entreaty made us to leave her -till the return thereof. I beseech the Almighty to send your La. my La. -Arball and the rest of your La.’s a most happy long life. - -“To my Lady.” - - -The date of this is 1589. Shrewsbury by this time has lapsed into -retirement. He falls finally into old age. Elizabeth’s boasting promise -that she would give him still greater proof of her trust he would be -justified in receiving with a sardonic grunt. Of what use were her -favours to him now? She, well into her fifties, could dance, sing, ride, -pester her ladies, and flirt with her gentlemen. “The Queen,” writes a -friend of the Talbots in 1589, “is so well as I assure you: six or seven -gallyards in a morning, besides music and singing, is her ordinary -exercise.” This is just a year after the death of her adored Leicester, -immediately upon his return from his governorship of the Netherlands, -which he had so hated. The days of his departure for that task were the -days of Elizabeth’s disfavour. “My Lord,” he wrote pathetically to -Shrewsbury in 1585, “no man feeleth comfort but they that have cause of -griefe, and no men have so much neede of reliefe and comfort as those -that go in these doubtful services. I pray you, my Lord, help us to be -kept in comfort, for that we wyll hazard our lyfe for it.” Shrewsbury -and his Countess could echo that cry from the depths of their hearts, -for they too were of the company of those “that go in ... doubtful -services.” - -Thus Leicester, the splendid lover, was dead—of a fever caught on his -way home to Kenilworth. Elizabeth still danced, still had zest and -appetite for masque and ceremonial. But Shrewsbury and Burghley, after -they had written their stately condolences to the Queen, corresponded -with one another about health matters. In 1589 the former sends a -pathetic old man’s gift to his friend of ointment for his joints and “a -small rug” to wrap about his legs “at times convenient,” while a flask -of fine “oyle of roses” was in these days more necessary than ale to the -once stalwart Earl Marshal of England. - -From time to time Burghley sends to his friend the State news, with -suppressed allusions here and there to his illnesses and sorrows. Lady -Burghley was dead, and though her husband was able to write in his old -dignified fashion of affairs at Court, he avoids all its recreations. -“The Queen is at Barn Elms, but this night I will attend her at -Westminster, for I am no man meet for feastings,” runs a pathetic -postscript from him. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, from the painting by Zucchero at - Hardwick Hall_ - _By permission of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire_ - - QUEEN ELIZABETH - - Page 316 -] - -To Elizabeth, Shrewsbury had played the part which she assigned to one -of her lovers, the Duke of Anjou, to whom she wrote apropos of his -persistency that she should never cease to love and esteem him as the -dog which, being often chastised, returns to its master: “comme le chien -qui estant souvent batu retourne a son maitre.” To her lovers she could -say such things with impunity, to her servants she only implied them. -Her beaten yet steadfast hound, Shrewsbury, true to his family’s emblem -of the faithful “Talbot dog,” lay chiefly in these days at his small -manor of Handsworth pouring out his soul in letters. There seem to be -none available from his wife during his last years, though she was to -the end truly anxious to be on happier terms with him, and made every -possible effort to achieve this. Once more Elizabeth used her good -offices with the honest intent to restore him to happiness. In what was -practically the last private letter she ever wrote him, despatched in -December, 1589, she addressed him as “her very good old man,” was -anxious for news of his health, particularly at this inclement season, -sympathised with his gout, and begged him to permit his wife sometimes -to have access to him according to her long-cherished wish. He seems to -have brooded heavily, as of yore—to a conscience so tender the brooding -nature is often a sorry twin brother—and to have discussed the matter -without any happy result. About this time he wrote to his intimate -friend the Bishop of Lichfield on the subject. The Bishop’s views are -set forth in his reply. His view of the married estate is a highly -morose one. Yet he begs the Earl, for decency’s sake, to patch up the -quarrel finally. - - - _The Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry to the Earl of Shrewsbury._ - - - “Right honourable, my singular good Lord, - -“I am bold according to my promise, to put you in remembrance of some -matters already passed between us in talk. It is an old saying, and as -true as old, a thing well begun is half ended. It pleased your good -Lordship, at my late being with you, to confer with me about divers -points touching the good estate of this our shire, whereof yourself, -next under her Majesty, is the chief governor; and I hope, as you then -begun them in good time, so very shortly they will be brought to very -good perfection.... Thus much for those common affairs we had in -conference; now the chief and last matter that we talked of, and a -matter indeed both in conscience chiefly to be regarded of you, and in -duty still to be urged and called upon by me, was the good and godly -reconciliation of you together, I mean my Lordship and my Lady your -wife. I humbly thank your good Lordship you were content then to take my -motion in good part, and to account it for a good piece of mine office -and charge to travel in such cases, as indeed it is, and therefore, I -trust you will be as willing now to see me write as you were then to -hear me speak in that matter; and the more, because I speak and write as -well of mere love and goodwill to yourself, as for any respect also of -discharging my duty unto God; and yet, also, you must think chiefly and -principally that I speak and write to discharge my duty to God, and must -take all that I do to proceed, not as from a common friend and -hanger-on, but as from a special ghostly father, stirred up of God -purposely, as I hope, to do good unto you both by my ghostly advice. My -honourable good Lord, I cannot see but that it must needs rest as a -great clog to your conscience, if you consider the matter as it is, and -will weigh the case according to the rule of God’s word: I say I cannot -see but that it must needs rest and remain a great clog and burthen to -your conscience to live asunder from the Countess your wife, without her -own good liking and consent thereto; for, as I have told you heretofore, -it is the plain doctrine of Saint Paul that the one should not defraud -the other of due benevolence nor of mutual comfort and company, but with -the agreement of both parties, and that also but for a time, and only to -give yourselves to fasting and prayer. This is the doctrine of Saint -Paul, and this doctrine Christ Himself confirmed in the Gospel when He -forbiddeth all men to put away their wives unless for adultery, a thing -never suspected in my Lady your wife. I could bring forth many -authorities and examples both of the Holy Scriptures and other, profane -writers, to prove that such kind of separations have always been holden -unlawful and ungodly, not only among the people of God, but also among -the heathen themselves that never knew God; and I could likewise show -what fearful judgments of God have followed such unlawful separations, -and what great plagues have fallen upon not only the offenders -themselves, but also upon their houses and children, and all their -posterity after them; but I shall not need to use any such discourse to -your Lordship, because so wise, so grave, so well disposed as indeed you -are of yourself if other evil counsellors did not draw you to the -contrary; who also shall not want their part in the play, for, as the -proverb saith, so experience proveth the same to be true, _consilium -malum consultori pessimum_, evil counsel falleth out worst to the -counsel giver. - -“But some will say in your Lordship’s behalf that the Countess is a -sharp and bitter shrew, and therefore like enough to shorten your life -if she should keep you company. Indeed, my good Lord, I have heard some -say so, but if shrewdness or sharpness may be a just cause of separation -between a man and wife, I think few men in England would keep their -wives long; for it is a common jest, yet true in some sense, that there -is but one shrew in all the world and every man hath her; and so every -man might be rid of his wife that would be rid of a shrew. My honourable -good Lord, I doubt not but your great wisdom and experience hath taught -you to bear some time with the woman as with the weaker vessel; and yet, -for the speeches I have had with her Ladyship in that behalf, I durst -pawn all my credit unto your Lordship (and, if need be, also bind myself -in any great bond), she will so bridle herself that way, beyond the -course of other women, that she will rather bear with your Lordship, -than look to be borne withal; and yet to be borne withal sometimes is -not amiss for the best and wisest and patientest of us all. But -peradventure some of your friends will object greater matter against -her; as that she hath sought to overthrow your whole house; but those -that say so I think are not your Lordship’s friends, but rather her -Ladyship’s enemies, and their speech carrieth no resemblance of truth; -for how can it be likely that she should seek or wish the overthrow of -you or your house, when not only, being your wife, your prosperity must -needs profit her very much, but also, having joined her house with your -house in marriage, your long life and honourable state must needs glad -her heart to the uttermost; if not for your own sake, yet for the issue -of both your bodies, whom she loveth, I dare say, as her own life, and -would not see by her goodwill to fall into any decay, either of honour -or any other good state of life or livings; although, also, I dare say -she wisheth all good unto you for your own sake, as well as theirs, or -else she would not be so desirous of your life and company as she is. -And therefore, I beseech your Lordship remove all such conceits far from -you as are beaten into your head by evil counsellors, and rather think -this unlawful separation to be a stain to your house, and a danger to -your life; for that God, indeed, is not well pleased with it, Who will -visit with death or sickness all that live not after His laws, as of -late yourself had some little touch or taste given you of it by those or -the nearest friends of those whom you most trusted about you. For my own -part, I wish your Lordship all good, even from my heart; both long life -and honourable state, with all increase of honour, and joy and comfort -in the Lord to your own heart’s desire; but yet both I and you, and all -of us that are God’s children, must think that such visitations are sent -us of God to call us home, and if we despise them when they are sent, He -will lay greater upon us. Thus I am bold, my good Lord, both in the fear -of God and in goodwill towards yourself, to discharge the duty of your -well-willing ghostly father, and if your Lordship accept it well, as I -hope you will, I beseech you let me understand it by a line or two, that -I may give God thanks for it; if not, I have done my part; the success I -leave to God; and rest yours, notwithstanding, in what I may, and so I -humbly take my leave of your good Lordship. - -“From Eccleshall, the 12th of October, 1590. - - “Your Lordship’s in all duty to command, - “W. COVEN. AND LICH.” - - -It is not necessary to lay stress on the sheer fatuity and unwisdom of -three-fourths of such a letter. But the gross injustice of it has never -been fully appreciated by historians. In the first place, Bess of -Hardwick was not a mere shrew—as has been amply set forth. She was a -woman of great capabilities, and superabundant driving power which, -insufficiently controlled, ended in a blindness to any point of view but -her own, and so caused her to utter under provocation, stress, and -disappointment hard and foolish things which the Earl could not forget. -The estrangement had certainly gone too far for peace. The time for such -things as a renewal of trust and love between the two was past. Within a -month or two—in the January of 1591—the Earl died. Gossip—wise after the -event—declared that with his last breath he groaned over the -possibilities of disaster which would descend upon his family through -his wife’s schemes for Arabella. - -In the previous year the great Walsingham, worn out by stress of affairs -and labour, succumbed also—to his “tympany and carnosity.” - -And, since the world and his wife must be amused, and the Queen needed -distraction from heavy cares of State, she went forth to be entertained -at a public fête a day after the death of her much-enduring “good old -man.” - -To the last he could not forget the great slander. Even his tomb -witnesses, in his own words, to his virtue. He must have brooded -carefully over this epitaph and the memorial which bears it in Sheffield -Church. All allusion to his second wife is omitted, and in regard to the -scandal he urges the fact of his official presence at the execution of -Mary as the surest proof of the innocence of his relations with her. All -he asked of his posterity was that upon his death the date should be -added to the tomb. This they omitted to do. