“She is the last person on earth to whom I would have confessed my folly. She believes that you — one of her gentlemen — had insolently dared to raise your eyes towards her grand-daughter. And she also believes — nay, is certain — that I was indiscreet enough to meet you in this secluded spot. But she knows nothing more. Had she known the truth, you would not have escaped with life. My secret will never pass my lips, even to my father confessor; and all your assertions, should you dare to make them, will be met by flat contradiction on my part.
“What brings you back to torment me, Francis? I have heard nothing of you since your departure; but, some time ago, a rumour reached the Duchess that you had joined the terrible Ottoman corsair, Dragut, and had sailed with him to ravage the shores of Italy, Sicily, and Spain.”
“The rumour was true,” he replied. “On leaving England, after my dismissal by the Duchess, I went to the Isle of Gerbes, where I found Dragut, and formed one of the crew on board the brigantine which he himself commanded. I pleased the great corsair captain so well, that I was speedily promoted, and given the command of a galley.
“I have had so many escapes, that I begin to think I bear a charmed life. On one occasion, we had anchored in the bay of Giralate, between Calvi and Griaza, in Corsica, and were dividing the large booty we had obtained on the coast of Italy, when we were surprised and surrounded by a fleet of Genoese and Portugese vessels, commanded by old Andrea Doria, and Berenguel de Requessens. Though greatly outnumbered, we were as difficult to take as a nest of hornets. Most of our galleys, however, were captured. Mine was sunk. I saved myself by swimming, and was taken on hoard Dragut’s brigantine. Andrea Doria chased us towards Sardinia and Sicily; and at last, finding escape impossible, we were obliged to fight him, and were beaten. We were confined in a strong fort near Ajaccio, but Dragut had plenty of ducats, and soon procured our liberation.
“We next sailed with the Calabrian corsair Ucchiali to Algiers, where I was presented to Khair Eddyn, the sovereign. By him we were employed in the siege of La Goulette; and when this was over, Dragut set sail for Constantinople. Had it pleased me to remain there, I might have obtained a post under Sultan Solyman.”
“Why did you not accept it?” exclaimed Catherine. “A great career might have been opened to you.”
“It might, for I was befriended by Rostan Pasha; but a greater attraction drew me back to England. I had gained all I wanted.
“Listen to me, Catherine, I became a corsair for your sake. I went away poor; but I have come back rich. I have brought with me gold and jewels that would excite the envy of the Duchess herself. All my treasures are yours!”
“And think you I would accept such ill-gotten gains?” she replied, regarding him with horror. “You offer them to me with blood-stained hands! Of how many murders are they the produce?”
“They are spoils of war, to which I was fairly entitled. Remember that I fought under the Turkish flag.”
“Are you a renegade, then, as well as a corsair?”
“No; I have not abjured my faith. But I was about to tell you that the chief part of my treasure was taken from Signor Pascalico — a noble Venetian, whose galley fell into my hands in the Adriatic. Pascalico defended himself bravely; but being obliged to yield, did so with a very good grace, and presented me with a chest full of golden ducats, as well as a casket of jewels.
“You call my gains ill-gotten. But, by heaven! if I had pillaged St. Thomas à Becket’s shrine, as the King has done, the sin would weigh far heavier on my conscience than any act I have committed.”
“That was a sacrilegious act, indeed,” said Catherine, with a shudder, “and will assuredly bring ill to the Lord Cromwell, who suggested it. But I can listen to you no longer. Nothing you can say — nothing you can offer — will alter my determination. We must part for ever. Return to Constantinople, and improve your fortunes with the Sultan. Who knows but you may become a pasha? Farewell!”
“No, Catherine!” he exclaimed, seizing her hand, and detaining her. “We must not part thus. For your sake, I have committed crimes on which I dare not reflect. I have imperilled my soul’s salvation to bring you gold; and the fiend who tempted me shall not rob me of my prize. You shall be mine!”
