Unknown to History: A Story of the Captivity of Mary of Scotland

by Charlotte M. Yonge

  CHAPTER IV.

  THE OAK AND THE OAKEN HALL.

  The oaks of Sheffield Park were one of the greatest glories of theplace. Giants of the forest stretched their huge arms over the turf,kept smooth and velvety by the creatures, wild and tame, that browsedon it, and made their covert in the deep glades of fern and copse woodthat formed the background.

  There were not a few whose huge trunks, of such girth that two mentogether could not encompass them with outstretched arms, rose to aheight of more than sixty feet before throwing out a horizontal branch,and these branches, almost trees in themselves, spread forty-eight feeton each side of the bole, lifting a mountain of rich verdure abovethem, and casting a delicious shade upon the ground beneath them.Beneath one of these noble trees, some years after the arrival of thehapless Mary Stuart, a party of children were playing, much to theamusement of an audience of which they were utterly unaware, namely, ofsundry members of a deer-hunting party; a lady and gentleman who,having become separated from the rest, were standing in the deepbracken, which rose nearly as high as their heads, and were furthersheltered by a rock, looking and listening.

  "Now then, Cis, bravely done! Show how she treats her ladies--"

  "Who will be her lady? Thou must, Humfrey!"

  "No, no, I'll never be a lady," said Humfrey gruffly.

  "Thou then, Diccon."

  "No, no," and the little fellow shrank back, "thou wilt hurt me, Cis."

  "Come then, do thou, Tony! I'll not strike too hard!"

  "As if a wench could strike too hard."

  "He might have turned that more chivalrously," whispered the lady toher companion. "What are they about to represent? Mort de ma vie, theprofane little imps! I, believe it is my sacred cousin, the Majesty ofEngland herself! Truly the little maid hath a bearing that might servea queen, though she be all too black and beetle-browed for QueenElizabeth. Who is she, Master Gilbert?"

  "She is Cicely Talbot, daughter to the gentleman porter of yourMajesty's lodge."

  "See to her--mark her little dignity with her heather and bluebellcrown as she sits on the rock, as stately as jewels could make her! Seeher gesture with her hands, to mark where the standing ruff ought tobe. She hath the true spirit of the Comedy--ah! and here cometh youngAntony with mincing pace, with a dock-leaf for a fan, and a mantle fora farthingale! She speaks! now hark!"

  "Good morrow to you, my young mistress," began a voice pitched twonotes higher than its actual childlike key. "Thou hast a newfarthingale, I see! O Antony, that's not the way to curtsey--do itlike this. No no! thou clumsy fellow--back and knees together."

  "Never mind, Cis," interposed one of the boys--"we shall lose all ourplay time if you try to make him do it with a grace. Curtsies arewomen's work--go on."

  "Where was I? O--" (resuming her dignity after these asides) "Thouhast a new farthingale, I see."

  "To do my poor honour to your Grace's birthday."

  "Oh ho! Is it so? Methought it had been to do honour to my fairmistress's own taper waist. And pray how much an ell was yonderbroidered stuff?"

  "Two crowns, an't please your Grace," returned the supposed lady,making a wild conjecture.

  "Two crowns! thou foolish Antony!" Then recollecting herself, "twocrowns! what, when mine costs but half! Thou presumptuous, lavishvarlet--no, no, wench! what right hast thou to wear gowns finer thanthy liege?--I'll teach you." Wherewith, erecting all her talons, andclawing frightfully with them in the air, the supposed Queen Bess leaptat the unfortunate maid of honour, appeared to tear the imaginary robe,and drove her victim on the stage with a great air of violence, amidpeals of laughter from the other children, loud enough to drown thoseof the elders, who could hardly restrain their merriment.

  Gilbert Talbot, however, had been looking about him anxiously all thetime, and would fain have moved away; but a sign from Queen Marywithheld him, as one of the children cried,

  "Now! show us how she serves her lords."

  The play seemed well understood between them, for the mimic queen againsettled herself on her throne, while Will Cavendish, calling out, "NowI'm Master Hatton," began to tread a stately measure on the grass,while the queen exclaimed, "Who is this new star of my court? Whatstalwart limbs, what graceful tread! Who art thou, sir?"