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - HEIR AND DOWAGER - - -A family circle made up of ingredients so pugnacious could scarcely be -expected to act unanimously when it came to a question of the division -of property after the Earl’s death. Instantly the fragments in the -Talbot kaleidoscope rearranged themselves. It was my Lady who now fought -practically single-handed, and the new Earl, Gilbert, and her own child -Mary were against her. They fought, as usual, in letters, and confided -largely in their friends. Gilbert and Mary in one of their previous -letters had called upon the Almighty “speedily to grant your Ladyship -all contentment with long life.” When this new family feud began they -must have regretted that wish. Had they foreseen that they had to -encounter her strong will and keen business instinct for the space of -another seventeen years they might possibly have compromised matters -more quickly. The fact is Gilbert and Mary were innately pugnacious. It -is written in their faces as they look down from the walls of the great -picture-gallery of Hardwick. Neither face is unrefined, both are shrewd, -and Mary’s, at any rate, has, added to a touch of scorn, a certain -humorous sparkle. Neither, however, possesses the dignity of the -parents. Mary has not her mother’s good features and innately -aristocratic air. Gilbert lacks the breadth and steadiness expressed by -the Earl. - -Gilbert had taken his place now as seventh Earl, received the usual -pompous letters of condolence from Lord Burghley and others, and was -duly admitted to the order of the Garter. His notions of earldom -expressed themselves chiefly in a gorgeous style of living which (in -Hunter’s opinion) “alone earned for him the title of the great and -glorious Earl of Shrewsbury,” irrespective of either intellectual or -official distinction. Naturally his wife with her “pomp and court-like -ways” was in full accord with him, and the renewal of the -“All-for-Money” family fray was inevitable. In addition to his strife -with the old Countess, he fought with Henry Talbot his younger brother, -with Lady Talbot the widow of his elder brother Francis, with his own -mother’s people the Manners family, with a prominent neighbour Sir -Richard Wortley of Wortley, and, as aforesaid, with the Stanhopes of -Nottinghamshire, to whom his wife despatched the violent message of -hatred quoted in a previous chapter. It stands to reason also that he -could not live at peace with his tenantry. As an ordinary man he does -not seem to have been mentally vigorous enough, as a man of the world -not sufficiently master of his hates and prejudices to come to an -understanding with them. It was, after all, the most difficult task of -his Lordship, and one for which his Court and town experiences had not -fitted him in the least. Most pitiful of all was his deadly feud with -his brother Edward. As Gilbert’s letters show, this arose entirely out -of the dissensions over property, though Edward and Henry, appointed as -executors of their father’s will, were wise enough to decline the task -and allow it to devolve on to the experienced shoulders of their -splendid stepmother. - -This feud between Edward and Gilbert flourished wickedly. There is no -need to bore the reader with the insertion of the pages of truculent -correspondence which ensued. Gilbert eventually challenged the other to -a duel, and Edward firmly declined to fight his own flesh and blood. -From the ancient chivalric standpoint this may look like a lack of -virility. But to fight would have been the height of unwisdom for two -young, well-born men, fathers of families, and in circumstances that -would have been wholly preposterous except for their absurd expenditure. -It is this very refusal of Edward Talbot which causes one to discount -the current story—set forth with the support of arguments, -probabilities, and reasons in the Harleian MSS.—to the intent that -Edward conspired, in Medici fashion, with Gilbert’s own physician, Dr. -Wood, against Gilbert’s life, the medium chosen for the murder being a -subtly poisoned pair of perfumed gloves. - -Thus it was as well for the whole family that my Lady came to the fore -again and wrestled with Gilbert, for he had flattery enough from some of -his friends to feed his vanity in his new position. The garrulous -Richard Topcliffe covered several pages in a letter expressing gladness -that it had pleased God to set the heir in the seat of his noble -ancestors. “At such an alteration of a house as now hath chanced by your -father’s death, there is ever great expecting towards the rising of the -sun.” It is an absurd, toadying letter, of which the only sincere part -is the writer’s definition of it at the close as “my tedious dream.” Of -such letters Gilbert received his share, like his father, and was -flooded with all sorts of other correspondence—official, semi-official, -and private. He assumes his father’s office in the lieutenancy of three -counties, issues his orders for armament. He meant excellently well no -doubt, but was not in the worldly sense a success. He could never, like -his father, have borne the Queen’s heavy burdens from sheer devotion to -a patriotic ideal and from horror of incurring her disfavour. His -disputes with his tenantry so overpowered him that he was forced to -refer the matter to the Queen. Her opinion was against him and on the -side of the tenants. Meanwhile the Stanhope quarrel became a regular -county affair, and, as Hunter puts it, “was pursued by both parties with -such precipitation and violence that it was rendered impossible for the -neighbouring gentry to preserve neutrality.” It is not surprising that -five years after his father’s death he was thoroughly out of favour. Yet -Elizabeth could be very kind to his children. One of her gentleman -ushers, his friend, Richard Brakenbury, writing from Court, sent him in -a letter to Rufford a pretty picture of the way she fondled his little -girl:— - - -“If I should write how much her Majesty this day did make of the little -lady your daughter, with often kissing (which her Majesty seldom useth -to any) and then amending her dressing with pins, and still carrying her -with her Majesty in her own barge, and so into the Privy Council -lodgings, and so homeward from the running, you would scarce believe me. -Her Majesty said (as true it is) that she is very like my Lady her -grandmother. She behaved herself with such modesty as I pray God she may -possess at twenty years old.” - - -Indirectly the magnificent Dowager could only be gratified by such -favours. Her main energies now were given to “pushing” Arabella in the -great world. Incidentally also it was her affair to go on building, -building, that she might live and flourish. Constructive imagination of -a certain kind she undoubtedly had. She loved grandeur, comfort, and -domestic beauty, and could conceive and plan their achievement. She was -led to her building by her sense of importance, coupled with the -praiseworthy desire to establish her offspring in a fine house, and so -increase their social advantages. That was the beginning, and her -practical imagination aided her. But rumour says that it is not by the -golden light of imagination that she was helped to expand and continue -her enterprises, but by the glare of morbid superstition. Some -soothsayer she met—history does not say at what period of her life—told -her that so long as she went on building she would never die. All -hard-headed as she was she has not escaped the imputation of credence in -fortune-telling, for she went on building to the end. Moreover, there is -the more excuse for her superstition, since, as we know, crystal-gazers -and conjurers with their charmed plates of gold, their phials and -symbols, came and went in the country and about the English and foreign -courts. It is more than possible that such persons, though included in -Shrewsbury’s roll of “practicers” and suspects, occasionally found their -way into my Lady’s parlour in Chatsworth or Hardwick. There is behind -this old soothsayer’s story a deeper meaning. She built that she might -exist, but in her building she truly lived, for in her strongly -constructive instinct all her higher faculties, in their finest, their -Aristotelian sense, found their outlet, while her heart realised a -certain happiness. - -By this time she was just seventy, and still in full vigour, though -tolerably scarred and embittered in heart and soul. Through Arabella and -her second son William, both of whom she really seems to have adored, -she had still a great hold upon life. It was her main business now to -fight old age, face her fourth widowhood resolutely, live in comfort, -and provide for those she loved or who were in any sense dependent on -her. - -Arabella cannot, of course, have had a particularly joyous or smooth -childhood under the sway of that keen, tempestuous temperament, but at -any rate she imbibed and inherited an enormous amount of vitality. She -was too young to be overcast by the pitiful, short-lived love story of -her parents, and her grandmother brought her up jealously and in an -atmosphere of state which helped to single her out from the other -grandchildren of the family and from the family circle. A letter from -the Countess, written when Arabella was but a baby, may be included -here:— - - - “_The Countess of Shrewsbury to Lord Burghley, respecting the - assignment of an Income to the Lady Arabella._ A.D. 1582.[85] - -“After my very hearty commendations to your good Lo. where it pleased -the Queen’s Majesty my most gracious Sovereign, upon my humble suit to -grant unto my late daughter Lennox four hundred pounds, and to that her -dear and only daughter Arbella two hundred pounds yearly for their -better maintenance, assigned out of part of the land of her inheritance: -whereof the four hundred pounds is now at her Majesty’s disposition by -the death of my daughter Lennox, whom it pleased God (I doubt not in -mercy for her good, but to my no small grief, in her best time) to take -out of this world, whom I cannot yet remember but with a sorrowful -troubled mind. I am now, my good L., to be an humble suitor to the -Queen’s Majesty that it may please her to confirm that grant of the -whole six hundred pounds yearly for the education of my dearest jewel -Arbella, wherein I assuredly trust to her Majesty’s most gracious -goodness, who never denied me any suit, but by her most bountiful and -gracious favours every way hath so much bound me as I can never think -myself able to discharge my duty in all faithful service to her Majesty. -I wish not to leave after I shall willingly fail in any part thereof to -the best of my power. And as I know your L. hath special care for the -ordering of her Majesty’s revenues and of her estate every way, so trust -I you will consider of the poor infant’s case, who under her Majesty is -to appeal only unto your Lo. for succour in all her distresses; who, I -trust, cannot dislike of this my suit on her behalf, considering the -charges incident to her bringing up. For although she were ever where -her mother was during her life, yet can I not now like she should be -here nor in any place else where I may not sometimes see her and daily -hear of her, and therefore charged with keeping house where she must be -with such as is fit for her standing, of whom I have special care, not -only such as a natural mother hath of her best beloved child, but much -more greater in respect how she is in blood to her Majesty: albeit one -of the poorest as depending wholly on her Majesty’s gracious bounty and -goodness, and being now upon seven years, and very apt to learn, and -able to conceive what shall be taught her. The charge will so increase -as I doubt not her Majesty will well conceive the six hundred pounds -yearly to be little enough, which as your Lo. knoweth is but so much in -money, for that the lands be in lease, and no further commodity to be -looked for during these few years of the child’s minority. All which I -trust your L. will consider and say to her Majesty what you think -thereof; and so most heartily wish your L. well to do. - -[Illustration: - - _From a photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, after the painting at - Hardwick Hall - By permission of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire_ - - ARABELLA STUART - - Page 330 -] - -“Sheffield this 6th day of May. - - “Your L. most assured loving friend, - “E. SHREWSBURY. - -“To the right honourable and my very good Lord the Lord Burghley, L. -Treasurer of England.” - - -To this Arabella, aged seven, adds her pretty French postscript:— - - -“Je prieray Dieu Monsr. vous donner en parfaicte en entiere santé, tout -heureux et bon succes, et seray tousjours preste a vous faire tout -honneur et service. - - “ARBELLA STEWARD.” - - -The new Hardwick, the present hall, was not actually finished till seven -years after the Earl’s death, and there and at the older house the -Dowager and the semi-royal grandchild spent many years together. The -former was, as has been instanced, busy betimes with making matches for -the child. After the disappointment about Lord Leicester’s little son, -the old ambitious spirit flares up gloriously in the proposal that -Arabella, who was just ten years old, should marry James of Scotland. -She was suggested by Walsingham, presumably at the Queen’s desire, as an -alternative bride to a Danish princess. James was not inclined to make -up his mind at the moment, and in the following year another bridegroom -was suggested—Rainutio, son of the Duke of Parma. Since the Duke was -suspected of laying claim to the English throne, these negotiations were -carried on secretly, not so secretly, however, that they escaped the -knowledge of Burghley. State papers show that he was well aware that a -servant of Sir Edward Stafford was employed “from beyond the sea, to -practise with” Arabella about this marriage. “He was sent once before -for her picture, and has been thrice to England this year,” is the -conclusion of the secret information sent to Court. It is likely that -the picture named might be a copy of one of the two hanging now in the -great gallery at Hardwick Hall. Both are deeply interesting, and one, in -which she is shown as a little, dignified, grandly dressed child of two -holding a gay stiff doll, is very moving. The other, of which the -original seems to be at Welbeck, shows her “in her hair,” in the old -phrase. Part of her hair is drawn over a puff above her forehead and -adorned with a drop jewel, and the rest hangs down fine and straight -like a soft veil behind her shoulders. Her dress is white, with sleeves -either of ermine or white velvet with black spots; her gold fan has a -dull red cord, and a girdle of jewels is about her waist. On either side -of her hangs a portrait of James VI as a little boy. In one he carries a -hawk—symbol of the passion for sport which seems to have been, save for -his obstinacy, his only strong point; in the other he is in correct -fashionable dress and plumed cap, and wears a tiny sword—symbol of the -courage he never possessed, and forerunner of the full-grown weapon -which he could carry with swagger, but dared not use on his mother’s -behalf. Even as his little presence hedges Arabella in this gallery on -both sides, so in life his position dominated hers most cruelly in years -to come. