The Prince had the wit to say nothing, perhaps because most of the English gentlemen still had their swords at the ready. He sheathed his blade at last, turned his horse, arid moved off, without the slightest bow or courtesy to the Queen. After a moment's hesitation, his gentlemen followed him.
“A very ill-mannered knave,” the Queen said loudly, taking a deep breath. “Now, will you please come down from that tree?” she said to me.
Once the Queen had seen me safely down from the tree, she ordered everyone to move on before they could recognize me. I was quite shaky from all the strain, but Masou and Ellie came out from their hiding place to help me, and soon I was back in my usual apparel and a perfectly ordinary Maid of Honour once again.
As I got back to our chamber, Mrs. Champernowne waylaid me. “Where have you been, Lady Grace? The Queen commands that you attend her in the garden. Get along with you now, and don't keep Her Majesty waiting,” she said, in her sing-song Welsh accent.
I hurried to find the Queen. She was sitting in a bower with the Earl of Leicester near her. He stared at me as if I had two heads, which made me nervous. The Queen had clearly told him that it had been me in the tree.
I explained how I had discovered John's body— and what I had done to the wheel of the cart—and the Queen listened with her head cocked on one side. When I finished with climbing the tree, she smiled. “I am very pleased with you, Grace, and with your efforts,” she said, “though I feel that climbing a tree like a tumbler is rather too dangerous for a Maid of Honour. Please do not take such risks in future.”
I looked at the ground in embarrassment.
The Queen went on. “I have already righted some of the wrongs thai John Hull caused,” she told me. And I confess I had to blink back tears at the mention of his name, because it grieves me to think that such a nice young man, with such lively blue eyes, should have wound up dead in a cart for trying to help his lord.
I realized the Queen was still talking and forced myself to concentrate on what she was saying. “Sam Ledbury is returned to his proper duties in the stable, though never have we had a tidier dungheap!” she remarked. “And Master Herron, the firework master, has been paid, and he shall have more work at the Accession Day Tilts.” She paused, turned to the Earl of Leicester and whispered in his ear. The Earl bowed and moved away towards the stables.
The Queen held out her hand and took mine in hers. “I am sorry that your friendship with young John should end so sadly,” she said softly. “And sorry that he should have been led into such wrongdoing, when he was not, I think, bad at heart. But do not be downcast, Grace. Not all young men have such poor manners as to be traitors in very truth.”
I smiled back at her. “At least there will be no more deliberate accidents,” I said. “And you will not marry the Swedish Prince and break my lord the Earl's heart.”
“Do you think I would break his heart?” the Queen asked wistfully.
“Oh, yes, Your Majesty—you should have seen how he was looking at you when you danced in disguise at the masque.”
She paused for a long time before she spoke again, and I could hardly hear her voice or see her expression, for her face was turned away and shadowed by the bower. “I did see,” she said quietly.
Then the Queen shook herself, smiled, and stood, smoothing out her skirts. At her gesture, I picked up her train and followed her out of the garden.
“Another successful discovery of miscreants and ill-doers by my Lady Pursuivant,” said the Queen, smiling at me again. “Whatever did I do before I had you to investigate for me, Grace?”
Usually, nothing makes me happier than when the Queen praises me, but I was feeling miserable and somehow even her kind words could not lift my spirits—especially as she then sent me straight back to the Maids' chamber to help the others pack, since I had finished my own.
I hurried up the stairs to find that the men of the Removing Wardrobe were there, waiting for all the chests and boxes, while Lady Sarah and Lady Jane argued over whose fault it was neither of them had a complete pair of riding boots. Carmina was looking for a hat she had lost, and I helped Olwen and Ellie, by sitting on Lady Sarah's chest of clothes to make it shut.
Ellie was very kind and kept offering to bring me things—I think she could see how unhappy I was feeling. It saddens me that John came to such a sorry end, and I feel it will be some time before I am quite restored to my usual spirits. But I am glad that at least Her Majesty did not think John was entirely wicked. I wish he hadn't been using me, though….
It is most surprising!
Lady Sarah just came over to whisper to me. “I'm so sorry about John,” she hissed. “Even though he was a traitor, I'm sure he liked you really. He carried you all the way up the stairs, didn't he?”
I smiled gratefully at her because I did not really know what to say—it is very unlike Sarah to be so thoughtful, and her words cheered me greatly. I am very pleased that she thinks John was not just using me, for she knows a thing or two about young gentlemen.
And now I must put my daybooke away in my embroidery bag. We are going to the next great house, where there will be hardly any entertainments and no speeches—which is such a relief.
