by Georgina Lee
“M’lady, please return below; it is not safe for you to be here.”
“ I am surrendering; all is lost. Please tell your captain.”
He knew it was the only real choice left, and nodded in acknowledgement. We watched as he approached Captain Corve, who glanced at us before giving the order to cease firing, and there was an uneasy silence as all the noise suddenly stopped. The smoke cleared and everyone looked at me, then a voice was heard from the boat, strong and in control.
“This is the captain of the Adventure. We are here on the command of King James to arrest the Lady Arbella Seymour and take control of your vessel. Lower your sails at once and drop anchor, we are boarding.”
Corve nodded to his sailors, who were now standing like statues. I put my hand on his arm, my tears not far away.
“Thank you for your brave efforts, captain.”
“It has been my honour to serve you, my lady. I am only sorry that we have not been successful” he replied.
I could see he was genuinely disappointed, not just for me, but for himself and his crew. Now he would most likely be imprisoned. We watched helplessly as the king’s party boarded. Mrs B. put a cloak around my shoulders; I had forgotten it in the confusion. My escape had failed and once again I was a prisoner. The captain of the Adventure strode over to us and he could not hide the triumph in his eyes.
“My name is Captain Cockett and I am taking command of your ship. Your attempt to flee from us will be reported to our king,” he told Corve, who regarded him in silence. “My orders are to seize you and your ship and bring you back to Sheppy.”
He then turned to me and bowed.
“ As for you, Lady Arbella, you will also return to Sheppy whilst I await further orders.”
There was nothing I could say and I followed him meekly to disembark. Corve, Crompton, Markham and Mrs B. were all rowed across to the Adventure with me. Once aboard, we were formally arrested on deck, the men handled roughly by the soldiers and put down below, away from Mrs B. and myself.
“We are unarmed!” Crompton protested, but no one answered him.
Captain Cockett shouted orders for the ship to head back towards London before he turned his attention to us. He was a tall, heavily built man of about 40 years, a weather-beaten sailor with sunburnt skin and large features.
“I assume you must be companion to her ladyship. Mrs Bradshaw is it?”
She confirmed her identity, and he nodded before striding off abruptly and climbing the steps to the bridge, leaving us with one of the sailors.
“My name is John Peppard, the First Mate, please follow me,” he said.
Docile and weary, we descended some steep wooden steps, past a cross looking chef working in the galley and some empty hammocks before he paused at a low door.
“This is the captain’s own cabin, which he has given permission for you to use.”
We stepped into a pleasant area with a large porthole shaped as a window, which gave some welcome light. There was a desk and a couple of chairs, which he hastily rearranged for us. On the walls there were charts of different ports and a globe on the side table, together with decanters of wine and rum.
“No doubt you are in need of some refreshment, shall I have some brought to you?”
I could not answer, but sat silently staring at the floor. My reserves were all used up and I had nothing left. I just wanted to sleep. Mrs B. replied that would be most welcome and thanked him. We were then left alone, but I heard him talking to someone outside the door and guessed that we were to be guarded in case I was tempted to do something like throw myself overboard. It seemed they had thought of everything.
“I am so sorry, m’lady.” Mrs B’s voice was breaking with emotion.
“No, it is I who should be apologising. I am the one who has brought us all to this.”
“We did our best; there will be other opportunities.”
I shook my head and gazed through the porthole, hoping to see...what? A ship bearing William? No, I still did not know where my husband was, and at least now we were returning, I might be able to find out exactly what had happened. The uncertainty gnawed away at me, for all I knew he could be dead, shot by an over zealous soldier or guard.
John returned after a few minutes with a tray and placed it on the table.
“It may not be what you are used to m’lady, but I hope it will give you some sustenance.”
With a look of intense curiosity, he bowed again and shut the door behind him. We picked at some hard bread and salt fish, neither of us could eat very much.
“You had better get some rest, m’lady. When we land, we do not know what sort of reception we shall receive.”
Mrs B. was right of course and we tried to make ourselves comfortable. The wind had picked up once more and now the ship seemed to be making better headway. I was utterly dejected and could only sit in a daze beside Mrs B, who had fallen asleep. John returned after a while to collect the tray.
“Is there anything else I can get you, m’lady?” he asked.
I shook my head and he paused in the doorway.
“We should be there in a few hours,” he said.
“Do you know where I am being taken?”
“To Sheppy as the captain said, but...” he hesitated. “I have heard talk of the Tower.”
He turned quickly and left, closing the door behind him. Now I was really afraid.
As we retraced our journey that night, trying to get some sleep in those unfamiliar surroundings whilst returning to London, I told myself that I would surely be allowed to see the king and plead my case. I would beg on my knees, yes, for forgiveness as the hateful Lady Anne had advised, if necessary. I would do anything to be with William. I must not give up hope. We dozed as the ship carried us to our destination, and I got up now and again to look through the porthole. I could just make out the flat landmass of Essex to our starboard. Then all too soon, the commotion above us increased as they prepared to dock. We had arrived.
John opened the door and we looked at him expectantly.
