Mother And Child
Cicely was well enough the next day to leave her room and come out on
the summer's evening to enjoy the novel spectacle of Trowle Madame, in
which she burned to participate, so soon as her shoulder should be
well. It was with a foreboding heart that her adopted mother fell with
her into the rear of the suite who were attending Queen Mary, as she
went downstairs to walk on the lawn, and sit under a canopy whence she
co
being carried on a little farther off.
"So, our bonnie maiden," said Mary, brightening as she caught sight of
the young girl, "thou art come forth once more to rejoice mine eyes, a
sight for sair een, as they say in Scotland," and she kissed the fresh
cheeks with a tenderness that gave Susan a strange pang. Then she asked
kindly after the hurt, and bade Cis sit at her feet, while she watched
a match in archery between some of the younger attendants, now and then
laying a caressing hand upon the slender figure.
"Little one," she said, "I would fain have thee to share my pillow. I
have had no young bed-fellow since Bess Pierrepoint left us. Wilt thou
stoop to come and cheer the poor old caged bird?"
"Oh, madam, how gladly will I do so if I may!" cried Cicely, delighted.
"We will take good care of her, Mistress Talbot," said Mary, "and
deliver her up to you whole and sain in the morning," and there was a
quivering playfulness in her voice.
"Your Grace is the mistress," answered Susan, with a sadness not quite
controlled.
"Ah! you mock me, madam. Would that I were!" returned the Queen. "It
is my Lord's consent that we must ask. How say you, my Lord, may I
have this maiden for my warder at night?"
Lord Shrewsbury was far from seeing any objection, and the promise was
given that Cis should repair to the Queen's chamber for at least that
night. She was full of excitement at the prospect.
"Why look you so sadly at me, sweet mother?" she cried, as Susan made
ready her hair, and assisted her in all the arrangements for which her
shoulder was still too stiff; "you do not fear that they will hurt my
arm?"
"No, truly, my child. They have tender and skilful hands."
"May be they will tell me the story of my parents," said Cis; "but you
need never doubt me, mother. Though I were to prove to be ever so
great a lady, no one could ever be mine own mother like you!"
"Scarcely in love, my child," said Susan, as she wrapped the little
figure in a loose gown, and gave her such a kiss as parents seldom
permitted themselves, in the fear of "cockering" their children, which
was considered to be a most reprehensible practice. Nor could she
refrain from closely pressing Cicely's hand as they passed through the
corridor to the Queen's apartments, gave the word to the two yeomen who
were on guard for the night at the head of the stairs, and tapped at
the outmost door of the royal suite of rooms. It was opened by a
French valet; but Mrs. Kennedy instantly advanced, took the maiden by
the hand, and with a significant smile said: "Gramercy, madam, we will
take unco gude tent of the lassie. A fair gude nicht to ye." And Mrs.
Talbot felt, as she put the little hand into that of the nurse, and saw
the door shut on them, as if she had virtually given up her daughter,
and, oh! was it for her good?
Cis was led into the bedchamber, bright with wax tapers, though the sky
was not yet dark. She heard a sound as of closing and locking double
doors, while some one drew back a crimson, gold-edged velvet curtain,
which she had seen several times, and which it was whispered concealed
the shrine where Queen Mary performed her devotions. She had just
risen from before it, at the sound of Cis's entrance, and two of her
ladies, Mary Seaton and Marie de Courcelles, seemed to have been
kneeling with her. She was made ready for bed, with a dark-blue velvet
gown corded round her, and her hair, now very gray, braided beneath a
little round cap, but a square of soft cambric drapery had been thrown
over her head, so as to form a perfectly graceful veil, and shelter the
features that were aging. Indeed, when Queen Mary wore the exquisite
smile that now lit up her face as she held out her arms, no one ever
paused to think what those lineaments really were. She held out her
arms as Cis advanced bashfully, and said: "Welcome, my sweet
bed-fellow, my little Scot--one more loyal subject come to me in my
bondage."
Cis's impulse was to put a knee to the ground and kiss the hands that
received her. "Thou art our patient," continued Mary. "I will see
thee in bed ere I settle myself there." The bed was a tall, large,
carved erection, with sweeping green and silver curtains, and a huge
bank of lace-bordered pillows. A flight of low steps facilitated the
ascent; and Cis, passive in this new scene, was made to throw off her
dressing-gown and climb up.
"And now," said the Queen, "let me see the poor little shoulder that
hath suffered so much."
"My arm is still bound, madam," said Cis. But she was not listened to;
and Mrs. Kennedy, much to her discomfiture, turned back her
under-garment. The marks were, in fact, so placed as to be entirely
out of her own view, and Mrs. Susan had kept them from the knowledge or
remark of any one. They were also high enough up to be quite clear
from the bandages, and thus she was amazed to hear the exclamation,
"There! sooth enough."
"Monsieur Gorion could swear to them instantly."
"What is it? Oh, what is it, madam?" cried Cis, affrighted; "is there
anything on my back? No plague spot, I hope;" and her eyes grew round
with terror.
The Queen laughed. "No plague spot, sweet one, save, perhaps, in the
eyes of you Protestants, but to me they are a gladsome sight--a token I
never hoped to see."
And the bewildered girl felt a pair of soft lips kiss each mark in
turn, and then the covering was quickly and caressingly restored, and
Mary added, "Lie down, my child, and now to bed, to bed, my maids.
Patent the lights." Then, making the sign of the cross, as Cis had
seen poor Antony Babington do, the Queen, just as all the lights save
one were extinguished, was divested of her wrapper and veil, and took
her place beside Cis on the pillows. The two Maries left the chamber,
and Jean Kennedy disposed herself on a pallet at the foot of the bed.
"And so," said the Queen, in a low voice, tender, but with a sort of
banter, "she thought she had the plague spot on her little white
shoulders. Didst thou really not know what marks thou bearest, little
one?"
"No, madam," said Cis. "Is it what I have felt with my fingers?"