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, from the picture at Hardwick - Hall - By permission of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire_ - - ARABELLA STUART - - Page 332 -] - -The proposed marriage alluded to, which set abroad all manner of fears -of conspiracy in connection with Arabella in 1592, caused Lord Burghley -to write warnings to the Countess. All the old caution and authority -show in her reply:— - - - _The Countess of Shrewsbury to Lord Burghley: representing her care of - the Lady Arabella._[86] - - -“My honourable good Lord,—I received your Lordship’s letter on Wednesday -towards night, being the 20th of this September, by a servant of Mr. -John Talbott, of Ireland. My good Lord, I was at the first much troubled -to think that so wicked and mischievous practices should be devised to -entrap my poor Arbell and me, but I put my trust in the Almighty, and -will use such diligent care as I doubt not but to prevent whatsoever -shall be attempted by any wicked persons against the poor child. I am -most bound to her Majesty that it pleased her to appoint your Lordship -to give me knowledge of this wicked practice, and I humbly thank your -Lordship for advertising it: if any such like hereinafter be discovered -I pray your Lordship I may be forewarned. I will not have any unknown or -suspected person to come to my house. Upon the least suspicion that may -happen here, anyway, I shall give advertisement to your Lordship. I have -little resort to me: my house is furnished with sufficient company: -Arbell walks not late, at such time as she shall take the air, it shall -be near the house, and well attended on: she goeth not to anybody’s -house at all: I see her almost every hour in the day: she lieth in my -bedchamber. If I can be more precise than I have been I will be. I am -bound in nature to be careful for Arbell: I find her loving and dutiful -to me, yet her own good and safety is not dearer to me, nor more by me -regarded than to accomplish her Majesty’s pleasure, and that which I -think may be for her service. I would rather wish many deaths than to -see this or any such like wicked attempt to prevail. - -“About a year since, there was one Harrison, a seminary, that lay at his -brother’s house about a mile from Hardwick, whom I thought then to have -caused to be apprehended, and to have sent him up; but found he had -licence for a time. Notwithstanding, the seminary, soon after, went from -his brother’s, finding how much I was discontented with his lying so -near me. Since my coming now into the country, I had some intelligence -that the same seminary was come again to his brother’s house: my son -William Cavendish went thither of a sudden to make search for him, but -could not find him. I write this much to your Lordship that if any such -traitorous and naughty persons (through her Majesty’s clemency) be -suffered to go abroad, that they may not harbour near my houses -Wingfield, Hardwick, or Chatsworth in Derbyshire: they are the most -likely instruments to put a bad matter in execution. - -“One Morley, who hath attended on Arbell, and read to her for the space -of three years and a half, showed to be much discontented since my -return into the country, in saying he had lived in hope to have some -annuity granted him by Arbell out of her lands during his life, or some -lease of grounds to the value of forty pounds a year, alleging that he -was so much damaged by leaving the University, and now saw that if she -were willing, yet not of ability, to make him any such assurance. I -understanding by divers that Morley was so much discontented, and withal -of late having some cause to be doubtful of his forwardness in religion -(though I cannot charge him with papistry), took occasion to part with -him. After he was gone from my house, and all his stuff carried from -hence, the next day he returned again, very importunate to serve without -standing upon any recompense, which made me more suspicious, and the -more willing to part with him. I have no other in my house who will -supply Morley’s place very well for the time. I will have those that -shall be sufficient in learning, honest, and well disposed so near as I -can. - -“I am forced to use the hand of my son William Cavendish, not being able -to write so much myself for fear of bringing great pain to my head. He -only is privy to your Lordship’s letter, and neither Arbell nor any -other living, nor shall be. - -“I beseech your Lordship I may be directed from you as occasion shall -fall out. To the uttermost of my understanding, I have and will be -careful. I beseech the Almighty to send your Lordship a long and happy -life, and so I will commit your Lordship to His protection. From my -house at Hardwick the 21st of September, 1592. - - “Your Lordship’s as I am bound, - “E. SHREWSBURY.” - - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - THE PICTURE GALLERY FROM THE NORTH, HARDWICK HALL - - Page 336 -] - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - ARABELLA DANCES INTO COURT - - -The death of Mary Queen of Scots was the signal for the Countess to -insure that Arabella should be as near the Court as possible. She was -kept hard at her lessons, but, though the various members of the family -were at variance over property, the Dowager was far too wise to spoil -the girl’s prospects by forbidding her intercourse with her “Court-like” -aunt, Gilbert’s Mary. As regards the young Shrewsbury pair she was, of -course, at once a possible stumbling-block and a possible stepping-stone -to their advantage. Her parentage gave her social precedence, and though -her present worldly status was not very great, she might at any time, by -an important marriage, assume a position far above them and be regarded -as a source of Court favours. In fact, both sides of the complicated -family co-operated to help her on in the world. - -Already at the age of thirteen she was introduced to the Court. Her -young uncle, Sir Charles Cavendish, writes of it with great -appreciation: “My Lady Arbell, has been once to Court. Her Majesty spoke -twice to her ... she dined in the presence, but my Lord Treasurer had -her to supper; and at dinner, I dining with her, and sitting over -against him, he asked me whether I came with my niece. I said I came -with her: then he spake openly, and directed his speech to Sir Walter -Rawley, greatly in her recommendation, as that she had the French, the -Italian, played of instruments, dances, and writ very fair; wished she -were fifteen years old, and with that rounded Mr. Rawley in the ear, who -answered it would be a happy thing.... My Lady Arbelle and the rest are -very well, and it is wonderful how she profiteth in her book, and -believe she will dance with exceeding good grace, and can behave herself -with great proportion to everyone in their degree.”[87] - -Old Lady Shrewsbury worked hard for Arabella and played for Elizabeth’s -favour now more than ever, with a keen hope of seeing the girl named as -her Majesty’s successor. James of Scotland was, of course, playing a -similar game, and while he pressed the Queen in regard to the -succession, up to the point of making her angry, he kept on good terms -with Arabella, to whom he wrote now and then an affectionate, cousinly -letter. His tactics were practical, for he now proposed as her -bridegroom Esmé Stuart, a piece of diplomacy on which, under the -magnificent guise of her restoration to her own title of Lennox, he must -have prided himself enormously. This offer was declined; a shortsighted -refusal, as it proved both in the future and in the present, for matters -in regard to Elizabeth’s favour did not prosper. Old age and bitterness -made her resentful and increased her hydra-headed suspicion. It was -always so easy for any ill-minded person to raise a papistical scare and -accuse Arabella—whose aunt, the young Countess, was notoriously in -favour of the proscribed priesthood—as being the heart and soul of every -such plot. - -Yet the Dowager Countess still laboured on. We find Arabella sending the -Queen a “rare New Year gift,” to which her Majesty’s return was -acknowledged by a confidential correspondent as a very poor one. The -Queen, however, in discussion with the writer announced her intention to -be kind and promised to be “very careful of Arabella.” Again this was a -case of “Words, words!” - -It was in 1592 that Arabella refused Esmé Stuart. In 1596 no less a -person than the French King discussed her as a possible bride for the -Dauphin. Meanwhile she, who was in no sense an _intrigante_, and seems -to have inherited all the simplicity of her mother, with the energy and -the _joie de vivre_ of her grandmother, was in no way concerned in the -wretched schemes attributed to her by wild gossip. She was more desirous -of love and companionship than of place and glory, and of a decent -competence than the splendour of courts. In her twenty-eighth year -(1603) she attempted to make her own choice. It was a curious one as -regards discrepancy in age. She sought to betroth herself to a boy -fifteen years old, young William Seymour. This was no less than the -grandson of that same unhappy Earl Hertford who had wedded poor Lady -Catherine Grey. The whole affair would be puzzling if it were not for -the fact that Arabella’s thoughts were turned in this direction by the -fact that he, like herself, was partly of royal blood. At the same time, -he was not hampered by the possession of a crown, and with all the -attendant difficulties and dangers of a royal marriage. The matter did -not go very far, for the bare suggestion of such a thing aroused the -most absurd excitement in the Queen’s mind. Arabella was at once -arrested. - -Elizabeth, it will be remembered, was already dying by inches in the -cold spring of 1603. The accusation that Arabella’s action killed her -has no ground whatsoever; but it was an unfortunate moment to incur -royal displeasure. Naturally when the question of succession came up -finally and Elizabeth was asked if she could contemplate young William -Seymour’s father, Lord Beauchamp, as her heir, the old irritation -against the Hertford marriage flared up in that memorable dying retort -of hers: “I will have no rascal’s son in my place.” - -Bitterly indeed must Bess Shrewsbury have raved at Hardwick against the -unjust fate which caused the fortunes of her “juwell” to decline so -miserably at this critical moment. The succession of James was thereby -assured, and when it became fact was a bitter pill for Talbot and -Cavendish to swallow. By this time the good Burghley was dead, and his -son, Sir Robert Cecil, undertook to mediate for Arabella with James. She -was for the moment removed to polite imprisonment in the country, whence -she wrote breezy and innocent letters to her family, notably to her -step-uncle, Edward Talbot, in which she disclaims her guilt in a -somewhat veiled and fantastic manner. “Noble gentleman,” runs one -sentence, “I am as unjustly accused of contriving a comedy as you in my -conscience a tragedy.” - -While she awaited the King’s pleasure James was making his first royal -progress, and Gilbert Shrewsbury had the honour of entertaining him -magnificently at Worksop Manor, which must have made the Dowager -fearfully jealous. Cecil set to work as soon as possible on his -protégée’s behalf, and, seeing that she presented no problem of -political danger, eventually procured her liberty—that is, with certain -reservations. He undertook that she should reside with the Marchioness -of Northampton at Sheen. - -[Illustration: - - _From an engraving by Walker, after a drawing by Malton_ - - WELBECK ABBEY - - Page 340 -] - -All this while the Countess Dowager kept well in the background. -Arabella, she knew, was of an age to manage her own affairs, and could -deal shrewdly and promptly with Cecil in regard to her maintenance by -the King in her right as one of royal blood. She managed this difficult -situation so well that she was presently taken into the bosom of the -Court. This happy event was gracefully achieved thus. The arrival in -England of the Queen-Consort some months after her husband was the cause -for further display on the part of both Cavendishes and Talbots. Bess -Shrewsbury planned a great reception for Anne of Denmark at Chatsworth, -and tendered the invitation through Arabella. It was declined, and it -has been suggested that the royal motive for this was the unhappy -association of the great hostess with the mother of James. Though the -mere fact of the Countess’s former position of assistant-gaoler may not -have sufficed, memories of strife and “scandilation” would certainly -stick in the memory of those who surrounded James, and their advice -could scarcely favour the invitation. Arabella was, however, authorised -to go to Welbeck to assist her uncle, Sir Charles Cavendish, to receive -Anne. At the same time she was to be introduced to the young Princess, -to whom she was appointed State governess. Earl Gilbert’s house was once -more honoured, and his wife and he incited to impoverish themselves anew -for their second magnificent royal entertainment in the year of the -accession. - -At Welbeck Sir Charles Cavendish vied with his half-brother and -contrived an elaborate sylvan pageant in which Arabella figured as -Diana. Poor Diana! At twenty-seven she could personate with zest the -chaste, invincible, tireless goddess. Could she have foreseen that rôle -assigned to her for life by the criminal selfishness of James, she would -have forsworn all courts in that hour, and preferred the groves in which -she and William Seymour would willingly have walked in years to come, -hand in hand, poor and happy. - -So—as in Elizabeth’s day—the girl, spirited, cultured, good, and -warm-hearted, danced herself into the heart of Queen Anne, and above all -into that of the young Elizabeth, whom she charmed instantly. Away went -Arabella now to Court in the new Queen’s train, and thenceforward -appeared constantly in the company of her clever, tart, intriguing -Shrewsbury aunt. Her uncle Gilbert kept a steady eye on her. For she was -lively, brilliant; not beautiful, but of great magnetic attraction. -Withal, she was quick of tongue, and he feared lest she should slip into -indiscretion of speech and give advantage to back-biters at Court. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - THE DINING-ROOM, HARDWICK HALL - - Page 342 -] - -She escaped at least one danger this autumn—infection from the plague. -In spite of all her duties and dangers she was in close touch with her -relatives. Naturally there were difficult moments. Now she displeases -her tremendous grandmother, and now her pugnacious aunt. Again and again -she tries to act as go-between, and at odd times secures favours for one -or the other—a barony for William Cavendish, a bride for his son. At -intervals she visited her grandmother, but generally with a view to -making peace between Gilbert and the hostess of Hardwick. To him she -wrote in a very touching manner after a visit to the old lady: “I found -so good hope of my grandmother’s good inclination to a good and -reasonable reconciliation betwixt herself and her divided family that I -could not forbear to impart to your Lordship with all speed. Therefore I -beseech you, put on such a Christian and honourable mind as becometh you -to bear to a lady so near to you and yours as my grandmother is. And -think you cannot devise to do me greater honour and contentment than to -let me be the only mediator, moderator, and peacemaker betwixt you and -her. You know I have cause only to be partial on your side, so many -kindnesses and favours I have received from you, and so many -unkindnesses and disgraces have I received from the other party. Yet -will I not be restrained from chiding you (as great a lord as you are) -if I find you either not willing to be asken to this good notion or to -proceed in it as I shall think reasonably.... If I be not sufficient for -this treaty never think me such as can add strength and honour to your -family.” - -Such matters were hard for both sides, and one’s sympathy inclines to -the ageing, fighting, building Dowager. “Your unkindness sticks sore in -her teeth,” wrote one of Gilbert’s informants. To Gilbert, however, she -managed to maintain a proud front, and busied herself about a fresh -building enterprise. - -This project was partly the outcome of her extraordinary pugnacity. Her -neighbour, Sir Francis Leake, had designed and was building in the -county a fine house, Sutton, which rivalled Hardwick in magnificence. -Invidious comparisons were evidently drawn, and she declared scornfully -that she would build as good a house “for owls” as he for men. The -mansion she built was therefore called Owlcotes, and was not far from -Hardwick. - -The first year of Arabella’s royal post was certainly one fraught with -peril, for it closed with the trial of Sir Walter Raleigh, accused, as -all will remember, of plotting to dethrone James in favour of Arabella. -Even Henry Cavendish was suspected of complicity. It is not necessary -here to go into the details which proved Arabella’s innocence. It was -quickly proved and her Court life went on as before, gaily, with -masques, drawing-rooms, ballets, and even the nursery games in which it -pleased the ladies of the Danish Anne to indulge. - -At the close of her second year at Court (1605) another proposal, this -time from the King of Poland, reached Arabella and was refused. She does -not yet seem to have tired of the frivolous and exhausting life, though -her letters—whimsical, affectionate, quaintly sententious, often highly -graphic—are shortened at times, and, though loyal, she complains roundly -of “this everlasting hunting.” For in their passion for sport King and -Queen dragged their courtiers hither and thither, and the latter were -often miserably housed and served during these expeditions. - -[Illustration: - - _From a photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, after the painting at - Hardwick Hall - By permission of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire_ - - JAMES THE FIFTH OF SCOTLAND - - Page 344 -] - -The Dowager at Hardwick was well informed of Court affairs, for she paid -a handsome retaining fee to no less a person than the Dean of the Chapel -Royal in order that he should keep her well posted. In this year (1605) -she was taken seriously ill and summoned Arabella. The girl was -evidently afraid of her, for she took precautions to insure welcome in -the shape of a letter from the King himself, desiring the Countess to -receive her granddaughter with kindness and bounty. This incensed the -old lady a good deal. Though she was now more or less like a sleeping -dragon guarding her hoard, as in the Norse legend, she could still rouse -herself to snarl in a letter. She did not write to the King direct, but -devised an epistle to the Dean, in which she emphatically declared her -astonishment at the royal message. This he was ordered to show to the -King. “It was very strange to her,” she said, “that my Lady Arabella -should come to her with a recommendation as either doubting of her -entertainment or desiring to come to her from whom she had desired so -earnestly to come away. That for her part she thought she had -sufficiently expressed her good meaning and kindness to her that had -purchased her seven hundred pounds by year land of inheritance, and -given her as much money as would buy a hundred pound by year more. And -though for her part she had done very well for her according to her poor -ability, yet she should always be welcome to her, though she had divers -grandchildren that stood more in need than she, and much the more -welcome in respect of the King’s recommendation; she had bestowed on -Arabella a cup of gold worth a hundred pound, and three hundred pound in -money which deserved thankfulness very well, considering her poor -ability.” - -James could afford to laugh at such a communication, which fortunately -did not prejudice Arabella in his eyes. Her return to Court was not long -delayed, for her grandmother recovered, and the Court lady was once more -free to stand godmother to royal babies, play, hunt, and dance, and -suffer perpetual financial embarrassment owing to the ridiculous -expenditure to which courtiers of both sexes were put in making royal -gifts and providing the costly, fantastic costumes which the successive -masques entailed. - -It was during the production of the famous “Masque of Beauty,” written -for _Twelfth Night_, and produced in honour of the visit of the King of -Denmark, that Bess Shrewsbury sank into her last illness. For this -masque Arabella, it is recorded, appeared in jewels and robes worth more -than £100,000. From such scenes of colour and luxuriance she was called -to that stately, lonely deathbed at Hardwick. - -Of the Countess’s danger her relatives were fully aware, and the various -family partisans took good care to be on the look-out for any hostile -movements with regard to property from their opponents. The following -extract from one of Gilbert’s letters to Henry Cavendish gives an ugly -little picture of the situation. The date is January 4th, 1607:— - - -“When I was at Hardwick she did eat very little, and not able to walk -the length of the chamber betwixt two, but grew so ill at it as you -might plainly discern it. On New Year’s Eve, when my wife sent her New -Year’s gift, the messenger told us she looked pretty well and spoke -heartily; but my Lady wrote that she was worse than when we last saw -her, and Mrs. Digby sent a secret message that her Ladyship was so ill -that she could not be from her day nor night. I heard that direction is -given to some at Wortley to be in readiness to drive away all the sheep -and cattle at Ewden instantly upon her Ladyship’s death. - -“These being the reasons that move me thus to advise you, consider how -like it is that when she is thought to be in danger your good brother -will think it time to work with you to that effect, and—God forgive me -if I judge amiss—I verily think that, till of late, he hath been in some -hope to have seen your end before hers, by reason of your sickliness and -discontentment of mind. To conclude, I wish and advise you to take no -hold of any offer that shall be made unto you, etc. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - TOMB OF ELIZABETH COUNTESS OF SHREWSBURY - - Page 346 -] - -“You have not been forgot to my Lady, neither for yourself nor for -Chatsworth, but we have forborne to write you thereof, knowing that one -of your brother’s principallest means to keep us all so divided one from -another, etc.” - - -“Your good brother” is certainly William Cavendish, of whom the whole -family were wildly jealous, and who planned to seize certain cattle -belonging to the Countess, in advance of his brothers, so soon as she -had drawn her last breath. - -Very few details are extant of the death of the great Bess. Grateful -pensioners she had, and certainly some devoted servants. Her intimate -friends were few, and nearly all her contemporaries predeceased her. We -come across nothing more interesting as a bare record of her death than -the following entry in Simpson’s _National Records of Derby_ for 1607:— - - -“The old Countess of Shrewsbury died about Candlemas this year, whose -funeral was about Holy Thursday. A great frost this year. The witches of -Bakewell hanged.” - - -So into limbo this contemptuous entry dismisses a great lady. Pouf! Out -with the candles! The frost is over; some women have been hung at -Bakewell; an old lady is dead. - -To the end she never ceased her doughty and defiant game with stone, -wood, and mortar. While her “home for owls” was in erection there came -that same “great frost” named in the old Derby chronicle. Naturally the -mortar at “Owlcotes” froze. The masons could do nothing. Instantly she -issued orders that it was to be thawed with boiling water. This was -unavailing, and the order came to use ale also, in the hope that the -thicker fluid might prevent crystallisation. About this there is the -true Elizabethan touch. But even ale, poured out like water, failed, and -my Lady went out—with the holy candles. - -How Arabella—faithful, loyal, vital, intense—danced, toiled, and -loved—to her doom; how energetic, ambitious Mary Shrewsbury, like her -mother before her, enjoyed imprisonment in the Tower because of her -match-making intrigues; how William Cavendish became not only an earl, -but one of the first colonists in Virginia and Bermuda; how Henry -Cavendish died of his “sickliness and discontentment of mind”; how Henry -Talbot, also, passed away before he could share the splendour or the -thriftlessness of his race; how Charles Cavendish made Bolsover Castle a -fit guesthouse for the King, for whom his son prepared a famous masque -and banquet; how Gilbert Shrewsbury, his presence-chamber crowded with -spongers and creditors, pawned his plate and jewels, and how his younger -brother and chief enemy, Edward Talbot, became eighth Earl in his stead, -belong to an epoch which escapes the limit of this survey. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - ENTRANCE HALL, HARDWICK HALL - - Page 348 -] - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - MY LADY’S MANSIONS - - -It is universally conceded by our nation that the French have a sense of -the theatre which we shall never possess. The only set-off we can -produce is a pre-eminent “sense of the house.” In France this has to a -great extent died out. In French and in most continental cities the -greater number of people live like pigeons in large cotes. It is the -tendency of all towns, though in England the notion takes hold slowly. -In the country the sense of the house is as strong as ever, with this -change—that it is the day of the little house. Of the great house in its -perfect sense as a home there are but few happy instances. It is the day -of little things—little books, little songs, little pictures, little -buildings, little frequent journeys, little incomes, and little sports. -Above all, the little incomes! Little incomes laugh defiance at great -houses. For great houses, as aforesaid, are great thieves. Bess and her -Lord knew it, in the end, to their sorrow. Slowly English men and women -have come to realise this, and not to aspire enviously to great houses. -That notion was long a-dying, that obsession of the great house. Its -long decline meant assuredly much that was tragic, wounding, -self-torturing. Oh! those mistaken, ostentatious shams and pomposities -of the early Victorian days when many a kindly, highly cultured, -hypersensitive group of persons dwelt the lives of immured cabbages! And -all this because of false pride, because of a penury they deliberately -huddled round them, like a coward, who flings his cloak over his head so -that he may not see even the opportunity for the courage which must go -to the changed order of things. - -And so the little incomes of to-day—the day of the triumph of the -exploitation of limited resources—laugh at the great houses because the -first have been forced to learn that trick of defiance side by side with -the bitter lesson of monetary limitations which they share with the -last. Yet behind their defiance is a great admiration of the big -mansions. And behind the admiration, if they but guessed it, a great -sense of indebtedness. For it is the little incomes, and not the little -houses, which laugh at great mansions. Is it not by virtue of the past -life and compassion of the great houses that the little ones achieve -their beauty in miniature, and, lastly, their sweet appropriateness to -the usages of modern life? The great house begat these little ones of -to-day—no hovels, but decent homes—which spring up all over England and -Scotland and Ireland—in the hollows or heights of downs, in richly -watered places, on ridges, by the fringes of woods, upon the sea -flank—creeping up almost impudently to the very skirts of the great -“places” which have passed into the traditions of history. Some of these -remain to us as dazzling show places, some few are also emphatically -homes. Whether applied in the present to this most beautiful and -intimate purpose or not, all the great mansions of Elizabeth Lady -Shrewsbury were most truly intended for sweet daily uses. Two principal -houses had she of her own—Hardwick and Chatsworth. Eight more George -Talbot brought her—Wingfield, Sheffield, Rufford, Welbeck, Worksop, -Tutbury, Bolsover. One smaller place he cherished for his old age, a -little country house at Handsworth in the same county, and one more, as -already explained, she in her old age founded—Owlcotes or -Oldcotes—besides beginning the rebuilding of Bolsover Castle. Great -houses indeed! Four of them, in especial, were widely sung and praised. -How runs the curious old rhyme? - - “Hardwicke for hugeness, Worsope for height, - Welbecke for use, and Bolser for sighte. - Worsope for walks, Hardwicke for hall, - Welbecke for brewhouse, Bolser for all. - Welbecke a parish, Hardwicke a Court, - Worsope a pallas, Bolser a fort. - Bolser to feast in, Welbecke to ride in, - Hardwicke to thrive in, and Worsope to bide in. - Hardwicke good house, Welbecke good keepinge, - Worsope good walkes, Bolser good sleepinge. - Bolser new built, Welbecke well mended, - Hardwicke concealed, and Worsope extended. - Bolser is morn, and Welbecke day bright, - Hardwicke high noone, Worsope good night; - Hardwicke is now, and Welbecke will last, - Bolser will be and Worsope is past. - Welbecke a wife, Bolser a maide, - Hardwicke a matron, Worsope decaide. - Worsope is wise, Welbecke is wittie, - Hardwicke is hard, Bolser is prettie. - Hardwicke is riche, Welbecke is fine, - Worsope is stately, Bolser divine. - Hardwicke a chest, Welbecke a saddle, - Worsope a throne, Bolser a cradle. - Hardwicke resembles Hampton Court much, - And Worsope, Welbecke, Bolser none such.[88] - Worsope a duke, Hardwicke an earl, - Welbecke a viscount, Bolser a pearl. - The rest are jewels of the sheere - Bolser pendant of the eare. - Yet an old abbey hard by the way— - Rufford—gives more alms than all they.” - -It is curious that Chatsworth, so famous in history, has no part in the -rhyme. Save for an old engraving of it in the new, the present -Chatsworth, no trace of the fabric of the second mansion, the house -planned by William Cavendish the first, exists; and in the grounds no -relic is to be found belonging to the date of Queen Mary’s imprisonment -except a scrap of ivied ruin known as her “bower.” - -What is the fate of the rest of the long list? Wingfield is an exquisite -ruined fragment. The relic of that which was once Sheffield Castle is -only to be found thickly embedded among the workshops and factories of a -great smoke-belching town; and the whole property has passed to the -dukedom of Norfolk. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - BOLSOVER CASTLE - - Page 352 -] - -Oldcotes, as we know, Bess Hardwick never finished, nor Bolsover, for -that last duty fell upon her son, Sir Charles Cavendish, who “cleared -away the loose cement and tottering stones and began to lay the -foundation of the newe house at Bolsover,” only finished by his son, -Marquis of Newcastle. Strangely enough, it is not this—the beautiful -Elizabethan mansion, which witnessed now glorious pageants and now civil -war—that remains for habitation, but a portion of the original -stronghold. Says one descriptive writer: “The figure of Hercules, -supporting the balcony over the principal doorway, is an appropriate -symbol of the Castle’s strength. The fortress is habitable, and makes a -very unconventional and picturesque residence, with its pillar parlour -ornamented with old-fashioned devices; its noble Star Chamber lined with -sombre portraits of the twelve Cæsars and ceilinged with blue and gold -to represent the firmament at night; and its quaint bed-chambers, two of -which are covered with pictures indicative of Heaven and Hades ... -pictures ... of angels reclining on clouds, or wandering in delightful -glades; and of angels of darkness, hideous ... and writhing in torment.” -The which, says this chronicler, so affected the conscience of one -inhabitant that he effaced them—“took a lime brush and ruthlessly wiped -out both sinners and saints.” The ruin near this building must have -stood finely “on the grand terrace to the south” in its heyday when the -elasticity of good Bolsover steel spears and buckles was a household -word in England. - -Tutbury Castle lies a ruin by the Dove, unregretted, well detested by -all who were ever immured there. - -Welbeck—how true to the rhyme!—lasts and “will last”—“day bright,” a -“saddle,” a place to “ride in,” a great “parish,” a home for use, for -“good keepinge,”—in a word, an institution for posterity to wonder at. -Such also is Rufford, one of the few great buildings which have escaped -fire. Among the list of the disestablished monasteries it passed into -the hands of the Talbots, who made good use of its Elizabethan gallery -and its state chambers. On the other hand, the original manor house of -Worksop—“the wise,” the “pallas,” the “throne,” was burnt down in 1761, -was “decaide” very soon. Bolser the “maid” as aforesaid is now grown -very grey, but is still lovely, the more wonderful in its isolation -because of the ugly little new town below it. Welbeck “the wife” -flourishes, has grown, is much increased. - -Hardwick the “matron” endures. In her “hugeness,” in her character of -spacious court and hall, in her seclusion and peace, her well-being, her -riches and comfort, well warmed with the sun of prosperity, as at “high -noone”—in her rôle as “chest,” as storehouse of unassailable fortunes, -as a place “to thrive in,” Hardwick is the chiefest of all these houses, -because, saving the church of All Saints at Derby, with the monument -Bess Shrewsbury erected in it to herself, and the almshouses in the same -town, it is the only thing of all her “workes” upon which her sole -impress remains. Into this grey stone house, which bears her maiden -name, has passed her extraordinary and very fine “sense of the home,” -and the doggerel just quoted adds to that almost a portrait of herself. -Time was when she wore stiff outstanding dresses, encrusted with network -of jewels or bordered and lined with fur, like others who visited Court -or the weddings and pageants of her circle. In the principal portrait of -her, the one which hangs in the centre of the Cavendish group in the -glorious Hardwick gallery—a stretch of 170 feet, of which the walls -carry nearly two hundred portraits—she is, however, presented just in -the character of matron and widow. Her child-bearing days were over, her -schemes were many. One cannot read the rhymes quoted without feeling -that when Hardwick is named in the jingle she herself passes in and out -of the string of words, which in itself is like a ladies’ chain in a -country dance. She is in black velvet with a rich quadruple necklace of -pearls. Her chest, with gold and documents and household “stuff,” goes -with her; we hear the jingle of her household keys, her ringing, -authoritative voice, meet the glance of those clear, keen eyes, and -follow the line of the thin, sensitive mouth, which could help that -far-seeing brain of hers so much. That mouth could flatter, but it could -also speak with terrible sharpness; it could repeat a good joke, a spicy -scandal, or quiver with grief; it could say tender things—“my juwell and -love, my dearest harte”—and it could bargain finely. “Hardwick is hard,” -says the rhyme, and her lips seem to tighten to that phrase. She could -certainly be both terribly hard and tender. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - PICTURE GALLERY, HARDWICK HALL - - (Showing the fireplace and a portrait of Mary Queen of Scots) - - Page 354 -] - -There is another smaller portrait of her, in her Countess’s coronet and -an ermine tippet, which is rather more gracious in expression than the -stiff, beruffed, matronly picture above mentioned. Close about her are -her husbands—all save Barlow. Most comfortable of these is Sir William -Cavendish, sturdy, bearded, and well-liking, in his furred robe and flat -cap. Close by, and matching the figure of Arabella Stuart in sheer -pathos, is that of the quiet, childless Grace Talbot, whom Fate so soon -made the widow of the much-travelled Henry Cavendish. It is that of a -dumpy little woman in black, holding in one hand a single pale -eglantine—the flower of the Cavendishes. Her reddish-brown hair, her -pale lips, a spinet of which the under portion of the open lid is -faintly decorated with red-winged cherubs, and a dark green table-cloth, -are the only scraps of colour in the sombre scheme. Her psalter, with -diamond notation, lies open at the words “Sois moy seigneur ma garde et -mon appuy, Car en toy gist toute mon esperance.” - -In the same group one finds Burghley, rosy, astute, richly clad, a -prince of dignitaries, than whom no statesman ever had richer experience -of men and things, of power and place, of sovereigns and the royal -caprice, who on the eve of death could still write to his first-born, -over the trembling signature of “Your anguished father,” the words -“Serve God by serving of the Queen, for all other service is indeed -bondage to the devil.” - -Very warm and full of life is the portrait of William Cavendish the -younger, the Countess’s favourite son. To him in his right as first Earl -and ancestor of the Dukes of Devonshire belongs, after his mother, the -whole of this glorious gallery, typical of this magnificent house. - -[Illustration: - - _From a photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, after the picture by P. - Oudry - at Hardwick Hall, by permission of his Grace the Duke of - Devonshire_ - - MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS - - Page 356 -] - -The end wall is given up to the portraits of the three English Queens. -In the centre is Elizabeth, magnificent and monstrous, the clothes -hiding the woman, the whole art of portraiture merged in the painter’s -dogged intent to reproduce every detail of her jewels, her lace, and the -birds, beasts, and reptiles with which her enormous, billowing dress is -embroidered. On her right stands Queen Anne, very dull, complacent, and -richly attired; on her left Queen Mary, solemn, handsomely robed, -dignified. An opposite wall bears the other often-painted Mary, the -Arch-Enigma, she whose personality, to my thinking, is so much more -subtle and dominant than that of her magnificent English sisters. This -is the famous Mary of Oudry’s brush, graceful, simple, subtle, the face -diaphanous and elusive. There is an odd likeness between the motto she -chose for her dais and that which the baby Arabella bears on the jewel -pendent from her necklace: “Pour parvenir j’endure” is the legend. And -both women bear witness to that determination in their faces, in their -tragic fates. That and the old “En ma fin est mon commencement” ring in -your ears as you turn from the gallery and from the beautiful -presence-chamber with its wonderful coloured plaster frieze to the -little bedroom dedicated to the relics of the Scots Mary. The curtains -she embroidered, the coverings for the chairs, the tapestry, the very -bed in which she slept and tossed and wept, are all proudly cherished. -Mary never stayed at Hardwick, _pace_ Horace Walpole, nor possibly ever -saw it. Nor was she ever housed at the old Hardwick, which stands now -like a ghostly, ruined parent of the newer building, at right angles to -it. The old house served “Building Bess” not only as model for her new -hall, but furnished her, it is said, with actual material. It was, for -those days, a good model that she took, and its high and countless -windows made it hygienically a great improvement