  "Madam, I am--I am. What is it? An ef--ef--"

  "A daddy-long-legs," mischievously suggested another of the group.

  "No, it's Latin. Is it Ephraim? No; it's a fly, something like agnat" (then at an impatient gesture from her Majesty) "disportingitself in the beams of the noontide sun."

  "Blood-sucking," whispered the real Queen behind the fern. "He is notso far out there. See! see! with what a grace the child holds out herlittle hand for him to kiss. I doubt me if Elizabeth herself could bemore stately. But who comes here?"

  "I'm Sir Philip Sydney."

  "No, no," shouted Humfrey, "Sir Philip shall not come into thisfooling. My father says he's the best knight in England."

  "He is as bad as the rest in flattery to the Queen," returned youngCavendish.

  "I'll not have it, I say. You may be Lord Leicester an you will! He'sbut Robin Dudley."

  "Ah!" began the lad, now advancing and shading his eyes. "Whatburnished splendour dazzles my weak sight? Is it a second Juno that Ibehold, or lovely Venus herself? Nay, there is a wisdom in her thatcan only belong to the great Minerva herself! So youthful too. Is itHebe descended to this earth?"

  Cis smirked, and held out a hand, saying in an affected tone, "LordEarl, are thy wits astray?"

  "Whose wits would not be perturbed at the mere sight of such exquisitebeauty?"

  "Come and sit at our feet, and we will try to restore them," said thestage queen; but here little Diccon, the youngest of the party, eagerfor more action, called out, "Show us how she treats her lords andladies together."

  On which young Babington, as the lady, and Humfrey, made demonstrationsof love-making and betrothal, upon which their sovereign lady descendedon them with furious tokens of indignation, abusing them right andleft, until in the midst the great castle bell pealed forth, and causeda flight general, being, in fact, the summons to the school kept in oneof the castle chambers by one Master Snigg, or Sniggius, for thechildren of the numerous colony who peopled the castle. Girls, as wellas boys, were taught there, and thus Cis accompanied Humfrey andDiccon, and consorted with their companions.

  Queen Mary was allowed to hunt and take out-of-door exercise in thepark whenever she pleased, but Lord Shrewsbury, or one of his sons,Gilbert and Francis, never was absent from her for a moment when shewent beyond the door of the lesser lodge, which the Earl had erectedfor her, with a flat, leaded, and parapeted roof, where she could takethe air, and with only one entrance, where was stationed a "gentlemanporter," with two subordinates, whose business it was to keep a closewatch over every person or thing that went in or out. If she had anypurpose of losing herself in the thickets of fern, or copsewood, in thepark, or holding unperceived conference under shelter of the chase,these plans were rendered impossible by the pertinacious presence ofone or other of the Talbots, who acted completely up to their name.

  Thus it was that the Queen, with Gilbert in close attendance, had foundherself an unseen spectator of the children's performance, which shewatched with the keen enjoyment that sometimes made her forget hertroubles for the moment.

  "How got the imps such knowledge?" mused Gilbert Talbot, as he led theQueen out on the sward which had been the theatre of their mimicry.

  "Do _you_ ask that, Sir Gilbert?" said the Queen with emphasis, forindeed it was his wife who had been the chief retailer of scandal aboutQueen Elizabeth, to the not unwilling ears of herself and his mother;and Antony Babington, as my lady's page, had but used his opportunities.

  "They are insolent varlets and deserve the rod," continued Gilbert.

  "You are too ready with the rod, you English," returned Mary. "Youflog all that is clever and spirited out of your poor children!"

  "Tha
t is the question, madam. Have the English been found so deficientin spirit compared with other nations?"

  "Ah! we all know what you English can say for yourselves," returned theQueen. "See what Master John Coke hath made of the herald's argumentbefore Dame Renown, in his translation. He hath twisted all the otherway."

  "Yea, madam, but the French herald had it all his own way before. Soit was but just we should have our turn."

  Here a cry from the other hunters greeted them, and they found LordShrewsbury, some of the ladies, and a number of prickers, lookinganxiously for them.