"Listen, child," said Mary. "Art thou at thine ease; thy poor shoulder
resting well? There, then, give me thine hand, and I will tell thee a
tale. There was a lonely castle in a lake, grim, cold, and northerly;
and thither there was brought by angry men a captive woman. They had
dealt with her strangely and subtilly; they had laid on her the guilt
of the crimes themselves had wrought; and when she clung to the one man
whom at least she thought honest, they had forced and driven her into
wedding him, only that all the world might cry out upon her, forsake
her, and deliver her up into those cruel hands."
There was something irresistibly pathetic in Mary's voice, and the
maiden lay gazing at her with swimming eyes.
"Thou dost pity that poor lady, sweet one? There was little pity for
her then! She had looked her last on her lad--bairn; ay, and they had
said she had striven to poison him, and they were breeding him up to
loathe the very name of his mother; yea, and to hate and persecute the
Church of his father and his mother both. And so it was, that the lady
vowed that if another babe was granted to her, sprung of that last
strange miserable wedlock, these foes of hers should have no part in
it, nor knowledge of its very existence, but that it should be bred up
beyond their ken--safe out of their reach. Ah! child; good Nurse
Kennedy can best tell thee how the jealous eyes and ears were
disconcerted, and in secrecy and sorrow that birth took place."
Cis's heart was beating too fast for speech, but there was a tight
close pressure of the hand that Mary had placed within hers.
"The poor mother," went on the Queen in a low trembling voice, "durst
have scarce one hour's joy of her first and only daughter, ere the
trusty Gorion took the little one from her, to be nursed in a hut on
the other side of the lake. There," continued Mary, forgetting the
third person, "I hoped to have joined her, so soon as I was afoot
again. The faithful lavender lent me her garments, and I was already
in the boat, but the men-at-arms were rude and would have pulled down
my muffler; I raised my hand to protect myself, and it was all too
white. They had not let me stain it, because the dye would not befit a
washerwoman. So there was I dragged back to ward again, and all our
plans overthrown. And it seemed safer and meeter to put my little one
out of reach of all my foes, even if it were far away from her mother's
aching heart. Not one more embrace could I be granted, but my good
chaplain Ross--whom the saints rest--baptized her in secret, and Gorion
had set two marks on the soft flesh, which he said could never be
blotted out in after years, and then her father's clanswoman, Alison
Hepburn, undertook to carry her to France, with a letter of mine bound
up in her swathing clothes, committing her to the charge of my good
aunt, the Abbess of Soissons, in utter secrecy, until better days
should come. Alas! I thought them not so far off. I deemed that were I
once beyond the clutches of Morton, Ruthven, and the rest, the loyal
would rally once more round my standard, and my crown would be mine
own, mine enemies and those of my Church beneath my feet. Little did I
guess that my escape would only be to see them slain and routed, and
that when I threw myself on the hospitality of my cousin, her tender
mercies would prove such as I have found them. 'Libera me, Dominie,
libera me.'"
Cis began dimly to understand, but she was still too much awed to make
any demonstration, save a convulsive pressure of the Queen's hand, and
the murmuring of the Latin prayer distressed her.
Presently Mary resumed. "Long, long did I hope my little one was
safely sheltered from all my troubles in the dear old cloisters of
Soissons, and that it was caution in my good aunt the abbess that
prevented my hearing of her; but through my faithful servants, my Lord
Flemyng, who had been charged to speed her from Scotland, at length let
me know that the ship in which she sailed, the Bride of Dunbar, had
been never heard of more, and was thought to have been cast away in a
tempest that raged two days after she quitted Dunbar. And I--I shed
some tears, but I could well believe that the innocent babe had been
safely welcomed among the saints, and I could not grieve that she was,
as I thought, spared from the doom that rests upon the race of Stewart.
Till one week back, I gave thanks for that child of sorrow as cradled
in Paradise."
Then followed a pause, and then Cis said in a low trembling voice, "And
it was from the wreck of the Bride of Dunbar that I was taken?"
"Thou hast said it, child! My bairn, my bonnie bairn!" and the girl
was absorbed in a passionate embrace and strained convulsively to a
bosom which heaved with the sobs of tempestuous emotion, and the
caresses were redoubled upon her again and again with increasing
fervour that almost frightened her.
"Speak to me! Speak to me! Let me hear my child's voice."
"Oh, madam--"
"Call me mother! Never have I heard that sound from my child's lips. I
have borne two children, two living children, only to be stripped of
both. Speak, child--let me hear thee."
Cis contrived to say "Mother, my mother," but scarcely with effusion.
It was all so strange, and she could not help feeling as if Susan were
the mother she knew and was at ease with. All this was much too like a
dream, from which she longed to awake. And there was Mrs. Kennedy too,
rising up and crying quite indignantly--"Mother indeed! Is that all
thou hast to say, as though it were a task under the rod, when thou art
owned for her own bairn by the fairest and most ill-used queen in
Christendom? Out on thee! Have the Southron loons chilled thine heart
and made thee no leal to thine ain mother that hath hungered for thee?"
The angry tones, and her sense of her own shortcomings, could only make
Cis burst into tears.
"Hush, hush, nurse! thou shalt not chide my new-found bairn. She will
learn to ken us better in time if they will leave her with us," said
Mary. "There, there; greet not so sair, mine ain. I ask thee not to
share my sorrows and my woes. That Heaven forefend. I ask thee but to
come from time to time and cheer my nights, and lie on my weary bosom
to still its ache and yearning, and let me feel that I have indeed a
child."
"Oh, mother, mother!" Cis cried again in a stifled voice, as one who
could not utter her feelings, but not in the cold dry tone that had
called forth Mrs. Kennedy's wrath. "Pardon me, I know not--I cannot
say what I would. But oh! I would do anything for--for your Grace."
"All that I would ask of thee is to hold thy peace and keep our
counsel. Be Cicely Talbot by day as ever. Only at night be mine--my
child, my Bride, for so wast thou named after our Scottish patroness.
It was a relic of her sandals that was hung about thy neck, and her
ship in which thou didst sail; and lo, she heard and guarded thee, and
not merely saved thee from death, but provided thee a happy joyous home
and well-nurtured childhood. We must render her our thanks, my child.
Beata Brigitta, ora pro nobis."
"It was the good God Almighty who saved me, madam," said Cis bluntly.