“Never!” she exclaimed, energetically. “You have said enough to place your life in my hands; and if you dare to present yourself again before me, I will denounce you as a corsair. You know what will then be your doom.”
“Catherine,” he said, regarding her sternly, “you would not hold this language towards me, after what has passed between us, if you did not love another. But you cannot break the tie between us. It is a bar to any other union. You deem yourself safe because Mary Lassells has disappeared, but I will find her. As to your lover—”
“Francis, I have none,” she interrupted. “Ever since your departure, I have lived in perfect retirement with the Duchess.”
“Does that prove you have no lover?” he cried. “You were living in similar retirement when you smiled on me; and, for aught I know, may have quickly supplied my place. This mansion is not a convent, and the Duchess of Norfolk is not an abbess. Nobles and gallants come hither, and some one among them may have become enamoured of you. Who is my rival?”
“I have told you that I have deeply repented of my folly in encouraging you, and I will tell you no more. You will come here again at your peril.”
“I will come to claim you as my bride,” he replied.
“Your bride! The bride of a corsair!” she exclaimed scornfully. “Release me instantly, or I will call for aid. Ha! some one comes — help!”
“Think not to escape me, Catherine. None other shall wed you — not even the King himself!”
With this he left her, and disappeared.
Scarcely was he gone, than Adrian Culpepper burst into the enclosure, and hurried towards her.
“What has alarmed you, Catherine?” he exclaimed, looking around. “Has any one been here?”
“I fancied some one was concealed in the temple,” she rejoined.
“I will see,” he cried.
After a moment’s fruitless search, he returned, and said, “Reassure yourself. No one is there.”
But remarking that Catherine still trembled violently, he added, “What is this? Something must have happened. Why have you come to this spot, which you have always shunned when we have walked forth together in the garden?”
“I will never come here again, Adrian. But let us return to the house.”
“Stay a moment. There is nothing to fear. Before we go, I would fain learn why you dislike this spot? What unpleasant event has occurred here? I thought you had no secrets from me, Catherine.”
“Nor have I,” she rejoined, trying to force a smile, “but do not question me now. Some other time, when I am more composed, I will tell you all. Hist! I am sure I heard some one stirring amid the trees!”
“’Tis mere fancy,” he rejoined, after listening for a moment intently. “But I will search the alley, if you desire it.”
“No,” she replied; “do not leave me. I did not expect you to-night, Adrian. I thought you were with the King at Greenwich.”
“I have just returned,” he replied. “My first inquiries, as you may be sure, were for you. The Duchess told me you had walked forth to enjoy the moonlight. I sought you on the terrace, but in vain. I should never have looked for you here, had I not heard your cry. But let us dismiss that subject; I have news that will surprise you. The King spoke of you to-day.”
“The King spoke of me?” she exclaimed.
“Yes, he announced his intention of making you one of the maids of honour to the new Queen.”
“To what am I to attribute the honour of his Majesty’s choice? He has never seen me.”
“He may have heard of you. But I cannot allow you to accept the post, Catherine.”
“Nay; I must needs obey, if the King commands. But how do you find the Princess of Cleves? Is she as lovely as reported.”
; “Lovely!” he exclaimed; “she is destitute of all personal attraction. His Majesty was most wofully disappointed, and would have broken off the match at once, if Cromwell had not pointed out to him the impolicy of such a proceeding. So he will go through with it. But I will stake my existence that he will divorce the Queen before three months are over, and then look out for another spouse, according to his custom.”
And he again laughed loudly.
“A sad prospect for the Princess!” exclaimed Catherine.
“I cannot pity her. Besides, the King has been tricked — not by her, perhaps, but by her brother, the Duke of Cleves, and Cromwell. He bargained for a beauty, and they have given him a perfect fright. However, she will do as well as another to have her head chopped off.”
“Dreadful! I wonder he can find a wife. I would not wed him, if he were to offer me his royal hand.”
“I told him so this very morning.”
“You told his Majesty that I would not accept him?” cried Catherine, in extremity of surprise.