GLOSSARY
Army Virtuous, Barque Perilous, Black Knight of Melancholy, and Giant Melancholy are all names, invented by the writer, for the masque taking place as part of the Earl of Leicester's entertainments for the Queen. These are the kinds of names that would have been used in plays and masques of the time. The fancy names were inspired by the hugely popular romantic novels of the period. These stories usually featured knights in armor rescuing damsels in distress. So the names and terms used in Conspiracy are basically poetic names for characters and things in the play. Thus the Black Knight of Melancholy would have simply been a sad knight who always wore black, the Barque Perilous would have been a dangerous ship, etc.
ambler—a horse that moves along very slowly
aqua vitae—brandy Arcadia—a paradisal location often featured in Greek pastoral poetry
banket—an alternative word for a banquet
battledore—a light flat bat or racquet
Bedlam—the major asylum for the insane in London during Elizabethan times—the name came from Bethlehem Hospital
Bergomask—a rustic dance
biggin cap—a child's hat
bodice—the top part of a woman's dress
brocade—a rich, gold-embroidered fabric
bum—bottom
cant—slang
caparison—decorative trappings for a horse
cavalcade—a procession on horseback
Chamberer—a servant of the Queen who cleaned her chamber for her—which the Maids of Honour and Ladies-in-Waiting, of course, could not be expected to do
Cloth of Estate—a kind of awning that went over the Queen's chair to indicate that she was the Queen
cloth of silver/gold—cloth, woven from silk thread that had been, wrapped in fine gold or silver wire
comfrey—an herb
coppice—a thicket of trees, or a copse
damask—a beautiful, self-patterned silk cloth woven in Flanders. It originally came from Damascus—hence the name.
daybooke—a book in which you would record your sins each day so that you could pray about them. The idea of keeping a diary or journal grew out of this. Grace is using hers as a journal.
distempered-—disordered, deranged
doublet—a close-fitting padded jacket worn by men
dryad—a wood nymph
en plein air—out of doors
falling-band collar—an ordinary collar as opposed to a fancy one. In fact, the ordinary shirt collars seen today are falling-band collars.
Farandole Snail Shell—a movement in a particular French dance known as the Farandole
faun—a half-goat, half-man deity of the fields in classical mythology
fire pot—a clay pot, filled with material that would easily catch fire, used to carry hot
coals
fletching—the feathers on an arrow
forepart—the part of a garment that covers the chest
French War—the ongoing religious war between the Catholics and the Protestants in France. Occasionally, the English got involved in the fighting for political reasons.
Galliard—a sixteenth-century dance harbinger—somebody who went ahead to announce the monarch
heal-all—a medicinal plant
henchman—a young serving man, often related to the person he was serving. His work might well involve bodyguard duties.
hose—tight-fitting cloth trousers worn by men
house-poet—a poet who lived in a noble's house and wrote poetry for him. Many nobles chose to support poets and playwrights on their staff as a way of showing off their wealth.
in earnest of—to show the sincerity of
jerkin—a close-fitting, hip-length, usually sleeveless jacket
kirtle— the skirt section of an Elizabethan dress
kissing-comfit—a spice, such as caraway, fennel, or aniseed, which was covered in sugar and eaten to make one's breath smell pleasant
Lady-in-Waiting— one of the ladies who helped to look after the Queen and kept her company
laudanum—an opium tincture in alcohol used to aid sleep
lymer—a bloodhound
madrigals—beautiful part-songs, which were very fashionable Maid of Honour—a younger girl who helped to look after the Queen like a Lady-in-Waiting
manchet rolls—whole white bread
marchpane subtlety—a sculpture made out of marzipan and then colored
marmelada—a very thick jammy sweet often made from quinces
Mary Shelton—one of Queen Elizabeth's Maids of Honour (a Maid of Honour of this name really did exist; see below). Most Maids of Honour were not officially “ladies” (like Lady Grace), but they had to be of born of gentry.
masque—a masquerade, a masked ball
mead—an alcoholic drink made with honey
megrim—a migraine headache
mumming—acting
naiad—a water nymph
on progress—a term used when the Queen was touring parts of her realm. It was a kind of summer holiday for her.
Ordnancer—a supplier of military equipment, particularly firearms
palfrey—a horse ridden for pleasure, rather than into battle
palliasse—a thin mattress parlour—a room off the hall that was just beginning to be used for eating, among other things
penner—a small leather case that could be attached to a belt. It was used for holding quills, ink, knife. and any other equipment needed for writing.
pillion seat—a saddle for a woman that included a soft cushion
plague—a virulent disease that killed thousands
posset—a hot drink made from sweetened and spiced milk curdled with ale or wine
prigged—stole
Puck—a mischievous spirit
pursuivant—one who pursues someone else
Queen's favour—an item of the Queen's, worn to show that she favored the wearer to win a contest
Queen's Guard—these were more commonly known as the Gentlemen Pensioners—-young noblemen who guarded the Queen from physical attacks
sarsenet—Asian thin silk
Secretary Cecil—William Cecil, an administrator for the Queen (later made Lord Burghley)
shawm—a wind instrument
shift—a polite name for a smock
smock—a neck-to-ankles linen shirt worn by women
stays—the boned, laced bodice worn around the body under the clothes. Victorians called it a corset.
stews—public baths
sugar plate—sugar candy that could be molded like modeling clay, then dried and colored
sward, greensward—lawn, grass-covered soil
sweetmeats—sweets
taffety—taffeta fabric
ten-day-old urine—ten-day-old urine was used in the laundry for removing stubborn stains!
tertian fever—a fever that recurred every third day
tester—the frame of the bed canopy
tilting plate—armor worn for jousting
Tilting Yard—an area where knights in armor would joust, or tilt (i.e., ride at each other on horseback with lances)
tiring woman—a woman who helped a lady to dress
truckle bed—a small bed on wheels stored under the main bed
tumbler—an acrobat
unguent—a salve or ointment
veney—a bout or round of sword-fighting
Volta—a sixteenth-century dance very popular with Queen Elizabeth I
A NOTE ABOUT ROYAL PROGRESSES
Every summer Queen Elizabeth I went on progress—a sort of summer vacation for the Court combined with a royal “walkabout.” She would set off in mid-July and the progress would continue until mid-September. During this time, the Privy Counselors would follow the Queen around, meeting her as and when they could.