"Alack! I forgot that yonder good lady could not fail to rear thee in
the outer darkness of her heresy; but thou wilt come back to us, my ain
wee thing! Heaven forbid that I should deny Whose Hand it was that
saved thee, but it was at the blessed Bride's intercession. No doubt
she reserved for me, who had turned to her in my distress, this
precious consolation! But I will not vex thy little heart with debate
this first night. To be mother and child is enough for us. What art
thou pondering?"
"Only, madam, who was it that told your Grace that I was a stranger?"
"The marks, bairnie, the marks," said Mary. "They told their own tale
to good Nurse Jeanie; ay, and to Gorion, whom we blamed for his cruelty
in branding my poor little lammie."
"Ah! but," said Cicely, "did not yonder woman with the beads and
bracelets bid him look?"
If it had been lighter, Cicely would have seen that the Queen was not
pleased at the inquiry, but she only heard the answer from Jean's bed,
"Hout no, I wad she knew nought of thae brands. How should she?"
"Nay," said Cicely, "she--no, it was Tibbott the huckster-woman told me
long ago that I was not what I seemed, and that I came from the
north--I cannot understand! Were they the same?"
"The bairn kens too much," said Jean. "Dinna ye deave her Grace with
your speirings, my lammie. Ye'll have to learn to keep a quiet sough,
and to see mickle ye canna understand here."
"Silence her not, good nurse," said the Queen, "it imports us to know
this matter. What saidst thou of Tibbott?"
"She was the woman who got Antony Babington into trouble," explained
Cicely. "I deemed her a witch, for she would hint strange things
concerning me, but my father always believed she was a kinsman of his,
who was concerned in the Rising of the North, and who, he said, had
seen me brought in to Hull from the wreck."
"Ay?" said the Queen, as a sign to her to continue.
"And meseemed," added Cicely timidly, "that the strange woman at
Tideswell who talked of beads and bracelets minded me of Tibbott,
though she was younger, and had not her grizzled brows; but father says
that cannot be, for Master Cuthbert Langston is beyond seas at Paris."
"Soh! that is well," returned Mary, in a tone of relief. "See, child.
That Langston of whom you speak was a true friend of mine. He has done
much for me under many disguises, and at the time of thy birth he lived
as a merchant at Hull, trading with Scotland. Thus it may have become
known to him that the babe he had seen rescued from the wreck was one
who had been embarked at Dunbar. But no more doth he know. The secret
of thy birth, my poor bairn, was entrusted to none save a few of those
about me, and all of those who are still living thou hast already seen.
Lord Flemyng, who put thee on board, believed thee the child of James
Hepburn of Lillieburn, the archer, and of my poor Mary Stewart, a
kinswoman of mine ain; and it was in that belief doubtless that he, or
Tibbott, as thou call'st him, would have spoken with thee."
"But the woman at Tideswell," said Cis, who was getting
bewildered--"Diccon said that she spake to Master Gorion."
"That did she, and pointed thee out to him. It is true. She is
another faithful friend of mine, and no doubt she had the secret from
him. But no more questions, child. Enough that we sleep in each
other's arms."
It was a strange night. Cis was more conscious of wonder, excitement,
and a certain exultation, than of actual affection. She had not been
bred up so as to hunger and crave for love. Indeed she had been
treated with more tenderness and indulgence than was usual with
people's own daughters, and her adopted parents had absorbed her
undoubting love and respect.
Queen Mary's fervent caresses were at least as embarrassing as they
were gratifying, because she did not know what response to make, and
the novelty and wonder of the situation were absolutely distressing.
They would have been more so but for the Queen's tact. She soon saw
that she was overwhelming the girl, and that time must be given for her
to become accustomed to the idea. So, saying tenderly something about
rest, she lay quietly, leaving Cis, as she supposed, to sleep. This,
however, was impossible to the girl, except in snatches which made her
have to prove to herself again and again that it was not all a dream.
The last of these wakenings was by daylight, as full as the heavy
curtains would admit, and she looked up into a face that was watching
her with such tender wistfulness that it drew from her perforce the
word "Mother."
"Ah! that is the tone with the true ring in it. I thank thee and I
bless thee, my bairn," said Mary, making over her the sign of the
cross, at which the maiden winced as at an incantation. Then she
added, "My little maid, we must be up and stirring. Mind, no word of
all this. Thou art Cicely Talbot by day, as ever, and only my child,
my Bride, mine ain wee thing, my princess by night. Canst keep
counsel?"
"Surely, madam," said Cis, "I have known for five years that I was a
foundling on the wreck, and I never uttered a word."
Mary smiled. "This is either a very simple child or a very canny one,"
she said to Jean Kennedy. "Either she sees no boast in being of royal
blood, or she deems that to have the mother she has found is worse than
the being the nameless foundling."
"Oh! madam, mother, not so! I meant but that I had held my tongue when
I had something to tell!"
"Let thy secrecy stand thee in good stead, child," said the Queen.
"Remember that did the bruit once get abroad, thou wouldest assuredly
be torn from me, to be mewed up where the English Queen could hinder
thee from ever wedding living man. Ay, and it might bring the head of
thy foster-father to the block, if he were thought to have concealed
the matter. I fear me thou art too young for such a weighty secret."
"I am seventeen years old, madam," returned Cis, with dignity; "I have
kept the other secret since I was twelve."
"Then thou wilt, I trust, have the wisdom not to take the princess on
thee, nor to give any suspicion that we are more to one another than
the caged bird and the bright linnet that comes to sing on the bars of
her cage. Only, child, thou must get from Master Talbot these tokens
that I hear of. Hast seen them?"
"Never, madam; indeed I knew not of them."
"I need them not to know thee for mine own, but it is not well that
they should be in stranger hands. Thou canst say--But hush, we must be
mum for the present."
For it became necessary to admit the Queen's morning draught of spiced
milk, borne in by one of her suite who had to remain uninitiated; and
from that moment no more confidences could be exchanged, until the time
that Cis had to leave the Queen's chamber to join the rest of the
household in the daily prayers offered in the chapel. Her dress and
hair had, according to promise, been carefully attended to, but she was
only finished and completed just in time to join her adopted parents on
the way down the stairs. She knelt in the hall for their blessing--an
action as regular and as mechanical as the morning kiss and greeting
now are between parent and child; but there was something in her face
that made Susan say to herself, "She knows all."