“We have arrived in Sheppy m’lady. You are to remain here for the moment. The captain says he is unwilling for you to go ashore until he has further orders, but he will ensure that you are treated with honour and will want for nothing under his care.”
Despite this rather gallant speech, Mrs B. and I waited in the stuffy cabin all day, with no word from anyone. I developed a headache and closed my eyes, while on the quayside we could hear fragments of conversations as various men came and went. Food and drink were brought to us, but I could not swallow a morsel. We had no books, sewing or cards, nothing to pass the time. Mrs B. studied the globe and exclaimed at the different destinations to me, but I had little interest in it and eventually I asked her to cease.
“I am sorry m’lady, I was trying to take your mind off other matters,” she said.
The hours passed slowly, our minds became numb with worry.
Captain Cockett eventually appeared at dusk to tell us that his orders were to continue towards London at once. He looked anxious and under strain, now clearly uncomfortable with the responsibility of our safekeeping.
“And where is to be our final destination?” I asked.
“It is the Tower of London, they are waiting for you as we speak.”
Mrs B. and I exchanged glances and I gripped the side of my chair. Was it possible that William had been captured and taken back there? Maybe I would see him sooner than I thought.
“We are to carry on, although it is so late?”
“I expect us to reach there just before midnight. In a moment, you will be moved to a barge for the remainder of the journey.”
With that, he left us, and Mrs B. leant forward to touch my arm in a gesture of comfort.
“It will be all right, my dear friend.”
“Will it?” I could only reply with a heavy heart.
So we disembarked the Adventure, and although I looked for the others, there was no sign of them. We were
surrounded by guards during the transfer, and I found it hard to maintain my dignity, but tried to hold my head high, no matter what happened. A short walk led us to a waiting barge, with more armed guards; his majesty was not taking any chances. Once again, we were taken below, out of sight and kept secure.
As we sat quietly by the porthole, we waited silently and with great trepidation. The river was quite busy and our progress was slower, as we had to avoid the many little boats and wherrys that were ferrying passengers. All too soon, the forbidding sight of the Tower of London loomed into view and I gave an involuntary gasp. A guard appeared to escort us on deck, where we sat as the barge was moored up and secured. Now we were here, the reality of my situation was all too clear. This was not a nightmare, but really happening to me.
On the quayside there were more guards waiting for us. They stood impassively, their faces in shadow from the wall lanterns. Captain Cockett left the barge in a giant stride and exchanged words with them. At least I had not been brought to the infamous Traitor’s Gate. After a few minutes, the Captain returned on board and came over to us.
“Your journey is over, Lady Arbella. I must hand you over to the Constable; my men will help you to disembark.”
Two sailors offered their hands to us as we stepped on to land once more. John stood by the gangway and gave me an encouraging smile, which did lift my spirits momentarily. A man stepped forward to greet me, dressed in black and bowed. His expression gave nothing away, but I thought I could detect a slight embarrassment in his manner to be receiving me under such circumstances. Or perhaps I was being fanciful, I hardly knew any more.
He spoke to me and introduced himself, but his words seemed far away and unreal; I may have replied, but I would not swear to it. I cannot remember if I asked if William was here. All I could do was cling to Mrs B. as we followed him inside, along dark, stone passages with narrow, high windows, up winding staircases and then outside again. I looked up and wondered if I should see the sky in freedom again. Eventually we stopped at a large oak door and he unlocked it with a loud click.
As I stepped over the threshold, I felt myself suffocating with all the unhappy events I had endured over the last few days and darkness overwhelmed me, I remember nothing else.
My beloved wife,
My sadness and disappointment are so great, but I imagine no greater than your own. Our plan to be together this time has come to nought, and with hindsight, we should have thought of what to do if one of us had not been in the expected place at the appointed time, for we missed one another by only hours. Edward and I are safe here in Ostend, so do not concern yourself with my welfare, but concentrate on your own health, which is dearer to me than mine own. I will not be able to return to England for some time, if ever, and I fear I shall have to swear to have no further contact with you. You must understand this is something I would do only under extreme pressure and with great reluctance, but your safety and future is my priority. His majesty’s fury knows no bounds, I believe quite out of proportion to our actions. My grandfather is distraught and I do confess at feeling some guilt at causing his distress, given his advancing years and ailing health. He has made it very clear to me that on no account will he intercede for us with the king, so afraid is he of causing his majesty’s displeasure.
But we must never give up, dearest Arbella. With God’s help, we shall find a way to be together and we must pray that the king shows graciousness and leniency towards us, as we surely have never sought to displease him in any way.
I think about you each day and will continue to do so. I have been strongly advised that to write further to you would be very unwise and the king would see it as a provocative act. Do not believe I have forsaken our future, I am trying to do what is best for you and it breaks my heart.
Witten this day xi July 1611 from your ever loving husband, William.
So this is where my story began; now you know how I have found myself in the Tower. Writing all this down has taken me many months. Since arriving here, I have only received this one short letter from him, which I carry next to my heart at all times. Thank God he is free and still has Edward Rodney by his side. I am beginning to find that my writing no longer occupies me as it once did, sometimes I have little patience for it and nothing happens to cheer me.