  "Here we are, good my lord," said the Queen, who, when free fromrheumatism, was a most active walker. "We have only been stalking mysister Queen's court in small, the prettiest and drollest pastime Ihave seen for many a long day."

  Much had happened in the course of the past years. The intrigues withNorthumberland and Norfolk, and the secret efforts of the unfortunateQueen to obtain friends, and stir up enemies against Elizabeth, hadresulted in her bonds being drawn closer and closer. The Rising of theNorth had taken place, and Cuthbert Langston had been heard of astaking a prominent part beneath the sacred banner, but he had beenwounded and not since heard of, and his kindred knew not whether hewere among the unnamed dead who loaded the trees in the rear of thearmy of Sussex, or whether he had escaped beyond seas. Richard Talbotstill remained as one of the trusted kinsmen of Lord Shrewsbury, onwhom that nobleman depended for the execution of the charge whichyearly became more wearisome and onerous, as hope decayed and plotsthickened.

  Though resident in the new lodge with her train, it was greatlydiminished by the dismissal from time to time of persons who wereregarded as suspicious; Mary still continued on intimate terms withLady Shrewsbury and her daughters, specially distinguishing with herfavour Bessie Pierrepoint, the eldest grandchild of the Countess, whoslept with her, and was her plaything and her pupil in French andneedlework. The fiction of her being guest and not prisoner had notentirely passed away; visitors were admitted, and she went in and outof the lodge, walked or rode at will, only under pretext of courtesy.She never was unaccompanied by the Earl or one of his sons, and theyendeavoured to make all private conversation with strangers, or personsunauthorised from Court, impossible to her.

  The invitation given to little Cicely on the arrival had not beenfollowed up. The Countess wished to reserve to her own family all thefavours of one who might at any moment become the Queen of England, andshe kept Susan Talbot and her children in what she called their meetplace, in which that good lady thoroughly acquiesced, having her handsmuch too full of household affairs to run after queens.

  There was a good deal of talk about this child's play, a thing whichhad much better have been left where it was; but in a seclusion likethat of Sheffield subjects of conversation were not over numerous, andevery topic which occurred was apt to be worried to shreds. So LadyShrewsbury and her daughters heard the Queen's arch description of thechildren's mimicry, and instantly conceived a desire to see the scenerepeated. The gentlemen did not like it at all: their loyalty wasoffended at the insult to her gracious Majesty, and besides, what mightnot happen if such sports ever came to her ears? However, the Countessruled Sheffield; and Mary Talbot and Bessie Cavendish ruled theCountess, and they were bent on their own way. So the representationwas to take place in the great hall of the manor-house, and the actorswere to be dressed in character from my lady's stores.

  "They will ruin it, these clumsy English, after their own fashion,"said Queen Mary, among her ladies. "It was the unpremeditated graceand innocent audacity of the little ones that gave the charm. Now itwill be a mere broad farce, worthy of Bess of Hardwicke. Mais quevoulez vous?"

  The performance was, however, laid under a great disadvantage by theabsolute refusal of Richard and Susan Talbot to allow their Cicely toassume the part of Queen Elizabeth. They had been dismayed at herdoing so in child's play, and since she could read fluently, writepretty well, and cipher a little, the good mother had decided to put astop to this free association with the boys at the castle, and to keepher at home to study needlework and housewifery. As to her acting withboys before the assembled households, the proposal seemed to themabsolutely insulting to any daughter of the Talbot line, and they hadby this time forgotten that she was no such thing. Bess Cavendish, thespecial spoilt child of the house, even rode down, armed with hermother's commands, but her feudal feeling did not here sway MistressSusan.

  Public acting was esteemed an indignity for women, and, though Cis wasa mere child, all Susan's womanhood awoke, and she made answer firmlythat she could not obey my lady Countess in this.