They could not speak to one another till not only matins but breakfast
were ended, and then--after the somewhat solid meal--the ladies had to
put on their out-of-door gear to attend Queen Mary in her daily
exercise. The dress was not much, high summer as it was, only a loose
veil over the stiff cap, and a fan in the gloved hand to act as
parasol. However the retirement gave Cicely an interval in which to
say, "O mother, she has told me," and as Susan sat holding out her
arms, the adopted child threw herself on her knees, hiding her face on
that bosom where she had found comfort all her life, and where, her
emotion at last finding full outlet, she sobbed without knowing why for
some moments, till she started nervously at the entrance of Richard,
saying, "The Queen is asking for you both. But how now? Is all told?"
"Ay," whispered his wife.
"So! And why these tears? Tell me, my maid, was not she good to thee?
Doth she seek to take thee into her own keeping?"
"Oh no, sir, no," said Cis, still kneeling against the motherly knee
and struggling with her sobs. "No one is to guess. I am to be Cicely
Talbot all the same, till better days come to her."
"The safer and the happier for thee, child. Here are two honest hearts
that will not cast thee off, even if, as I suspect, yonder lady would
fain be quit of thee."
"Oh no!" burst from Cicely, then, shocked at having committed the
offence of interrupting him, she added, "Dear sir, I crave your pardon,
but, indeed, she is all fondness and love."
"Then what means this passion?" he asked, looking from one to the other.
"It means only that the child's senses and spirits are overcome," said
Susan, "and that she scarce knows how to take this discovery. Is it not
so, sweetheart?"
"Oh, sweet mother, yes in sooth. You will ever be mother to me indeed!"
"Well said, little maid!" said Richard. "Thou mightest search the
world over and never hap upon such another."
"But she oweth duty to the true mother," said Susan, with her hand on
the girl's neck.
"We wot well of that," answered her husband, "and I trow the first is
to be secret."
"Yea, sir," said Cis, recovering herself, "none save the very few who
tended her, the Queen at Lochleven, know who I verily am. Such as were
aware of the babe being put on board ship at Dunbar, thought me the
daughter of a Scottish archer, a Hepburn, and she, the Queen my mother,
would, have me pass as such to those who needs must know I am not
myself."
"Trust her for making a double web when a single one would do,"
muttered Richard, but so that the girl could not hear.
"There is no need for any to know at present," said Susan hastily,
moved perhaps by the same dislike to deception; "but ah, there's that
fortune-telling woman."
Cis, proud of her secret information, here explained that Tibbott was
indeed Cuthbert Langston, but not the person whose password was "beads
and bracelets," and that both alike could know no more than the story
of the Scottish archer and his young wife, but they were here
interrupted by the appearance of Diccon, who had been sent by my Lord
himself to hasten them at the instance of the Queen. Master Richard
sent the boy on with his mother, saying he would wait and bring Cis, as
she had still to compose her hair and coif, which had become somewhat
disordered.
"My maiden," he said, gravely, "I have somewhat to say unto thee. Thou
art in a stranger case than any woman of thy years between the four
seas; nay, it may be in Christendom. It is woeful hard for thee not to
be a traitor through mere lapse of tongue to thine own mother, or else
to thy Queen. So I tell thee this once for all. See as little, hear
as little, and, above all, say as little as thou canst."
"Not to mother?" asked Cis.
"No, not to her, above all not to me, and, my girl, pray God daily to
keep thee true and loyal, and guard thee and the rest of us from
snares. Now have with thee. We may tarry no longer!"
All went as usual for the rest of the day, so that the last night was
like a dream, until it became plain that Cicely was again to share the
royal apartment.
"Ah, I have thirsted for this hour!" said Mary, holding out her arms
and drawing her daughter to her bosom. "Thou art a canny lassie, mine
ain wee thing. None could have guessed from thy bearing that there was
aught betwixt us."
"In sooth, madam," said the girl, "it seems that I am two maidens in
one--Cis Talbot by day, and Bride of Scotland by night."
"That is well! Be all Cis Talbot by day. When there is need to
dissemble, believe in thine own feigning. 'Tis for want of that art
that these clumsy Southrons make themselves but a laughing-stock
whenever they have a secret."
Cis did not understand the maxim, and submitted in silence to some
caresses before she said, "My father will give your Grace the tokens
when we return."
"Thy father, child?"
"I crave your pardon, madam, it comes too trippingly to my tongue thus
to term Master Talbot."
"So much the better. Thy tongue must not lose the trick. I did but
feel a moment's fear lest thou hadst not been guarded enough with
yonder sailor man, and had let him infer over much."
"O, surely, madam, you never meant me to withhold the truth from father
and mother," cried Cis, in astonishment and dismay.
"Tush! silly maid!" said the Queen, really angered. "Father and
mother, forsooth! Now shall we have a fresh coil! I should have known
better than to have trusted thy word."
"Never would I have given my word to deceive them," cried Cis, hotly.
"Lassie!" exclaimed Jean Kennedy, "ye forget to whom ye speak."
"Nay," said Mary, recovering herself, or rather seeing how best to
punish, "'tis the poor bairn who will be the sufferer. Our state
cannot be worse than it is already, save that I shall lose her
presence, but it pities me to think of her."
"The secret is safe with them," repeated Cis. "O madam, none are to be
trusted like them."
"Tell me not," said the Queen. "The sailor's blundering loyalty will
not suffer him to hold his tongue. I would lay my two lost crowns that
he is down on his honest knees before my Lord craving pardon for having
unwittingly fostered one of the viper brood. Then, via! off goes a
post--boots and spurs are no doubt already on--and by and by comes
Knollys, or Garey, or Walsingham, to bear off the perilous maiden to
walk in Queen Bess's train, and have her ears boxed when her Majesty is
out of humour, or when she gets weary of dressing St. Katherine's hair,
and weds the man of her choice, she begins to taste of prison walls,
and is a captive for the rest of her days."