“Merely in jest, of course.”
“I did not imagine the King would tolerate such a jest. Besides, you had no warrant for it.”
“I felt sure you would not risk your head with such a capricious tyrant, Catherine. But I tell you, it was merely a jest.”
“hope the King will not be offended with me.”
“Poh! he will think no more about it. I might have told him that you are already engaged to me..
“Then you would have told him an untruth, Adrian. But let us go. The Duchess will chide me for staying out so late.”
With this, they left the place together, and proceeded towards the mansion.
As soon as the coast was clear, Francis Dereham issued from the bosquet in which he had been concealed.
“So Adrian Culpepper is my favoured rival!” he exclaimed. “Had I yielded to my first impulse on making the discovery, I should have stabbed him to the heart. But I am glad I stayed my hand. Revenge is in my power. She shall never wed him. Never will I release her from her plighted troth — I swear it before heaven! Oh, Catherine — Catherine! you are false and forsworn; but I love you still, and you shall yet be mine!
“But, before I act, I must obtain the support of some powerful noble — some enemy of the Howards. Who so able to help me as the Lord Cromwell? He is the mortal foe of the Duke of Norfolk, and would willingly lower his Grace’s pride. My treasure will enable me to purchase Cromwell’s protection. I will seek an audience of him to-morrow.
“But I have more to do. Mary Lassells has been got out of the way, but her retreat can easily be discovered. When I have found her, I can act.
“Catherine, our next meeting shall not be here, but in the mansion from which I was ignominiously driven. I will claim you as my bride from the proud Duchess. You have scorned me, but I shall triumph in the end.”
Confident in the accomplishment of his purpose, he quitted the garden in the same way that he had entered it; and, unloosing his boat, rowed down the river.
IV. Cromwell House.
IN the time of Henry the Eighth, and, indeed, during the whole of the Tudor dynasty, many nobles had large mansions within the walls of the City of London. The Earl of Bridgewater had a house in the Barbican, the Marquis of Dorchester, and the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, had houses in Aldersgate Street. Nor is this surprising. The City of London was hot then the populous hive it has since become; but entirely composed of those picturesque mediaeval buildings that delight the painter, and comprehended within the circuit of its ancient walls hundreds of beautiful structures — to say nothing of the grand Gothic cathedral, with its lofty spire shooting to the sky.
Among the palatial edifices to which we have referred, one of the largest and stateliest was that built by Cromwell, Earl of Essex.
Cromwell House stood where Drapers’ Hall now stands, in Throgmorton Street. The street, it may be incidentally noted, did not receive its present designation until Elizabeth’s reign, and was called after Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, who had a house there. To make way for his mansion and gardens, the Earl of Essex swept away a multitude of small habitations, and reared, as we have said, a magnificent pile in the very heart of the City. On the north, his residence commanded a view of Finsbury Fields, and the charming country beyond; and on the south it looked upon the Thames, upon London Bridge, and the Tower.
But, like Wolsey, Cromwell did not long enjoy the palace he had built. He was struck down in the plenitude of his power, and his superb mansion being forfeited to the Crown, was purchased by the wealthy Drapers’ Company, and converted into their hall. The old house was burnt down in the great fire of London, and replaced by the existing structure.
Though proud and ostentatious as the great Cardinal himself, Cromwell was too prudent to provoke Henry’s anger and jealousy by a display of splendour such as had been exhibited by Wolsey; yet he, nevertheless, lived in sumptuous style, and practised unbounded hospitality.
Three long tables were daily spread in his banqueting-hall, and the number of guests was unlimited. His establishment was not larger than those of the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, or of some other wealthy noblemen of the period, but it was princely. He had a band of gentlemen pensioners, who wore his liveries, and were adorned with massive chains of gold. Some of these were of high family, and had all servants of their own.