upon the gloom of -Tutbury and Sheffield. No trace of superstition or pettiness has gone to -the building, begun soon after she acquired the house—either by purchase -or by legacy from her brother James Hardwick—some years before the death -of her fourth husband, and completed seven years or so after it—that is -in 1597. At first, says tradition, she seems to have intended to make -her home at the older house and reserve the new one for ceremonial and -entertainment, “as if she had a mind to preserve her Cradle and set it -by her Bed of State.” The stones of that “Cradle” she eventually took -for the “Bed,” and into that bed she literally wove all that was best of -herself. Of mere personal feminine vanity she expresses little, of -personal importance much. She was fond of her crest, and the modelled -stags of her own family are devised to flatter her duly in an -inscription (in the great drawing-room) to the intent that noble as is -the stag, in all its animal perfection, its nobility is enhanced by -bearing the arms of the Countess. She doted also on her initials. They -are worked into the stone scrolling which adorns her four towers, into -the main gateway, and into the low wall which flanks the square garden -where you enter. They are repeated in the flower-beds. She must have -loved signing her name also, for scarcely a scrap, it seems, of the -household accounts concerning her buildings exists but bears evidence of -her minute scrutiny. Here is her signature as it appears often repeated -under such items as “thre ponde hyght pence,” or at the close of a -letter thus:— - -[Illustration] - -The Hardwick wages-book between New Year, 1576, and the close of -December, 1580, with the list of her men—stone-breakers, gardeners, -moss-gatherers, thatchers, wall-builders, ditchers—was made up by her -once a fortnight and signed. Inside the house too are her initials, with -the arms of her father, the stags and the roses of the Hardwicks, and -into a famous inlaid table (brought, it is said, by her son Henry from -the East) is woven the cryptic poetical motto of her father’s family:— - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS BED, NOW AT HARDWICK HALL - - Page 358 -] - - “The redolent smell of aeglantyne - We stagges exault to the deveyne.” - -This legend is to be faintly traced in the interior of the ruined old -hall. With the exception of the Shrewsbury coronet and the initials, you -find very little suggestion of the Talbots. Everywhere the arms of -Hardwick predominate in panel, fireplace, and lock. They strike the eye -the instant you enter the house by the great entrance-hall. Large and -magnificent, they are set forth on the right wall: in heraldic language, -“a saltire engrailed _azure_; on a chief of the second three cinquefoils -of the field,” set in a lozenge-shaped shield and bearing the aforesaid -coronet. The supporters are two “stags _proper_, each gorged with a -chaplet of roses, _argent_, between two bars _azure_.” To these -supporters the lady had no right because her family had none. But she -assumed them, turning to account the stag of her family crest. Her son -William adopted a variation of this, and in the Devonshire arms of -to-day we again find the wreathed stags _proper_, while the shield bears -three harts’ heads. In the Mary Queen of Scots bedroom you will find in -plaster work again the Hardwick arms, but also those of Cavendish and of -the Countess’s mother, Elizabeth Leake. Needless to say, the house is -built in the grand manner. The great entrance-hall runs to the height of -two stories, and besides its panelling and old furniture has screens of -tapestry. Just off the stairway on the left is the curious little chapel -shut off from the landing by an open-work oak screen. Close by is a -state bedroom, and adjoining it is a fine dining-room, whence a -minstrels’ gallery leads to the wainscoted and tapestried drawing-room. -The splendid presence-chamber, sixty-five feet long, thirty-three wide, -and twenty-six high, is another remarkable feature, and besides its -pictures and tapestry has the famous ancient frieze, already mentioned, -in coloured plaster relief representing the Court of Diana. The choice -of theme was, no doubt, out of compliment to the Queen, for her initials -and arms are in this room substituted for those of the Countess, who, in -spite of her dreams, never had the delight of receiving Elizabeth here. - -In regard to the sheer details of furniture and tapestries the -guide-books have sufficiently noted such items, and this is not the -place for an inventory. But in the household lists, carefully catalogued -and cherished, are noted “silver cloath of tissue and cloath of gold, -velvet of sundry colours, needlework twelve feet deep, one piece of the -picture of Faith and her contrary Mahomet, another piece with Temperance -and her contrary Sardynapales.” And there are others “wrought with -Flowers and slipps of Needlework,” while a “white Spanish rugg,” great -chairs and little chairs, French stools, “a little desk of mother o’ -pearl, a purple sarcanet quilt,” are duly noted, in addition to carpets -and hangings galore storied with myth and legend. Good rich things over -which to fight when it was a case of family quarrels! Many of these and -the other famous tapestries with which the lovely house is crammed are -being wisely guarded, and, where possible, delicately repaired, while -taste and gracious sympathy with every object are turning the Hall into -a place which is a perfect museum with the added grace of a house. The -very ring—attached to the foot of the Countess’s writing-table—through -which she slipped the leash of her dog, is still preserved. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - THE PRESENCE-CHAMBER, HARDWICK HALL - - Page 360 -] - -Set high upon a fine hill in the centre of a park, encircled with -rolling country, and facing east and west, the great, old windows of -Hardwick look out above colonnades upon a new world. At no great -distance are mines like those which have spoiled Bolsover and Worksop. -The masons still labour at the stonework of Hardwick, for storms have -worn the elaborate scrolling of those four proud towers, and the flagged -pathway from gate to house-door is pitted and hollowed by frost and rain -and the feet of generations. And still it stands, a monument and a -living record of one who knew in her strange, active life much grief and -much joy, who loved flattery and self-assertion and the struggle for -individual development, and yet could write in letters of stone over the -door of her presence-chamber: “The conclusion of all thinges is to feare -God and keepe His commaundements.” - -She had the great secret of living almost to the last in the “high -noone” of her desires. When the western sun bathes her façade she lives -again, walks again upon her terrace and under her colonnades. And with -her goes that great procession, pathetic and vital, of her “workes”—her -children, her friends, her buildings, her household gods, her intrigues, -her dazzling dreams, her bargains—and all of them seem to have a part in -the music of that duet of notions ever running in her head—“of bricks -and mortar to yield grandeur, of human beings to yield wealth.” - -She has been turned into ridicule by Horace Walpole, whose flippant -vulgarity nevertheless acknowledged her magnificence. She was called -shrew by a pompous bishop, but she had too much brain for a shrew. She -could certainly scold—“like one from the banke”—but so could her royal -mistress. In these two Elizabeths there is, after one allows for the -difference in their actual circumstances, a strange likeness. Both were -violent natures; both, in spite of their extraordinary sense of dignity, -had a strong dash of the hoyden. Both had immense vitality, relished -life intensely, loved to play with schemes. Both were obstinate, -affectionate, vindictive, pugnacious, essentially women of their era, a -type to which Elizabeth herself set the measure and called the tune. -While the sum of all sorrow is the same, their sorrows differed in -detail. Elizabeth of England, called to the immense sacrifice of her -womanhood for England, fell back in private on petty vanities, and had -her reward in the love of the larger public of her day and in the -enlightened homage of posterity to her sacrifice and her statesmanship. -Elizabeth Shrewsbury justly refused to sacrifice herself to the official -burdens put upon her earl, unjustly refused to go shares with him in -their common responsibilities, and so in her the “combat for the -individual” ran to exaggeration, with its harvest of sheer bitterness -and errors. In body and soul she represented that spirit of -individualism set in an epoch of intrigue, sensation, change, -uncertainty, wide and violent contrast, in days of large treasons and -international piracy, of high feeding and large ideas, of scented -gloves, masks, doublets, and ill-managed kitchen heaps, of plot and -counter-plot, of Court splendour and national drama. - -[Illustration: - - _Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_ - - HARDWICK HALL FROM THE WEST GARDEN - - Page 362 -] - -Tobie Matthew, Archbishop of York, preached a fine funeral sermon upon -this “costly Countess,” in which she was likened to the ideal virtuous -woman of Solomon, while Hunter, on the other hand, ironically suggests -that Massinger based his character of Sir Giles Overreach upon her. -Lodge has termed her violent, treacherous, tyrannical. Such in many ways -was the nature of England’s Elizabeth. Yet both women were makers and -builders, often blind, always resourceful, achieving immense results in -their several capacities. And since the royal symbol of the one is the -stately Tudor rose, so also shall the lovely “redolent aeglantyne” of -the motto of the other entwine and weave through the ages the memory of -all that was finest in the amazing Lady of Hardwick. With that sweet -savour—regarding it as the final evaporation of her complex, rampant, -thorny, vital nature—let all harsher thoughts of her now be chased away. - - - - - INDEX - - - A - - Adderley, Mr., 108 - - Alsope, Hugh, 17 - - Alva, Duke of, 40, 76, 92–3 - - Anjou, Duke of, 40, 76, 218, 221, 272, 317 - - Anne Boleyn, 28, 121 - - Anne of Cleves, 122 - - Anne of Denmark, 341–2, 344, 356 - - Appleyard, 92 - - Argyle, Earl of, 39 - - Arran, Earl of, 39, 123 - - Arundel, Earl of, 314 - - - B - - Barlow, Antony, 108 - - Barlow, Robert, 3, 355 - - Beale, Robert, 228, 231 _et sqq._, 268, 293 - - Bedford, Countess of, 188 - - Bedford, Earl of, 188 - - Bell, William, 92–3 - - Bentall, 256 _et sqq._ - - Beresford, Henry, 282 _et sqq._, 289, 290 - - Beton, Andrew, 232 - - Beton, Archbishop, 232 - - Beton, John, 81, 232 - - Beauchamp, Lord, 340 - - Bolsover, 35, 43, 204, 347, 351 _et sqq._ - - Bolton, Castle, Mary Queen of Scots at, 47, 49 - - Bonaparte, Napoleon, 35 - - Bothwell, Earl of, 68–9, 119, 127 - - Boughton, Elizabeth. _See_ Cavendish - - Brackenbury, Richard, 327 - - Bruce, Mrs., 66 - - Burghley, Lady, 32, 101, 105, 128, 316 - - Burghley, Robert Cecil, Lord, 340–1 - - Burghley, Thomas Cecil, Lord, 188 - - Burghley, William Cecil, Lord, 23, 32, 38, 69, 79, 101, 104–5, 178, - 183, 211, 257, 259, 302, 314, 316, 325; - and Lady Catherine Grey’s marriage, 27, 30; - and Mary Queen of Scots’ marriage, 29; - letters written to, 30, 64–5, 80, 149, 150, 153, 208, 236, 239, 278, - 329, 333; - and Lady Mary Grey’s marriage, 31; - and imprisonment of Mary Queen of Scots, 47, 64–5, 70, 72, 97; - visits Mary Queen of Scots, 80, 128, 228; - letters from, 82, 161, 165, 188; - and Lascelles, 82–3; - and Norfolk’s death, 87; - and the Norwich high treason trial, 92–3; - his and Elizabeth’s distrust of the Shrewsburys, 110 _et sqq._; - and Lady Lennox, 125, 153; - and the Lennox marriage, 149, 150, 236, 239; - Shrewsbury’s present of plate to, 161; - and Lady Shrewsbury’s match-making, 165 _et sqq._; - goes to Buxton, 187; - and the accusation against Lord Shrewsbury, 249, 250; - and the Shrewsbury quarrel, 26, 279 _et sqq._, 285, 290, 298; - and Shrewsbury’s slanderers, 264; - and the “Scandal Letter,” 271; - and Mary Queen of Scots’ trial, 308–9; - and Lady Arabella’s income, 329 _et sqq._; - and Lady Arabella’s proposed marriage, 333 _et sqq._; - his death, 340; - his portrait at Hardwick, 356 - - Butts, Sir William, 92 - - Buxton, Mary Queen of Scots at, 110, 167, 171, 179 - - - C - - Caithness, Bishop of, 220 - - Catherine de Medici, 117 - - Cavendish, Anne, 6 - - Cavendish, Sir Charles, 6, 45, 242, 247–8, 254, 258, 264, 268, 275, - 282, 284, 292, 296, 305, 337, 340–1, 348 - - Cavendish, Elizabeth. _See_ Lennox - - Cavendish, Elizabeth, 6 - - Cavendish, Lady Grace, 6, 36, 44, 258, 355 - - Cavendish, Henry, 6, 36, 99, 107, 256 _et sqq._, 261, 284, 344, 346, - 348, 355 - - Cavendish, Thomas, 4 - - Cavendish, Sir William, “Bess of Hardwick’s” second husband, 4 _et - sqq._, 11, 355 - - Cavendish, William. _See_ Earl of Devonshire - - Cecil. _See_ Lord Burghley - - Chamley, Sir Hugh, 181 - - Chatsworth, 6 _et sqq._, 16, 72, 79, 80, 84, 91, 110, 120, 130, 152, - 180 _et sqq._, 184, 205, 208, 214, 258, 284–5, 294, 296–7, 334, 341, - 347 - - Cobham, Lord, 32 - - Cobham, Lady, 33, 42, 44, 118 - - Cooke, R., 256 - - Copley, Christopher, 293 - - Corker, Chaplain, 114 _et sqq._ - - Crompe, James, 10, 19, 22 - - Cumberland, Countess of, 188 - - Cumberland, Earl of, 188, 256, 301 - - Curle, 252, 257 - - - D - - Darcy, Lord, 32 - - Darnley, Henry, Earl of, 29, 39, 68–9, 119, 124 _et sqq._, 146, 153, - 159, 176, 240 - - Derby, Earl of, 275, 314 - - Devonshire, first Earl of, 6, 10, 22, 294, 298, 334–5; - and Lady Arabella Stuart, 239; - and Mary Queen of Scots, 247, 268–9; - and Hardwick Hall, 256, 258–9, 