  Bess flounced out of the house, indignantly telling her she should ruethe day, and Cis herself cried passionately, longing after the finerobes and jewels, and the presentation of herself as a queen before thewhole company of the castle. The harsh system of the time made thegood mother think it her duty to requite this rebellion with the rod,and to set the child down to her seam in the corner, and there sat Cis,pouting and brooding over what Antony Babington had told her of what hehad picked up when in his page's capacity, attending his lady, of QueenMary's admiration of the pretty ways and airs of the little mimic QueenBess, till she felt as if she were defrauded of her due. The captiveQueen was her dream, and to hear her commendations, perhaps be kissedby her, would be supreme bliss. Nay, she still hoped that there wouldbe an interference of the higher powers on her behalf, which would giveher a triumph.

  No! Captain Talbot came home, saying, "So, Mistress Sue, thou art asteadfast woman, to have resisted my lady's will!"

  "I knew, my good husband, that thou wouldst never see our Cis even insport a player!"

  "Assuredly not, and thou hadst the best of it, for when Mistress Besscame in as full of wrath as a petard of powder, and made your refusalknown, my lord himself cried out, 'And she's in the right o't! What achild may do in sport is not fit for a gentlewoman in earnest.'"

  "Then, hath not my lord put a stop to the whole?"

  "Fain would he do so, but the Countess and her daughters are set oncarrying out the sport. They have set Master Sniggius to indite thespeeches, and the boys of the school are to take the parts for theirautumn interlude."

  "Surely that is perilous, should it come to the knowledge of those atCourt."

  "Oh, I promise you, Sniggius hath a device for disguising all thatcould give offence. The Queen will become Semiramis or Zenobia, I knownot which, and my Lord of Leicester, Master Hatton, and the others,will be called Ninus or Longinus, or some such heathenish long-tailedterms, and speak speeches of mighty length. Are they to be in Latin,Humfrey?"

  "Oh no, sir," said Humfrey, with a shudder. "Master Sniggius wouldhave had them so, but the young ladies said they would have nothing todo with the affair if there were one word of Latin uttered. It is badenough as it is. I am to be Philidaspes, an Assyrian knight, and havesome speeches to learn, at least one is twenty-five lines, and not oneis less than five!"

  "A right requital for thy presumptuous and treasonable game, my son,"said his father, teasing him.

  "And who is to be the Queen?" asked the mother.

  "Antony Babington," said Humfrey, "because he can amble and mince morelike a wench than any of us. The worse luck for him. He will havemore speeches than any one of us to learn."

  The report of the number of speeches to be learnt took off the sting ofCis's disappointment, though she would not allow that it did so,declaring with truth that she could learn by hearing faster than any ofthe boys. Indeed, she did learn all Humfrey's speeches, and Antony'sto boot, and assisted both of them with all her might in committingthem to memory.

  As Captain Talbot had foretold, the boys' sport was quite sufficientlypunished by being made into earnest. Master Sniggius was far frommerciful as to length, and his satire was so extremely remote thatQueen Elizabeth herself could hardly have found out that Zenobia's finemoral lecture on the vanities of too aspiring ruffs was founded on thebox on the ear which rewarded
poor Lady Mary Howard's display of herrich petticoat, nor would her cheeks have tingled when the Queen of theEast--by a bold adaptation--played the part of Lion in interrupting theinterview of our old friends Pyramus and Thisbe, who, by an awfulanachronism, were carried to Palmyra. It was no plagiarism from"Midsummer Night's Dream," only drawn from the common stock ofplaywrights.

  So, shorn of all that was perilous, and only understood by theinitiated, the play took place in the Castle Hall, the largestavailable place, with Queen Mary seated upon the dais, with a canopy ofState over her head, Lady Shrewsbury on a chair nearly as high, theEarl, the gentlemen and ladies of their suites drawn up in a circle,the servants where they could, the Earl's musicians thundering withdrums, tooting with fifes, twanging on fiddles, overhead in a gallery.Cis and Diccon, on either side of Susan Talbot, gazing on the stage,where, much encumbered by hoop and farthingale, and arrayed in a yellowcurled wig, strutted forth Antony Babington, declaiming--

  "Great Queen Zenobia am I, The Roman Power I defy. At my Palmyra, in the East, I rule o'er every man and beast"

  Here was an allusion couched in the Roman power, which Master Antonyhad missed, or he would hardly have uttered it, since he was of a RomanCatholic family, though, while in the Earl's household, he had toconform outwardly.