Among the superior officers of his household were a high-chamberlain and vice-chamberlain, both of whom were clad in velvet, and carried wands, gentlemen ushers and yeomen ushers, grooms of the chamber, a priest, and an almoner. It is scarcely necessary to particularize the host of pages, lacqueys, carvers, cupbearers, and servers.
On the morning after the events previously described, a tall, richly-dressed personage, who was no other than Francis Dereham, approached the gates of Cromwell House.
Very different looked Dereham — in his satin, damask doublet and hose, in his velvet cap, ornamented by a diamond brooch, and with a long rapier at his side and a dagger at his girdle — from the mysterious individual who had secretly visited the Duchess of Norfolk’s garden at Lambeth.
Owing to the richness of his apparel, the haughtiness of his deportment, and the extreme darkness of his complexion, those who beheld him took him for a Spanish grandee; and they were confirmed in the notion that he was a personage of distinction and a foreigner, from his strange attendant.
This was a young Morisco, habited in his native flowing costume, and wearing a snowy turban, that contrasted strongly with his tawny skin and crisp black beard. His eyes were fine and black, and his teeth like ivory.
Mourzouk — for so he was called by his master — was tall and athletic. He stared fiercely at those who regarded him too inquisitively. His costume was completed by red morocco boots, and a yatagan was thrust under the scarf tied round his waist.
As Dereham drew near the mansion, he signed to Mourzouk to keep close behind him, and strode haughtily through the guards stationed in front of the gateway. Without pausing to speak to the gatekeeper, he marched into the great quadrangular court, which was filled by various officers of the household.
On seeing him and his sable attendant, a gentleman-usher advanced to meet him, and bowing profoundly, asked if he could serve his lordship.
Dereham undeceived the usher as to his rank, but contrived to propitiate him by a handsome fee, and signified that he desired an immediate audience of the Earl of Essex on a matter of importance.
Thereupon the usher begged him to follow him, and took him into the house.
Mourzouk awaited his master’s return in the court, and was exposed to a great number of inquisitive remarks, to all of which he replied by looks and gestures of angry impatience, from which it was inferred that the ignorant infidel did not understand what was said to him.
Meanwhile, Dereham was led by the usher along a corridor to a large tapestried ante-chamber, where several persons were waiting for admittance to the minister.
Dereham wa
s not long detained, for he again found a golden key efficacious; and, though he arrived last, was first to be introduced into the Earl’s private cabinet. The bland usher explained that the worshipful gentleman’s business was pressing and important, and the others were obliged to give way.
Cromwell was alone at the time, his secretary having just left the room. He was seated at a table, covered with papers and despatches. A scrutinizing glance at Dereham, as the latter came in, convinced the astute minister that his visitor was a bold and unscrupulous adventurer. He received him with courtesy, but did not invite him to be seated.
“If I heard your name aright, it is Francis Dereham,” he observed. “I should not have taken you for an Englishman. You have rather the air of a Spaniard, or an Italian. I have seen several valiant captains, like you, at the head of the bands of the Constable de Bourbon. But you are too young to have been at the siege of Rome.”
“Would I had been there with your lordship, to plant the first ladder on the walls of the Eternal City,” replied Dereham. “But at that time I was a page to the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk.”
“A page to the Duchess of Norfolk — ah!” thought Cromwell. “This man has a secret to reveal. But you have served, I am sure?”
“Not on land, my lord, but at sea.”
“Under the Earl of Southampton?”
“Not under our own flag, my lord, but under that of the Sultan.”
“How! you have fought with infidels against the Christians! Am I speaking to a renegade?”
“No, my lord, I am as devout a believer as any in his Majesty’s dominions. I will disguise nothing from your lordship. Since my dismissal by the Duchess of Norfolk, for a reason which I will presently explain, I sought to enrich myself in the quickest manner possible, and I therefore joined those bold cruisers who are to be met with on the coast of Africa. I sailed with Dragut and Ucchiali. We were lucky in making many prizes. But I am tired of the lawless life I have led, and would fain purchase pardon and protection from your lordship.”
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 616