Cis was reduced to tears, and assurances that if the Queen would only
broach the subject to Master Richard, she would perceive that he
regarded as sacred, secrets that were not his own; and to show that he
meant no betrayal, she repeated his advice as to seeing, hearing, and
saying as little as possible.
"Wholesome counsel!" said Mary. "Cheer thee, lassie mine, I will
credit whatever thou wilt of this foster-father of thine until I see it
disproved; and for the good lady his wife, she hath more inward, if
less outward, grace than any dame of the mastiff brood which guards our
prison court! I should have warned thee that they were not excepted
from those who may deem thee my poor Mary's child."
Cicely did not bethink herself that, in point of fact, she had not
communicated her royal birth to her adopted parents, but that it had
been assumed between them, as, indeed, they had not mentioned their
previous knowledge. Mary presently proceeded--"After all, we may not
have to lay too heavy a burden on their discretion. Better days are
coming. One day shall our faithful lieges open the way to freedom and
royalty, and thou shalt have whatever boon thou wouldst ask, even were
it pardon for my Lady Shrewsbury."
"There is one question I would fain ask, Madam mother: Doth my real
father yet live? The Earl of--"
Jean Kennedy made a sound of indignant warning and consternation,
cutting her short in dismay; but the Queen gripped her hand tightly for
some moments, and then said: "'Tis not a thing to speir of me, child,
of me, the most woefully deceived and forlorn of ladies. Never have I
seen nor heard from him since the parting at Carbery Hill, when he left
me to bear the brunt! Folk say that he took ship for the north.
Believe him dead, child. So were it best for us both; but never name
him to me more."
Jean Kennedy knew, though the girl did not, what these words conveyed.
If Bothwell no longer lived, there would be no need to declare the
marriage null and void, and thus sacrifice his daughter's position; but
supposing him to be in existence, Mary had already shown herself
resolved to cancel the very irregular bonds which had united them,--a
most easy matter for a member of her Church, since they had been
married by a Reformed minister, and Bothwell had a living wife at the
time. Of all this Cicely was absolutely ignorant, and was soon eagerly
listening as the Queen spoke of her hopes of speedy deliverance. "My
son, my Jamie, is working for me!" she said. "Nay, dost not ken what is
in view for me?"
"No, madam, my good father, Master Richard, I mean, never tells aught
that he hears in my Lord's closet."
"That is to assure me of his discretion, I trow! but this is no secret!
No treason against our well-beloved cousin Bess! Oh no! But thy
brother, mine ain lad-bairn, hath come to years of manhood, and hath
shaken himself free of the fetters of Knox and Morton and Buchanan, and
all their clamjamfrie. The Stewart lion hath been too strong for them.
The puir laddie hath true men about him, at last,--the Master of Gray,
as they call him, and Esme Stewart of Aubigny, a Scot polished as the
French know how to brighten Scottish steel. Nor will the lad bide that
his mother should pine longer in durance. He yearns for her, and hath
writ to her and to Elizabeth offering her a share in his throne. Poor
laddie, what would be outrecuidance in another is but duteousness in
him. What will he say when we bring him a sister as well as a mother?
They tell me that he is an unco scholar, but uncouth in his speech and
manners, and how should it be otherwise with no woman near him save my
old Lady Mar? We shall have to take him in hand to teach him fair
courtesy."
"Sure he will be an old pupil!" said Cis, "if he be more than two years
my elder."
"Never fear, if we can find a winsome young bride for him, trust
mother, wife, and sister for moulding him to kingly bearing. We will
make our home in Stirling or Linlithgow, we two, and leave Holyrood to
him. I have seen too much there ever to thole the sight of those
chambers, far less of the High Street of Edinburgh; but Stirling,
bonnie Stirling, ay, I would fain ride a hawking there once more.
Methinks a Highland breeze would put life and youth into me again.
There's a little chamber opening into mine, where I will bestow thee,
my Lady Bride of Scotland, for so long as I may keep thee. Ah! it will
not be for long. They will be seeking thee, my brave courtly faithful
kindred of Lorraine, and Scottish nobles and English lords will vie for
this little hand of thine, where courses the royal blood of both
realms."
"So please you, madam, my mother--"
"Eh? What is it? Who is it? I deemed that yonder honourable dame had
kept thee from all the frolics and foibles of the poor old profession.
Fear not to tell me, little one. Remember thine own mother hath a
heart for such matters. I guess already. C'etait un beau garcon, ce
pauvre Antoine."
"Oh no, madam," exclaimed Cicely. "When the sailor Goatley disclosed
that I was no child of my father's, of Master Richard I mean, and was a
nameless creature belonging to no one, Humfrey Talbot stood forth and
pledged himself to wed me so soon as we were old enough."
"And what said the squire and dame?"
"That I should then be indeed their daughter."
"And hath the contract gone no farther?"
"No, madam. He hath been to the North with Captain Frobisher, and
since that to the Western Main, and we look for his return even now."
"How long is it since this pledge, as thou callest it, was given?"
"Five years next Lammas tide, madam."
"Was it by ring or token?"
"No, madam. Our mother said we were too young, but Humfrey meant it
with all his heart."
"Humfrey! That was the urchin who must needs traverse the
correspondence through the seeming Tibbott, and so got Antony removed
from about us. A stout lubberly Yorkshire lad, fed on beef and
pudding, a true Talbot, a mere English bull-dog who will have lost all
the little breeding he had, while committing spulzie and piracy at sea
on his Catholic Majesty's ships. Bah, mon enfant, I am glad of it.
Had he been a graceful young courtly page like the poor Antony, it
might have been a little difficult, but a great English carle like
that, whom thou hast not seen for five years--" She made a gesture with
her graceful hands as if casting away a piece of thistledown.
"Humfrey is my very good--my very good brother, madam," cried Cicely,
casting about for words to defend him, and not seizing the most
appropriate.
"Brother, quotha? Yea, and as good brother he shall be to thee, and
welcome, so long as thou art Cis Talbot by day--but no more, child.