262, 287; - Lady Shrewsbury’s love for, 329, 356; - barony conferred on, 342; - family’s jealousy of, 347; - earldom conferred on, 348; - and Chatsworth, 352; - his portrait at Hardwick, 356 - - Dickenson, Gilbert, 298, 312 - - Dudley, Lady Amy, 175 - - Dudley, Lord Robert. _See_ Earl of Leicester - - Dyer, Edward, 102, 104 - - - E - - Edward VI, 6 _et sqq._, 24, 122, 124 - - Elizabeth, Queen, 16–17, 20, 35, 121–2, 189, 233, 257, 260, 301, 307, - 360; - and Lady Catherine Grey’s elopement, 26 _et sqq._, 30; - her suitors, 29, 221, 317; - and Lady Mary Grey’s marriage, 31; - and “Bess of Hardwick’s” fourth marriage, 36 _et sqq._; - and the custody of Mary Queen of Scots, 39 _et sqq._; - and Queen Mary’s expenditure, 63; - courtiers’ opinion of, 64–5; - and Mary’s release, 80–1; - and Queen Mary’s attachment to the Duke of Norfolk, 75 _et sqq._, 85, - 87; - her suspicions of the Shrewsburys, 77 _et sqq._, 97–8, 110 _et sqq._, - 212, 214 _et sqq._, 226 _et sqq._; - and Norfolk’s trial and execution, 95–6; - her affection for the Earl of Leicester, 73, 101, 105, 175 _et sqq._, - 315; - her favourites, 101–2, 277; - and Lady Lennox, 125 _et sqq._, 145; - and Elizabeth Cavendish’s marriage to the Earl of Lennox, 147 _et - sqq._, 270; - consigns Lady Lennox and Lady Shrewsbury to the Tower, 153; - her allowance to Shrewsbury, 162; - her depression, 162–3; - visits the Countess of Pembroke, 163; - Burghley’s loyalty to, 167–8; - her possible successor, 174, 338; - and Leicester’s visit to the Shrewsburys, 182 _et sqq._; - her letter to the Shrewsburys, 183 _et sqq._; - letter written to, 186; - her fear of Queen Mary, 186–7, 211 _et sqq._; - and the pageant at Whitehall, 225; - Queen Mary’s appeals to, 230–1; - and Lady Arabella Stuart, 239, _et sqq._; - and Mary’s attack on the Shrewsburys, 242 _et sqq._; - and the Shrewsbury slander, 263–4, 268; - and the Shrewsbury quarrel, 267, 279 _et sqq._, 292 _et sqq._; - the “Scandal Letter” to, 271 _et sqq._; - her pursuits, 315–16, 362; - her fondness for children, 327; - and the provision for Lady Arabella, 329 _et sqq._; - and Lady Arabella’s proposed marriage, 340; - her portrait at Hardwick, 356 - - Essex, Countess of, 171 - - - F - - Fawley, Mr., 305 - - Fénélon, La Mothe, 147, 152, 191 - - Fletcher, Dr., Dean of Peterborough, 311–12 - - Fletewood, William, Recorder of London, 262, 269 - - Foljambe, Hercules, 255 - - Fowller, Thomas, 237 - - - G - - Gerrard, Judge, 92–3 - - Glasgow, Archbishop of, 238 - - Gresham, Sir Thomas, 188 - - Grey, Lady Catherine. _See_ Countess of Hertford - - Grey, Lady Jane, 24, 125 - - Grey, Sir John, 30 - - Grey, Lady Mary. _See_ Keys - - Grey, Lord Leonard, 14 - - - H - - Hall, John, 36 - - Hammer, Rev. Merideth, 263 - - Hardwick, Elizabeth (“Bess of Hardwick”). _See_ Countess of Shrewsbury - - Hardwick, Elizabeth (mother of “Bess of Hardwick”), 13, 23 - - Hardwick Hall, 7, 8, 17, 258, 261, 325, 331–2, 334, 342 _et sqq._, - 351–2 - - Hardwick, John (father of “Bess of Hardwick”), 1 _et sqq._, 7 - - Hatton, Sir Christopher, 102, 104, 272–3 - - Haydon, Sir Christopher, 92 - - Henry VIII, 5, 7, 14, 24, 120, 123–4, 179, 219 - - Henry of Navarre, 165 - - Herbert, Lady Anne. _See_ Talbot - - Herbert. _See_ Pembroke - - Hereford, Viscount, 76 - - Hertford, Countess of, 24 _et sqq._, 158, 175, 270, 339 - - Hertford, Dowager Countess of, 27–8 - - Hertford, Earl of, 25 _et sqq._, 153, 339 - - Howard, Hon. Francis, 101 - - Howard, Lord Thomas, 121–2, 153 - - Hunsden, Lord, 173 - - Huntingdon, Earl of, 76 _et sqq._, 86, 155–6, 181, 212 - - - J - - Jackson, Henry, 23 - - James I, 69, 76, 123, 127, 129, 130, 159, 160, 220, 240, 311, 332, 338, - 340 _et sqq._ - - John of Austria, Don, 207, 223 - - Julio, Mr., 223 - - - K - - Katherine of Aragon, 121 - - Katherine Howard, 122 - - Katherine Parr, 123 - - Kennet, Bishop, 4 - - Kent, Earl of, 310 - - Keys, John, Serjeant Porter, 29, 31 - - Keys, Lady Mary, 29, 31, 158 - - Kighley, Anne. _See_ Cavendish - - Killigrew, Sir William, 273 - - Knifton, Mr., 256, 313 - - Knollys, Sir Francis, 46, 48, 50, 71 - - Knollys, Lettice. _See_ Countess of Leicester - - Kynnersley, Nicholas, 312 - - - L - - Lascelles, Hersey, 82 _et sqq._, 305 - - Leake, Elizabeth, 359 - - Leake, Sir Francis, 343 - - Lee, Sir Henry, 300 _et sqq._ - - Leicester, Douglas, Countess of, 101, 177 - - Leicester, Lettice, Countess of, 177, 259 - - Leicester, Robert Dudley, Earl of, 42, 94, 104, 125, 223, 227, 264, - 303, 306–7; - and Lady Catherine Grey’s marriage, 27; - Queen Elizabeth’s love for, 29, 75, 101, 176, 183, 315; - and the Norwich conspiracy trial, 92; - his gaiety, 100–1, 178; - and the Lennox marriage, 147 _et sqq._; - letter written by, 170; - chit-chat concerning, 171–2; - his visit to Buxton, 174 _et sqq._; - his insolence to the Queen, 177; - Elizabeth’s letter concerning, 184 _et sqq._; - and the Shrewsbury tenantry, 215–16; - and Francis Talbot’s death, 230; - and Bentall, 256 _et sqq._; - death of his son, 259; - and the Shrewsbury quarrel, 280, 292, 294; - letter written to, 292; - his death, 315–16 - - Lennox, Charles Stuart, Earl of, 6, 12 _et sqq._, 153, 157, 219, 270 - - Lennox, Matthew, Earl of, 123 _et sqq._, 159, 240 - - Lennox, Elizabeth, Countess of, 6, 213, 222, 273–4; - her courtship, 131 _et sqq._; - her marriage, 145–6; - the Queen’s anger against, 147 _et sqq._, 153, 270; - pathetic letter to her mother, 157–8; - birth of her daughter, Lady Arabella Stuart, 158; - letter to Queen Elizabeth, 160; - her widowhood, 189; - her death, 234 _et sqq._; - the Queen’s allowance to, 329 - - Lennox, Margaret, Countess of, 118, 120 _et sqq._, 145 _et sqq._; - letters written by, 150, 159, 175, 219, 237–8, 270 - - Lenton, John, 276 - - Leviston, Lady, 64 - - Lichfield, Bishop of, 317 _et sqq._ - - Livingstone, Lady, 66 - - - M - - Manners, Roger, 188 - - Manners, Lady, 305 - - Margaret Queen of Scotland, 24, 120 - - Mary, Queen, 12, 20, 120, 125, 356 - - Mary of Lorraine, 123 - - Mary Queen of Scots, 28, 110, 155, 162, 169, 193, 196, 208, 223, 292, - 308; - her marriage to Darnley, 29, 39; - Elizabeth’s plotting against, 39 _et sqq._; - her life as a prisoner, 47 _et sqq._, 63 _et sqq._, 85–6; - her description of Tutbury Castle, 62–3; - and the Duke of Norfolk, 68–9, 75 _et sqq._, 85; - goes to Wingfield, 70–1; - her ill-health, 72, 79, 81, 97, 230 _et sqq._; - and Norfolk’s execution, 87 _et sqq._, 97; - strict surveillance of, 95–6, 98; - her misfortunes, 105, 119; - her claims, 115; - her fear of assassination, 117; - and the Countess of Lennox, 125 _et sqq._; - letter written by, 128; - her reconciliation with the Countess of Lennox, 145–6, 159, 160; - and the birth of Lady Arabella Stuart, 159; - Lord Burghley and, 166 _et sqq._; - at Buxton, 171; - her friendship with Lady Shrewsbury, 174, 209; - and Leicester, 176–7, 190–1; - her reported escape, 207, 211 _et sqq._, 221; - and Lady Arabella Stuart’s heritage, 220, 236 _et sqq._; - her love of gaiety, 225–6; - her diet, 228; - her accusations against Lady Shrewsbury, 241 _et sqq._, 246 _et - sqq._; - the slander against, 245, 249, 250, 263 _et sqq._, 268 _et sqq._; - her execution at Fotheringay, 266, 309 _et sqq._, 323, 337; - her “Scandal Letter” to Elizabeth, 271 _et sqq._; - her bower at Chatsworth, 352; - her portrait at Hardwick Hall, 356–7 - - Matthew, Tobie, Archbishop of York, 363 - - Mauvissière, 242, 244 _et sqq._ - - Mendoza, Don Bernardino de, 278 - - Middleton, Antony, 93 - - Mildmay, Sir Walter, 293 - - Moray, Earl of, 39, 69, 75 - - Morton, James Douglas, Earl of, 159, 240 - - - N - - Norfolk, fifth Duke of, 177 - - Norfolk, Thomas, fourth Duke of, 68–9, 75 _et sqq._, 79, 82, 85 _et - sqq._, 97, 105, 119, 190 - - Norris, Lord, 188 - - Norris, Lady, 171 - - - O - - Ogle, Cuthbert Lord, 45 - - Ogle, Jane. _See_ Shrewsbury - - Osborne, Peter, 24 - - Oseley, Solicitor-General, 34 - - Owlcotes, 343, 351 - - Oxford, Earl of, 101, 105, 273 - - - P - - Paget, Lord, 46, 100, 275 - - Parker, Archbishop, 28 - - Parma, Duke of, 332 - - Pembroke, Catherine Countess of, 45, 163 - - Pembroke, Henry Herbert, second Earl of, 24, 45, 163 - - Pembroke, William Earl of, 45 - - Philip of Spain, 82 - - Pierrepoint, Sir George, 20–1 - - Pierrepoint, Sir Henry, 6, 20, 41 - - Pierrepoint, Lady, 6, 41 - - Poland, King of, 344 - - Portington, Roger, 301, 305 - - - R - - Raleigh, Sir Walter, 32, 344 - - Rawley, Sir Walter, 338 - - Robsart, Amy. _See_ Dudley - - Rolson, 275 - - Roods, Mr. Serjeant, 257 - - Ross, Bishop of, 71, 79, 81, 129 - - Rufford, 35, 151, 199, 252, 327, 351 - - Rutland, Edward Manners, third Earl of, 254 _et sqq._ - - Ruxby, 275 - - - S - - Sackville, Lady, 126 - - Sackville, Sir Richard, 17, 126 - - Sadler, Sir Ralph, 86 _et sqq._, 265, 293 - - St. Loe, Sir William, 13 (“Bess of Hardwick’s” third husband), 13 _et - sqq._, 23, 286 - - Scrope, Lord, 48, 112 - - Seaton, Mrs., 64 - - Seton, Mary, 66–7, 232–3, 242–3 - - Seymour, Lady Jane, 28 - - Seymour, William, 339, 340, 342 - - Sheffield, Lady. _See_ Countess of Leicester. - - Sheffield Castle, 35, 281; - Mary Queen of Scots at, 73 _et sqq._, 85 _et sqq._, 95 _et sqq._, 110 - _et sqq._, 171, 193, 231 _et sqq._ - - Shrewsbury, Edward Talbot, eighth Earl of, 43, 45, 169, 189, 308, - 325–6, 340, 348 - - Shrewsbury, Elizabeth Countess of: her birth, 1; - her early life, 2; - her early marriage and widowhood, 3; - her second marriage to Sir William Cavendish, 4; - her family, 5 _et sqq._, 12–13, 36; - rebuilds Chatsworth, 7, 12, 23, 72, 91, 202 _et sqq._; - instructions to her steward, 9, 10; - death of her husband, 10; - her third marriage to Sir William St. Loe, 13 _et sqq._; - letters written to, 8, 17, 18, 19, 21, 40, 42, 45, 106 _et sqq._, - 158, 181, 188, 193, 197–8, 202, 254, 286; - letters written by, 9, 22, 183, 194, 239, 290, 298, 329, 333; - death of her husband, 23, 32; - and Lady Catherine Grey’s marriage, 27, 30; - her suitors, 32–3; - her fourth marriage to Earl of Shrewsbury, 34 _et sqq._; - and Mary Queen of Scots’ imprisonment, 46–7, 50–1, 63 _et sqq._, 86 - _et sqq._, 95–6; - and Author’s interlude at Tutbury Castle, 52 _et sqq._; - at Wingfield Manor, 70 _et sqq._; - and Queen Elizabeth’s suspicion of, 72–3, 77 _et sqq._, 97, 111; - and Henry Lascelles, 83 _et sqq._; - and Mary and Norfolk, 87 _et sqq._; - her business instincts, 114, 119; - Mary’s attitude to, 117; - and her daughter Elizabeth’s marriage, 132, 145 _et sqq._; - her imprisonment in the Tower, 153 _et sqq._, 161; - released from the Tower, 156; - the birth of her grandchild, 158–9, 173–4; - her love of match-making, 165 _et sqq._; - restored to Elizabeth’s favour, 170; - entertains Leicester at Chatsworth, 182 _et sqq._; - her social importance, 193; - her household needs, 196; - and Gilbert Talbot, 197; - family quarrels, 200 _et sqq._; - the dissension between the Earl and, 200 _et sqq._, 213–14, 251, 260 - _et sqq._, 279 _et sqq._, 312–13, 318 _et sqq._; - and her love of building, 203, 214; - her grief at her grandchild’s death, 208–9, 213; - presents to, from Mary, 209; - the tenantry and, 215 _et sqq._; - and the rights of Lady Arabella Stuart, 220, 236, 239 _et sqq._, 328 - _et sqq._, 333 _et sqq._, 343, 345; - and Elizabeth’s flattery, 222; - and Mary Queen of Scots’ illness, 233; - and the death of her daughter, Lady Lennox, 234 _et sqq._; - and Mary Queen of Scots’ complaints of, 241 _et sqq._; - and the Shrewsbury scandal, 245 _et sqq._, 268 _et sqq._; - and Gilbert Talbot’s monetary affairs, 254 _et sqq._; - division of her property, 258, 284–5; - and Queen Elizabeth as peacemaker, 267–8, 283, 290, 292 _et sqq._, - 312; - appears before the Lords of the Council, 268 _et sqq._; - and the “Scandal Letter,” 271 _et sqq._; - and the Earl’s financial proposal, 296 _et sqq._; - appeals to Burghley, 298; - Bishop of Lichfield and, 318 _et sqq._; - her characteristics, 322, 354–5, 361 _et sqq._; - quarrels with Gilbert and Mary, 324, 326; - builds Owlcotes, 343, 348; - her serious illness, 344, 346; - her death, 347; - her mansions, 349 _et sqq._; - her portrait at Hardwick, 354 - - Shrewsbury, George Talbot, sixth Earl of (“Bess of Hardwick’s” fourth - husband), 241; - his ancestry, 34–5; - honours bestowed on, 35; - his marriage to “Bess of Hardwick,” 36 _et sqq._; - his enormous correspondence, 38; - letters written by, 42, 45, 78, 97, 106, 108–9, 111, 115, 165, 186–7, - 193, 208, 234, 259, 279, 281, 286, 299, 305; - his charge of Mary Queen of Scots, 40–1, 43, 45 _et sqq._, 95, 180, - 231; - his allowance for Mary, 63, 113–14, 162; - and Mary’s life at Tutbury, 64 _et sqq._; - at Wingfield, 70 _et sqq._; - his illness, 72–3; - Queen Elizabeth’s complaints of, 76–7, 97–8, 111 _et sqq._, 156, 226; - and Queen Mary’s health, 81, 96; - and the attack on his wife, 82 _et sqq._, 97–8; - and Duke of Norfolk’s trial, 86–7; - letters written to, 99 _et sqq._, 109, 290, 301, 318; - his characteristics, 113, 246, 254; - and the priests’ accusation, 114 _et sqq._; - and Elizabeth Cavendish’s marriage, 147 _et sqq._; - and his wife’s imprisonment, 153 _et sqq._; - his present to Burghley, 161–2; - and his son’s proposed marriage, 166 _et sqq._; - his expenditure, 169, 227–8; - and Leicester at Buxton, 171; - entertains Leicester at Chatsworth, 182 _et sqq._; - his parsimony, 196, 201, 299; - disagreements with his children, 198, 251 _et sqq._; - disagreements with his wife, 200 _et sqq._, 213, 251 _et sqq._, 258 - _et sqq._, 312 _et sqq._; - and Mary’s reported escape, 207, 211; - and his grandchild’s death, 208–9; - Mary’s friendliness towards, 209; - pleads to Queen Elizabeth, 212; - difficulties with his tenants, 214 _et sqq._; - and his grandchild Arabella, 220; - wishes to visit the Queen, 230; - death of his son Francis, 230, 259; - and Mary’s ill-health, 231 _et sqq._; - and the death of Lady