  A slender, scholarly lad, with a pretty, innocent face, and a voicethat could "speak small, like a woman," came in and announced himselfthus--

  "I'm Thisbe, an Assyrian maid, My robe's with jewels overlaid."

  The stiff colloquy between the two boys, encumbered with their dresses,shy and awkward, and rehearsing their lines like a task, was no smallcontrast to the merry impromptu under the oak, and the gay, free graceof the children.

  Poor Philidaspes acquitted himself worst of all, for when done up in aglittering suit of sham armour, with a sword and dagger of lath, hisentire speech, though well conned, deserted him, and he stoodred-faced, hesitating, and ready to cry, when suddenly from the midstof the spectators there issued a childish voice, "Go on, Humfrey!

  "Philidaspes am I, most valorous knight, Ever ready for Church and Queen to fight.

  "Go on, I say!" and she gave a little stamp of impatience, to theextreme confusion of the mother and the great amusement of theassembled company. Humfrey, once started, delivered himself of therest of his oration in a glum and droning voice, occasioning fits oflaughter, such as by no means added to his self-possession.

  The excellent Sniggius and his company of boys had certainly, whetherintentionally or not, deprived the performance of all its personalsting, and most likewise of its interest. Such diversion as thespectators derived was such as Hippolyta seems to have found inlistening to Wall, Lion, Moonshine and Co.; but, like Theseus, LordShrewsbury was very courteous, and complimented both playwright andactors, relieved and thankful, no doubt, that Queen Zenobia was sounlike his royal mistress.

  There was nothing so much enforced by Queen Elizabeth as that strangersshould not have resort to Sheffield Castle. No spectators, exceptthose attached to the household, and actually forming part of thecolony within the park, were therefore supposed to be admitted, and allof them were carefully kept at a distant part of the hall, where theycould have no access to the now much reduced train of the ScottishQueen, with whom all intercourse was forbidden.

  Humfrey was therefore surprised when, just as he had come out of thetiring-room, glad to divest himself of his encumbering and gaudyequipments, a man touched him on the arm and humbly said, "Sir, I havea humble entreaty to make of you. If you would convey my petition tothe Queen of Scots!"

  "I have nothing to do with the Queen of Scots," said theex-Philidaspes, glancing suspiciously at the man's sleeve, where,however, he saw the silver dog, the family badge.

  "She is a charitable lady," continued the man, who looked like a groom,"and if she only knew that my poor old aunt is lying famishing, shewould aid her. Pray you, good my lord, help me to let this scrollreach to her."

  "I'm no lord, and I have naught to do with the Queen," repeatedHumfrey, while at the same moment Antony, who had been rather longer ingetting out of his female attire, presented himself; and Humfrey,pitying the man's distress, said, "This young gentleman is theCountess's page. He sometimes sees the Queen."

  The man eagerly told his story, how his aunt, the widow of a huckster,had gone on with the trade till she had been cruelly robbed and beaten,and now was utterly destitute, needing aid to set herself up again.The Queen of Scots was noted for her beneficent almsgiving, and a fewsilver pieces from her would be quite sufficient to replenish herbasket.

  Neither boy doubted a moment. Antony had the entree to the presencechamber, where on this festival night the Earl and Countess were sureto be with the Queen. He went straightway thither, and trained as hewas in the usages of the place, told his business to the Earl, who wasseated near the Queen. Lord Shrewsbury took the petition from him,glanced it over, and asked, "Who knew the Guy Norman who sent it?"Frank Talbot answered for him, that he was a yeoman pricker, and theEarl permitted the paper to be carried to Mary, watching her carefullyas she read it, when Antony had presented it on one knee.

  "Poor woman!" she said, "it is a piteous case. Master Beatoun, hastthou my purse? Here, Master Babington, wilt thou be the bearer of thisangel for me, since I know that the delight of being the bearer will bea reward to thy kind heart."

  Antony gracefully kissed the fair hand, and ran off joyously with theQueen's bounty. Little did any one guess what the career thus begunwould bring that fair boy.