Princesses mate not with Yorkshire esquires. When the Lady Bride takes
her place in the halls of her forefathers, she will be the property of
Scotland, and her hand will be sought by princes. Ah, lassie! let it
not grieve thee. One thing thy mother can tell thee from her own
experience. There is more bliss in mating with our equals, by the
choice of others, than in following our own wild will. Thou gazest at
me in wonder, but verily my happy days were with my gentle young
king--and so will thine be, I pray the saints happier and more enduring
than ever were mine. Nothing has ever lasted with me but captivity, O
libera me."
And in the murmured repetition the mother fell asleep, and the
daughter, who had slumbered little the night before, could not but
likewise drop into the world of soothing oblivion, though with a dull
feeling of aching and yearning towards the friendly kindly Humfrey, yet
with a certain exultation in the fate that seemed to be carrying her on
inevitably beyond his reach.
More
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A Tangle
It was a rainy November afternoon. Dinner was over, the great wood fire had been made up, and Mistress Talbot was presiding over the womenfolk of her household and their tasks with needle and distaff. She had laid hands on her unwilling son Edwar... A Venture
"Mother, dear mother, do but listen to me." "I must listen, child, when thou callest me so from your heart; but it is of no use, my poor little one. They have referred the matter to the Star Chamber, that they may settle it there with closed do... Addendum
Through the kindness of William Traill, Esq. of Woodwick, Orkney, we are enabled to give the following authentic genealogical account of the manner in which the interesting portrait of Mary Queen of Scots, engraved for this Work, and particularly ... An Examination Of The Letters Sonnets And Other Writings Adduced In Evidence Against Mary Queen Of Scots
O place and greatness! millions of false eyes Are stuck upon thee! Volumes of report Run with these false and most contrarious guests Upon thy doings! Thousand 'scapes of wit Make thee the father of their idle dream, And rack thee in t... Beads And Bracelets
The Countess was by no means pacified by the investigation, and both she and her family remained at Court, maligning her husband and his captive. As the season advanced, bringing the time for the Queen's annual resort to the waters of Buxton, Lor... Before The Commissioners
Who would be permitted to witness the trial? As small matters at hand eclipse great matters farther off, this formed the immediate excitement in Queen Mary's little household, when it was disclosed that she was to appear only attended by Sir Andr... Bothwell
1566-1567 Earl of Bothwell.--His desperate character.--Castle of Dunbar.--The border country.--Scenes of violence and blood.--Birth of James.--Its political importance.--Darnley's conduct.--Darnley's hypocrisy.--Mary's dejection.--A divorce propo... Bothwell's Seizure Of The Queen's Person And Subsequent Marriage To Her
Every thing appeared now to be going smoothly with Bothwell, and he had only to take one step more to reach the very height of his ambition. Mary's hand and Scotland's crown were the objects he had all along kept steadily in view. The latter was t... Bothwell's Trial And Acquittal
During the whole of the day that succeeded her husband's death, (Monday the 10th of February 1567), Mary shut herself up in her own apartment, and would see no one. Bothwell was anxious to have conversed with her, but overpowered with grief, she w... Cis Or Sister
Buxtona, quae calidae celebraris nomine lymphae Forte mihi post hac non adeunda, Vale. (Buxton of whose warm waters men tell, Perchance I ne'er shall see thee more, Farewell.) Thus wrote Queen Mary with a diamond upon her window pan... Evidence
In the meantime the two Richard Talbots, father and son, had safely arrived in London, and had been made welcome at the house of their noble kinsman. Nau and Curll, they heard, were in Walsingham's house, subjected to close examination; Babingt... Evil Tidings
After giving orders for the repairs of the Mastiff, and the disposal of her crew, Master Richard Talbot purveyed himself of a horse at the hostel, and set forth for Spurn Head to make inquiries along the coast respecting the wreck of the Bride of ... Fotheringhay
"Is this my last journey?" said Queen Mary, with a strange, sad smile, as she took her seat in the heavy lumbering coach which had been appointed for her conveyance from Chartley, her rheumatism having set in too severely to permit her to ride. ... Her Education In France
1548-1556 Departure.--Stormy voyage.--Journey to Paris.--Release of prisoners.--Barabbas.--St. Germain.--Celebrations.--The convent.--Character of the nuns.--Interest in Mary.--Leaving the convent.--Amusements.--Visit of Mary's mother.--Queen do... Her Royal Highness
Cicely had been living in almost as much suspense in London as her mother at Fotheringhay. For greater security Mr. Talbot had kept her on board the Mastiff till he had seen M. d'Aubepine Chateauneuf, and presented to him Queen Mary's letter. Th... Hunting Down The Deer
Humfrey had been sworn in of the service of the Queen, and had been put in charge of the guard mustered at Chartley for about ten days, during which he seldom saw Cicely, and wondered much not to have heard from home: when a stag-hunt was arranged... In The Tower
"Here is a letter from Mr. Secretary to the Lieutenant of the Tower, Master Richard, bidding him admit you to speech of Babington," said Will Cavendish. "He was loath to give it, and nothing but my Lord Shrewsbury's interest would have done it, o... In The Web
It was a beautiful bright summer day, and Queen Mary and some of her train were preparing for their ride. The Queen was in high spirits, and that wonderful and changeful countenance of hers was beaming with anticipation and hope, while her demean... John Knox The Reformers And The Turbulent Nobles
Mary had been only a few days in Scotland when she was painfully reminded of the excited and dangerous state of feeling which then prevailed on the important subject of Religion. Her great and leading desire was to conciliate all parties, and to p... Loch Leven Castle
1567-1568 Grange of Kircaldy.--Mary's letter.--Removal of Mary.--A ride at night.--Loch Leven Castle.--The square tower.--Plan of Loch Leven Castle.--Lady Douglas.--Lady Douglas Mary's enemy.--Parties for and against Mary.--The Hamilton lords.--P... Mary And Lord Darnley
1562-1566 Stormy scenes.--Lord James.--Acts of cruelty.--Mary's energy and decision.--Her popularity.--Story of Chatelard.--His love and infatuation.--Trial of Chatelard.--His execution and last words.--Mary and Elizabeth.--The English succession... Mary At Lochleven Her Abdication And Murray's Regency
Scotland was now in the most unfortunate condition in which a country could possibly be. Like a ship without a pilot, it was left at the mercy of a hundred contrary opinions; and it was not long before there sprung out of these two opposing curren... Mary The Queen Dauphiness The Queen And The Queen Dowager Of France