Lennox, 234–5; - the slander against, 245, 249, 250, 262 _et sqq._, 267 _et sqq._; - and Mary Talbot, 254 _et sqq._; - his dislike of Chatsworth, 258–9; - released from his charge of Mary, 266; - visits Elizabeth, 266–7; - and Elizabeth as peacemaker, 267, 278, 296 _et sqq._; - his monetary disputes with the Countess, 284 _et sqq._; - and Elizabeth’s partiality for the Countess, 292 _et sqq._; - and Elizabeth’s profession, 295, 315; - Elizabeth’s decision, 296 _et sqq._; - reproves Mary Talbot’s extravagance, 299, 300; - Sir Henry Lee and, 299 _et sqq._; - his lonely old age, 307–8, 315–16; - summoned to Fotheringay, 307; - and execution of Mary Queen of Scots, 309 _et sqq._; - Bishop of Lichfield’s advice to, 318 _et sqq._; - his death, 322 _et sqq._ - - Shrewsbury, Gilbert Talbot, seventh Earl of, 6, 43, 106, 127, 157, 164, - 228, 283, 286, 308; - his marriage, 36, 44–5; - letters written by, 99, 117, 171, 197, 199, 202, 215, 254, 314, 346; - his varied duties, 99, 223; - letters written to, 109, 299; - and his first child, 111; - and the priests’ accusations against his father, 114–15, 117–18; - Court chit-chat by, 171 _et sqq._; - entertains Leicester at Buxton, 180; - his illness, 195; - and his uncongenial home, 197 _et sqq._; - dissension with his father, 198 _et sqq._; - and his parents’ quarrels, 201 _et sqq._, 254 _et sqq._; - and the Shrewsbury tenantry, 215 _et sqq._; - and Elizabeth’s “deshabille,” 221–2; - champions his stepmother, Lady Shrewsbury, 251–2; - death of his son, 259; - his monetary difficulties, 299, 348; - his love for his stepmother, 314–15; - succeeds his father, 324–5, 327; - his portrait at Hardwick Hall, 324; - quarrels with his brother Edward, 326; - entertains the King, 340–1; - and Lady Arabella Stuart, 342; - quarrels with his stepmother, 343 - - Shrewsbury, Jane, Countess of, 45 - - Shrewsbury, John Talbot, first Earl of, 34–5 - - Shrewsbury, Mary, Countess of, 6, 11, 157, 252, 299, 314, 324, 337, - 346, 348 - - Sidney, Sir Philip, 225 - - Simier, 272, 277 - - Skargelle, George, 226 - - Skipwith, Henry, 17 - - Smith, Sir Thomas, 103, 173 - - Snagge, Serjeant, 314 - - Somerset, Duke of, 25 - - Southwell, Francis, 103 - - Stafford, Sir Edward, 332 - - Stanhope, Sir Thomas, 204, 206, 252–3, 327 - - Steele, 257 - - Story, Dr., 92–3 - - Stuart, Esmé, Lord d’Aubigny, 220, 240, 339 - - Stuart, Lady Arabella, 213, 312–13, 315, 348, 355; - her birth, 158–9, 173; - her rights, 219, 220; - the allowance for, 228, 240, 329 _et sqq._; - death of her mother, 234; - and her succession to her father’s earldom, 236–7; - Mary’s bequest of jewels to, 237–8; - appeals to Elizabeth on behalf of, 238–9; - Lady Shrewsbury’s ambitions for, 241, 244, 322, 328, 338; - proposed alliances for, 276, 332 _et sqq._, 339, 344; - her postscript to Lord Burghley, 331; - goes to Court, 337 _et sqq._; - her betrothal to William Seymour, 339; - her arrest, 339, 340; - appointed State Governess, 341; - summoned to Lady’s Shrewsbury’s bedside 344–5 - - Suffolk, Duchess of, 131, 151 - - Sussex, Earl of, 101 - - Sussex, Countess of, 171 - - - T - - Talbot, Lady Anne, 45, 163 - - Talbot, Lady Catherine. _See_ Pembroke - - Talbot, Lord Edward. _See_ Shrewsbury - - Talbot, Lady Francis, 305, 325 - - Talbot, Lord Francis, 45, 99, 162, 224, 228, 230, 259, 280, 325 - - Talbot, Lady Grace. _See_ Cavendish - - Talbot, George. _See_ Sixth Earl of Shrewsbury - - Talbot, George, 200, 208 - - Talbot, Gilbert. _See_ Seventh Earl of Shrewsbury - - Talbot, Henry, Lord, 45, 189, 294–5, 301, 308, 325, 348 - - Talbot, Lady Jane, 45 - - Talbot, John. _See_ First Earl of Shrewsbury - - Talbot, Mary. _See_ Countess of Shrewsbury - - Talbott, John, 333 - - Throgmorton, Sir Nicholas, 92–3 - - Thurlby, Bishop, 94 - - Thynne, Sir John, 32 - - Topcliffe, Richard, 264; - his letter to Lady Shrewsbury, 188 - - Tutbury Castle, 35, 351, 353; - Mary Queen of Scots at, 40, 47 _et sqq._, 62 _et sqq._, 76 _et sqq._, - 171; - Author’s Dramatic Interlude at, 52 _et sqq._ - - - W - - Walpole, Horace, 357, 361 - - Walsingham, Sir Francis, 23, 78, 103, 165, 171, 173, 183, 209, 223, - 264, 267–8, 275, 281 _et sqq._, 297 - - Warner, Sir Edward, 27 - - Warwick, Ambrose Earl of, 185, 188 - - Watts, Archdeacon, 93 - - Welbeck Abbey, 35, 254, 258, 341, 351 _et sqq._ - - Wharton, Lord, 188 - - White, Nicholas, 64 - - Wilson, Dr., 102–3, 105 - - Wingfield, Mr., 37 - - Wingfield Manor, 35, 286, 297 _et sqq._, 312, 334, 351; - Mary Queen of Scots at, 70 _et sqq._, 265, 268 - - Winter, Sir William, 173 - - Wood, Dr., 326 - - Worksop Manor, 35, 197, 340, 351 _et sqq._ - - Wortley, Sir Richard, 325 - - - Z - - Zouche, Sir John, 195 - - Zouche, Lady, 2, 3 - ------ - -Footnote 1: - - Collins’ _Noble Families_. - -Footnote 2: - - The Marquis of Dorset. - -Footnote 3: - - State MS. - -Footnote 4: - - ? Almoner. - -Footnote 5: - - Avoid = clear out. - -Footnote 6: - - Lady Jane Grey. - -Footnote 7: - - State MS. - -Footnote 8: - - According to Leland, “Halamshire beginneth a ii. mile from Rotheram. - Sheffield iii miles from Rotheram, wher the lord of Shreusbyre’s - castle, the chefe market towne of Halamshire. And Halamshire goeth one - way vi or vii miles above Sheffield by west, yet as I here say, - another way the next village to Sheffield is in Derbyshire. Al - Halamshire go to the seesions of York and is counted as a membre of - Yorkshire. Aeglesfield and Bradfeld ii townelettes or villages long to - one paroche chirche. So by this meanes (as I was enstructed) ther be - but iii paroches in Halamshire that is of name, and a great Chapelle.” - - Hunter sums up these three parishes as Sheffield, Ecclesfield, and - Hansworth, with the chapelry of Bradfield. - -Footnote 9: - - Hunter’s _Hallamshire_. - -Footnote 10: - - None = own. Probably an abbreviation of “mine own.” - -Footnote 11: - - Hunter’s _Hallamshire_. - -Footnote 12: - - His disaffected tenants at Bolsover. - -Footnote 13: - - Construction. - -Footnote 14: - - When Lady Catherine Grey was imprisoned in the Tower for her secret - marriage with the Earl of Hertford she took amongst her belongings - some pet monkeys. These played havoc with the hangings, not in - first-rate condition, with which, by Elizabeth’s order, the - cheerlessness of her prison apartments was mitigated. - -Footnote 15: - - The famous scandal-letter about the Countess of Shrewsbury from Mary - to Elizabeth, to which reference follows later. - -Footnote 16: - - Blank in the MS. - -Footnote 17: - - Of Norfolk. - -Footnote 18: - - A servant of the Shrewsburys. - -Footnote 19: - - Daughters of William, Lord Howard of Effingham. - -Footnote 20: - - Blank In the MS. - -Footnote 21: - - Hunter’s _Hallamshire_. - -Footnote 22: - - In the light of after events this is a somewhat rash offer! - -Footnote 23: - - Corker had apparently eaten his words in a whining counter statement. - -Footnote 24: - - Hunter’s _Hallamshire_. - -Footnote 25: - - His death took place in 1575, but Mary did not hear of it till a year - later. - -Footnote 26: - - Leader, _Mary Queen of Scots in Captivity_. - -Footnote 27: - - The Cavendish motto, meaning “Secure by taking care.” - -Footnote 28: - - _Mary Queen of Scots: Her Environment and Tragedy_, by T. F. - Henderson. - -Footnote 29: - - State Papers—Domestic, quoted by Miss Strickland. - -Footnote 30: - - State Papers—Domestic. - -Footnote 31: - - Blank in the original, as given in Lodge’s _Illustrations of British - History_. - -Footnote 32: - - Hunter’s _Hallamshire_. - -Footnote 33: - - Explain or set aside. - -Footnote 34: - - Lady Grace’s letter. - -Footnote 35: - - The Queen had a small palace here, in Northamptonshire. - -Footnote 36: - - Gilbert Talbot had apparently fallen out of favour. The matter is, - however, so unimportant that no explanation remains of it. - -Footnote 37: - - His three wives were: Amy or Anne, daughter and heir to Sir John - Robsart; Douglas, daughter of William Lord Howard of Effingham and - widow of John Lord Sheffield, by whom he had one son, Sir Robert - Dudley; and Lettice Knollys, daughter of Sir Francis Knollys and widow - of Walter Earl of Essex. Amy Robsart died suddenly at Kenilworth, and - he did not even attend her funeral; Lady Sheffield he repudiated - because of his passion for Lettice Knollys, whose death took place - under suspicious circumstances. He declared his son by Lady Sheffield - to be illegitimate, and she, though married to him, was so frightened - by his attempt to remove her by poison, in order that he might wed the - widowed Countess of Essex, that, though legally bound to him, she - became the wife of Sir Edward Stafford, of Grafton. - -Footnote 38: - - Hunter’s _Hallamshire_. - -Footnote 39: - - Her husband died of consumption within two years of the hasty and - romantic wedding at Rufford Abbey. - -Footnote 40: - - Hallamshire knives, or “whittles,” were famous, and the Earl often - sent gifts of sets to his friends in these early days of the - development of Sheffield cutlery. - -Footnote 41: - - Creighton takes the view that this was Elizabeth’s elaborate method of - flogging the couple at Chatsworth for luring Leicester to Chatsworth, - and that she highly disapproved of the visit. - -Footnote 42: - - Ambrose Earl of Warwick, to whom Lord Leicester bequeathed his - estates, only making his own son, Robert Dudley, heir in the second - place. - -Footnote 43: - - In sending her thanks for Leicester’s entertainment Elizabeth - apparently despatched also to Shrewsbury a separate letter embodying - her old suspicious fears. - -Footnote 44: - - Could this be the Earl of Warwick, who, as suggested in Elizabeth’s - skittish letter just quoted, had been invited to Chatsworth with Lord - Leicester? - -Footnote 45: - - Hunter’s _Hallamshire_. - -Footnote 46: - - Letters of Mary Queen of Scots, quoted by Leader. - -Footnote 47: - - Hunter’s _Hallamshire_. - -Footnote 48: - - The Earl and Sir John Zouch, a kinsman of the Countess, were - contesting the right to sell some Derbyshire lead mines. - -Footnote 49: - - Hunter’s _Hallamshire_. - -Footnote 50: - - _Ibid._ - -Footnote 51: - - Goodrich Castle, in Herefordshire; also one of the Shrewsbury - properties at this date. - -Footnote 52: - - His little son. - -Footnote 53: - - The mouth of a coal-pit. - -Footnote 54: - - Probably “detailing” or “appealing to.” - -Footnote 55: - - Hunter’s _Hallamshire_. - -Footnote 56: - - That is, clearly a plot against Shrewsbury. - -Footnote 57: - - The Duke of Anjou, Elizabeth’s new suitor, whom she called her - “Frogg,” while his ambassador, Simier, who so nearly, in his own - opinion, secured for his master the bride of his ambitions, was known - at Court as the “Monkey.” - -Footnote 58: - - Leader. - -Footnote 59: - - Evidently his elder brother Francis Talbot, who was probably about to - visit his parents. - -Footnote 60: - - Quoted in Creighton’s _Elizabeth_. - -Footnote 61: - - Ellis’s _Letters_ (Lansdowne MSS.). - -Footnote 62: - - Ellis’s _Letters_. - -Footnote 63: - - Labanoff. - -Footnote 64: - - _Ibid._ - -Footnote 65: - - Ellis’s _Letters_. - -Footnote 66: - - Labanoff. _State Papers_, Mary Queen of Scots. - -Footnote 67: - - I have translated this freely. Mary means the tissue of treachery, the - fabrications of the Countess during their acquaintance. - -Footnote 68: - - The Queen. - -Footnote 69: - - Labanoff. This translation is the one given by Leader. - -Footnote 70: - - Steele. - -Footnote 71: - - Vol. CCVII State Papers. - -Footnote 72: - - This “dyarium” is reprinted by Wright, Vol. II, _Queen Elizabeth and - her Times_. - -Footnote 73: - - The day after Michaelmas. - -Footnote 74: - - Ere. - -Footnote 75: - - Letter to Liggons, May 18, 1586. State MSS. Mary Queen of Scots. - -Footnote 76: - - Labanoff. - -Footnote 77: - - Killigrew was a deadly enemy of Mary, for he had been sent in 1572 to - Scotland by Elizabeth to propose the demand by the Scots of the - surrender of Mary on condition that she should be executed. - -Footnote 78: - - Rolson was a gentleman pensioner of Elizabeth who betrayed his father, - one of the conspirators who engaged in 1570 with the sons of the Earl - of Derby in a plot to convey Mary out of Chatsworth through a window. - She mentioned him four years later in a letter to “Monsieur de Glasgo” - with the greatest abhorrence, both as filial traitor and as author of - a design to poison her. - -Footnote 79: - - I.e. Of her keep and its cost. - -Footnote 80: - - The Act referred to is one passed in the reign of Richard II to punish - the slander of high personages or officials. - -Footnote 81: - - State MSS. - -Footnote 82: - - By “A Catholic,” State MSS. - -Footnote 83: - - Hunter’s _Hallamshire_. - -Footnote 84: - - Blank in the MS. - -Footnote 85: - - Ellis’s _Letters_. - -Footnote 86: - - Ellis’s _Letters_. - -Footnote 87: - - Costello. - -Footnote 88: - - “None-Such”—one of the royal palaces at this time. - - - - - PRINTED BY - WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD. - PLYMOUTH - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. P. 326, changed “prosperous except for their absurd expenditure” to - “preposterous except for their absurd expenditure”. - 2. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. - 3. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. - 4. Footnotes were re-indexed using numbers and collected together at - the end of the last chapter. - 5. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. - 6. Superscripts are denoted by a caret before a single superscript - character or a series of superscripted characters enclosed in - curly braces, e.g. M^r. or M^{ister}. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BESS OF HARDWICK AND HER CIRCLE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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