But I am slowly adjusting to this life and we have established a routine. Usually meals are served punctually and I am permitted certain privileges: my own food, some items of furniture, carpets and bedding. All the extra items from my house in Blackfriars that were brought to William’s chambers have been carried over to me, and I find some comfort in the fact that he has recently used them. Each day I try to have some fresh air and a walk in the Privy Garden, but sometimes I am not strong enough. Books have been delivered at my request and I have a plentiful supply of quills and paper to write. I try to be calm and stoic, but my nature is the opposite, which I cannot help. I remember William mentioning the bribery that goes on between the prisoners and jailors, but I had not realised until now how prevalent it is.
If you are prepared to put your hand in your purse, you can buy anything; the most sought after items are tobacco and better food, tobacco is particularly expensive. I do not smoke, unlike many of the guards, and all of them ask for enough money to purchase a constant supply. It also costs to have letters brought and sent, as well as the company of visitors. It pains me that so few of my so-called ‘friends’ have been to visit me. How quickly they have disappeared, so afraid of being tainted by me; but to those that have remained steadfast, I am eternally grateful.
I learnt within days that Crompton has been placed in the Fleet prison with Markham and the doctors who attended me. Aunt Mary was also arrested and resides somewhere within these walls. I hope to be allowed to see her, but Sir William has told me it may not be possible, although we do communicate by secret letters, via the guards. I am sure Sir William is aware of this, but has decided to permit it. Maybe he is human after all and has a small amount of sympathy for my plight. But within a short space of time, I am faced with another challenge, which I should have known was not entirely unexpected.
One morning, about two months after we arrived, I woke up feeling very nauseous and had to reach quickly for a bowl. The retching went on for a few minutes, and Mrs B. fussed over me with cloths to wipe my face and ushered me back to bed.
“I feel awful,” I told her. “It must have been that stew we ate last night.”
Mrs B. looked at me with a strange expression on her face.
“What is it?” I demanded.
“My lady, when was your last monthly bleed?”
“What month are we now?”
“October.”
“It was just before I saw my husband for the last time.”
She raised her eyebrows, but I still did not understand.
“You must be with child,” she told me, her voice a mixture of pride and satisfaction. “They will not keep you here now if you are expecting a baby.” She held up her fingers to count the months.
“I estimate it is due in the spring. You must tell them at once.”
I instinctively felt my stomach, which felt just the same.
“No!” I put my hand up in a gesture of protest. “Not yet. I am not sure if it is the best course. I need to think.”
She nodded and tucked me in gently, telling me to rest.
If only my dear William was here, he would know what to do. I lay in bed that morning, day dreaming about my baby and the three of us. I would write a hasty letter to him as soon as I felt well enough. Meanwhile the sickness and nausea did not leave me. It got worse and left me exhausted, I could not leave my bed. Dr Hammond, Crompton and the others were released from prison and the doctor returned to attend me, but of course I was unable to hide my condition from him. The man looked terrified when he realised the cause of my symptoms.
“This is very serious my lady, the king will have to be told. I...I cannot hide it from him.”
“I beg
you, good doctor, please do not say anything yet. First I must let my husband know and we shall decide what to do for the best.”
“If his majesty will find out from another source, it will be the worst for both of us. And you are not strong, a pregnancy will put a huge strain on your body.” He shook his head and sat down beside me. “Ladies of your delicate disposition should not marry.”
“That is nonsense,” I replied, holding on to my temper.
“Lady Arbella, your health is of grave concern to me, but I must tell you that I do not think you will be able to cope with a pregnancy. You have many more months to go and look at you now: bedridden, losing weight, exhausted and vomiting all the time. The Constable of the Tower is very concerned for you and it will not be long before he guesses the cause of your latest malady.”
“This will not last, I shall feel better soon. You exaggerate.”
I tried to sit up as if to prove my point, but the nausea was overwhelming and I was forced to retch once more into a basin.
“I will prepare a herbal remedy for you and you must try to keep some liquid down. The broth is very nutritious and you must have it on the hour.”
I nodded miserably as Mrs B. wiped my face.
“I will return tomorrow, but if you are not better within the week, I shall be forced to tell the king.”
“But you will say nothing for the moment, not to anyone? Do you promise?”
“For the moment, my lady,” he replied and picked up his bag before bowing and leaving me.
I could not tell him that the smell of the broth repulsed me, and within an hour of trying to take some, once again I was sick. Lying in bed gave me time to think about my condition. If the king should discover my pregnancy, he would certainly not be very sympathetic, as this was the very event he wished to avoid. My baby could be taken from me, which is something I could not contemplate. Mrs B. told me that there have been other women who have given birth here in the Tower, William’s grandmother amongst them, so it is certainly not unheard of. But such events were not accomplished smoothly without the inevitable bribes, and there was very little money left now. The king continued to pay my pension, but I did not know how long he would do so.