Shortly after the espousals, Mary and her husband retired to one of their princely summer residences. Here she unostentatiously discharged the duties of a respectful and attentive wife, in a manner which gained for her the admiration of all who vi... Mary's Arrival At Holyrood With Sketches Of Her Principal Nobility
Mary landed in Scotland with a mind full of anxiety and uncertainty. She came alone and unprotected, to assume the government of a country which had long been distinguished for its rebellious turbulence. The masculine spirit of her father had quai... Mary's Birth And Subsequent Residence At The French Court
Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, was the third child of James V. and his wife, Mary of Guise. That lady had born him previously two sons, both of whom died in infancy. Mary came into the world on the 7th of December 1542, in the Palace of Linlithgow. ... Mary's Childhood
1542-1548 Palace where Mary was born.--Its situation.--Ruins.--The room.--Visitors.--Mary's father in the wars.--His death.--Regency.--Catholic religion.--The Protestants.--England and France.--The Earl of Arran.--The regency.--Arran regent.--Ne... Mary's Death And Character
On the 7th of February 1587, the Earls, who had been commissioned to superintend Mary's execution, arrived at Fotheringay. After dining together, they sent to inform the Queen, that they desired to speak with her. Mary was not well, and in bed; bu... Mary's Eighteen Years' Captivity
The last eighteen years of Mary's life were spent in imprisonment, and are comparatively a blank in her personal history. She was transported, at intervals, from castle to castle, and was intrusted sometimes to the charge of one nobleman, and some... Mary's Escape From Lochleven And The Battle Of Langside
With few comforts and no enjoyments, Mary remained closely confined in the Castle of Loch-Leven. Her only resources were in herself, and in the religion whose precepts she was ever anxious not only to profess, but to practise. Though deprived of l... Mary's Expedition To The North
The Lord James, now Earl of Mar, had for some time felt, that so long as he was regarded with suspicion by the Hamiltons, and with ill-concealed hatred by the Earl of Huntly and the Gordons, his power could not be so stable, nor his influence so e... Mary's Marriage Personal Appearance And Popularity
The time now approached when Henry began to think of confirming the French authority in Scotland, by consummating the contract of marriage which had so long existed between Francis and Mary. This was not, however, to be done without considerable o... Mary's Reception In England And The Conferences At York And Westminster
If there had been a single generous feeling still lurking in Elizabeth's bosom, the time was now arrived when it should have discovered itself. Mary was no longer a rival Queen, but an unfortunate sister, who, in her hour of distress, had thrown h... Mary's Return To Scotland And Previous Negotiations With Elizabeth
Elizabeth being informed of Mary's intended movements, thought the opportunity a favourable one, for adjusting with her one or two of their mutual disagreements. Mary's refusal to ratify the celebrated treaty of Edinburgh, had particularly galled ... Mary's Trial And Condemnation
The closing scene of Mary's life was now rapidly approaching. Debilitated as she was by her long confinement, and the many painful thoughts which had been incessantly preying on her peace of mind, it is not likely that she could have long survived... Master Talbot And His Charge
The afternoon on which they were to enter the old town of Kingston-upon-Hull closed in with a dense sea-fog, fast turning to drizzling rain. They could see but a little distance on either side, and could not see the lordly old church tower. The ... Misfortunes
1559-1561 Mary's love for Francis.--How to cherish the passion.--Grand tournament.--Henry's pride.--An encounter.--The helmet.--The vizor.--King Henry wounded.--His death.--The mournful marriage.--The dauphin becomes king.--Catharine superseded.-... Mother And Child
Cicely was well enough the next day to leave her room and come out on the summer's evening to enjoy the novel spectacle of Trowle Madame, in which she burned to participate, so soon as her shoulder should be well. It was with a foreboding heart t... My Lady's Remorse
"And have you brought her back again! O my lass! my lass!" cried Mistress Susan, surprised and delighted out of her usual staid composure, as, going out to greet her husband, an unexpected figure was seen by his side, and Cicely sprang into her a... Occurrences Immediately Preceding Darnley's Death
We are now about to enter upon a part of Mary's history, more important in its results, and more interesting in its details, than all that has gone before. A deed had been determined on, which, for audacity and villany, has but few parallels in ei... On The Humber
Master Talbot had done considerately in arranging that Cicely should at least begin her journey on a pillion behind himself, for her anguish of suppressed weeping unfitted her to guide a horse, and would have attracted the attention of any serving... Paul's Walk
Will Cavendish, who was in training for a statesman, and acted as a secretary to Sir Francis Walsingham, advised that the letters should be carried to him at once that same evening, as he would be in attendance on the Queen the next morning, and s... Queen Mary's Presence Chamber
The storm that followed on the instalment of the Lady Arbell at Sheffield was the precursor of many more. Her grandmother did sufficiently awake to the danger of alarming the jealousy of Queen Elizabeth to submit to leave her in the ordinary cham... Return To Scotland
1561 Calais.--Artificial piers and breakwaters.--Throckmorton.--Elizabeth's plans.--Throckmorton baffled.--Throckmorton's advice.--Queen Catharine's farewell.--Escort.--Embarkation.--Spectators.--Unfortunate accident.--Mary's farewell to France.-... Rizzio
1561-1566 David Rizzio.--Embassadors.--Rizzio's position.--Rizzio French secretary.--Displeasure of the Scotch nobles.--They treat Rizzio with scorn and contempt.--He consults Melville.--Melville's counsel.--Melville and the queen.--Rizzio's reli... Scotland And Its Troubles During Mary's Infancy
James V. left, as an inheritance to his kingdom, an expensive and destructive war with England. He likewise left what, under such circumstances, was a very questionable advantage, a treasury well stored with gold, and a coinage in good condition, ... Scotland And The Scottish Reformers Under The Regency Of The Queen-dowager
It was in the year 1517, that Luther first stated his objections to the validity of the indulgences granted so liberally by Pope Leo X. From this year, those who love to trace causes to their origin, date the epoch of the Reformation. It was not, ... Summary Of Queen Mary