One reason for the progress was to keep the Queen and most of the Court out of London during the worst months of plague. It was also the only chance most of Elizabeth's subjects had of seeing their Queen at all—no TV, remember, no People magazine, and no photographs, either.
The Queen would stay with her noblemen, riding in procession from one big country mansion to another, stopping at the houses of lesser gentlemen to eat on the way. With her would go most of the Court and their baggage train—consisting of about three hundred carts! It would take almost the whole day for the procession to pass through one place.
Playing host to the Queen was a great honor-some of her courtiers nearly bankrupted themselves in their attempts to build houses big enough to support the Queen's entourage and to provide suitable entertainments. However, others were less eager. There was supposedly one gentleman who, on hearing that the Queen planned to visit him, shut up his house and left the county so she couldn't!
Although the Queen saved money by eating at the expense of her lucky hosts, she spent about £2000 more than she saved, on transport costs—especially if she changed her mind about where she wanted to go on the morning she was due to leave, which she very often did.
THE FACT BEHIND THE FICTION
In 1485, Queen Elizabeth Ps grandfather, Henry Tudor, won the battle of Bosworth Field against Richard III and took the throne of England. He was known as Henry VII. He had two sons, Arthur and Henry. Arthur died while still a boy, so when Henry VII died in 1509, Elizabeth's father came to the throne and England got an eighth king called Henry—the notorious one who had six wives.
Wife number one—Catherine of Aragon—gave Henry one daughter called Mary (who was brought up as a Catholic) but no living sons. To Henry VIII this was a disaster, because nobody believed a queen could ever govern England. He needed a male heir.
Henry wanted to divorce Catherine so he could marry his pregnant mistress, Anne Boleyn. The Pope, the head of the Catholic Church, wouldn't allow him to annul his marriage, so Henry broke with the Catholic Church and set up the Protestant Church of England—or the Episcopal Church, as it's known in the United States.
Wife number two—Anne Boleyn—gave Henry another daughter, Elizabeth (who was brought up as a Protestant). When Anne then miscarried a baby boy, Henry decided he'd better get somebody new, so he accused Anne of infidelity and had her executed.
Wife number three—Jane Seymour—gave Henry a son called Edward and died of childbed fever a couple of weeks later.
Wife tiumber four—Anne of Cleves—had no children. It was a diplomatic marriage and Henry didn't fancy her, so she agreed to a divorce (wouldn't you?).
Wife number five—Catherine Howard—had no children, either. Like Anne Boleyn, she was accused of infidelity and executed.
Wife number six—Catherine Parr—also had no children. She did manage to outlive Henry, though, but only by the skin of her teeth. Nice guy, eh?
Henry VIII died in 1547, and in accordance with the rules of
primogeniture (whereby the firstborn son inherits from his father), the person who succeeded him was the boy Edward. He became Edward VI. He was strongly Protestant but died young, in 1553.
Next came Catherine of Aragon's daughter, Mary, who became Mary I, known as Bloody Mary. She was strongly Catholic, married Philip II of Spain in a diplomatic match, but died childless five years later. She also burned a lot of Protestants for the good of their souls.
Finally, in 1558, Elizabeth came to the throne. She reigned until her death in 1603. She played the marriage game—that is, she kept a lot of important and influential men hanging on in hopes of marrying her—for a long time. At one time it looked as if she would marry her favorite, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester. She didn't, though, and I think she probably never intended to get married—would you, if you'd had a dad like hers? So she never had any children.
She was an extraordinary and brilliant woman, and during her reign, England first started to become important as a world power. Sir Francis Drake sailed round the world—raiding the Spanish colonies of South America for loot as he went. And one of Elizabeth's favorite courtiers, Sir Walter Raleigh, tried to plant the first English colony in North America—at the site of Roanoke in 1585. It failed, but the idea stuck.
The Spanish King Philip II tried to conquer England in 1588. He sent a huge fleet of 150 ships, known as the Invincible Armada, to do it. It failed miserably—defeated by Drake at the head of the English fleet—and most of the ships were wrecked trying to sail home. There were many other great Elizabethans, too—including William Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe.
After her death, Elizabeth was succeeded by James VI of Scotland, who became James I of England and Scotland. He was almost the last eligible person available! He was the son of Mary, Queen of Scots, who was Elizabeth's cousin, via Henry VIIPs sister.
James's son was Charles I—the king who was beheaded after losing the English Civil War.
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