During the reigns of James IV. and James V., Scotland emerged from barbarism into comparative civilization. Shut out, as it had previously been, from almost any intercourse with the rest of Europe, both by the peculiarities of its situation, and i... Ten Years After
It was ten years later in the reign of Elizabeth, when James VI. was under one of his many eclipses of favour, and when the united English and Dutch fleets had been performing gallant exploits at Cadiz and Tercera, that license for a few weeks' ab... Tete-a-tete
During that close imprisonment at Tixall Cicely learnt to know her mother both in her strength and weakness. They were quite alone; except that Sir Walter Ashton daily came to perform the office of taster and carver at their meals, and on the fir... The Bewitched Whistle
A child's point of view is so different from that of a grown person, that the discovery did not make half so much difference to Cis as her adopted parents expected. In fact it was like a dream to her. She found her daily life and her surrounding... The Blast Of The Whistle
Richard Talbot was of course convinced that witchcraft was not likely to be the most serious part of the misdeeds of Tibbott the huckstress. Committing Antony Babington to the custody of his wife, he sped on his way back to the Manor-house, where ... The Captive
Death and sorrow seemed to have marked the house of Bridgefield, for the old lady never rallied after the blood-letting enjoined by the Countess's medical science, and her husband, though for some months able to creep about the house, and even som... The Castle Well
"What vantage or what thing Gett'st thou thus for to sting, Thou false and flatt'ring liar? Thy tongue doth hurt, it's seen No less than arrows keen Or hot consuming fire." So sang the congregation in the chapel at Chartley,... The Clash Of Swords
Festivals in the middle ages were conducted by day rather than by night, and it was a bright noonday sun that shone upon the great hall at Sheffield, bedecked with rich tapestry around the dais, where the floor was further spread with Eastern carp... The Death Of Darnley
It was on Sunday, the 9th of February 1567, that the final preparations for the murder of Darnley were made. To execute the guilty deed, Bothwell was obliged to avail himself of the assistance of those ready ministers of crime, who are always to b... The Ebbing Well
Cicely's thirst for adventures had received a check, but the Queen, being particularly well and in good spirits, and trusting that this would be her last visit to Buxton, was inclined to enterprise, and there were long rides and hawking expedition... The End
1586-1587 Plots and intrigues.--How far Mary was involved.--Babington's conspiracy.--Secret correspondence.--Seizure of Mary's papers.--Her son James.--Elizabeth resolves to bring Mary to trial.--Fotheringay Castle.--Great interest in the trial.-... The Fall Of Bothwell
1567 Mary's infatuation.--Excuses for her.--Mary's deep depression.--Interposition of the King of France.--Bothwell at Edinburgh Castle.--He is hated by the people.--The opposing parties.--How far Mary was responsible.--Melrose.--Ruins of the abb... The Fetterlock Court
People did not pity themselves so much for suspense when, instead of receiving an answer in less than an hour, they had to wait for it for weeks if not months. Mrs. Talbot might be anxious at Bridgefield, and her son at Fotheringhay, and poor Que... The Great Wedding
1558 Hastening the wedding.--Reasons for it.--Attempt to poison Mary.--The Guises.--Catharine's jealousy.--Commissioners from Scotland.--Preliminaries.--Stipulations.--Plan of Henry to evade them.--Marriage settlement.--Secret papers.--Their con... The Huckstering Woman
The huckstering woman, Tibbott by name, was tended by Queen Mary's apothecary, and in due time was sent off well provided, to the great fair of York, whence she returned with a basket of needles, pins (such as they were), bodkins, and the like art... The Key Of The Cipher
Where is the man who does not persuade himself that when he gratifies his own curiosity he does so for the sake of his womankind? So Richard Talbot, having made his protest, waited two days, but when next he had any leisure moments before him, on... The Lady Arbell
After several weary months of languishing, Charles Stewart was saved from the miseries which seemed the natural inheritance of his name by sinking into his grave. His funeral was conducted with the utmost magnificence, though the Earl of Shrewsbu... The Little Waif
On a spring day, in the year 1568, Mistress Talbot sat in her lodging at Hull, an upper chamber, with a large latticed window, glazed with the circle and diamond leading perpetuated in Dutch pictures, and opening on a carved balcony, whence, had s... The Long Captivity
1568-1570 Dumbarton Castle.--The situation and aspect.--Attempt to retreat to Dumbarton.--Mary's forces defeated.--Mary's flight.--Dundrennan.--Consultations.--Carlisle Castle.--Mary's message to the governor.--Lowther.--Mary's reception at the ... The Love Token
"Yonder woman came to tell this young lady's fortune," said Sir Ralf, a few days later. "Did she guess what I, an old man, have to bode for her!" and he smiled at the Queen. "Here is a token I was entreated by a young gentleman to deliver to thi... The Monograms
When Cicely had been carried into a chamber by Master Talbot, and laid half-conscious and moaning on the grand carved bed, Mrs. Talbot by word and gesture expelled all superfluous spectators. She would have preferred examining alone into the inju... The Oak And The Oaken Hall
The oaks of Sheffield Park were one of the greatest glories of the place. Giants of the forest stretched their huge arms over the turf, kept smooth and velvety by the creatures, wild and tame, that browsed on it, and made their covert in the deep... The Peak Cavern
It was quite true that at this period Queen Mary had good hope of liberation in the most satisfactory manner possible--short of being hailed as English Queen. Negotiations were actually on foot with James VI. and Elizabeth for her release. James... The Proposal Of A Divorce Between Mary And Darnley And The Christening Of James Vi
It was in December 1566, during Mary's residence at Craigmillar, that a proposal was made to her by her Privy Council, which deserves particular attention. It originated with the Earl of Bothwell, who was now an active Cabinet Minister and Officer... The Rebellion Of The Nobles The Meeting At Carberry Hill And Its Consequences
Mary's first step, after her marriage, was to send, at her husband's desire, ambassadors into England and France, to explain to these Courts the motives by which she had been actuated. The instructions given to these ambassadors, as Buchanan has j... The Search
Humfrey had been much disappointed, when, instead of joining the hunt, Sir Amias Paulett bade him undertake the instruction of half a dozen extremely awkward peasants, who had been called in to increase the guard, but who did not know how to shoul...