Windsor Castle
Page 12
II.
In what manner Wolsey put his Scheme into Operation.
Foiled in his scheme of making Wyat the instrument of Anne Boleyn'soverthrow, Wolsey determined to put into immediate operation the planhe had conceived of bringing forward a rival to her with the king. If achoice had been allowed him, he would have selected some high-born damefor the purpose; but as this was out of the question--and as, indeed,Henry had of late proved insensible to the attractions of all thebeauties that crowded his court except Anne Boleyn--he trusted to theforester's fair granddaughter to accomplish his object. The sourcewhence he had received intelligence of the king's admiration of MabelLyndwood was his jester, Patch--a shrewd varlet who, under the maskof folly, picked up many an important secret for his master, and wasproportionately rewarded.
Before executing the scheme, it was necessary to ascertain whether thedamsel's beauty was as extraordinary as it had been represented; andwith this view, Wolsey mounted his mule one morning, and, accompanied byPatch and another attendant, rode towards the forest.
It was a bright and beautiful morning, and preoccupied as he was, theplotting cardinal could not be wholly insensible to the loveliness ofthe scene around him. Crossing Spring Hill, he paused at the head of along glade, skirted on the right by noble beech-trees whose silver stemssparkled in the sun shine, and extending down to the thicket now calledCooke's Hill Wood. From this point, as from every other eminence onthe northern side of the forest, a magnificent view of the castle wasobtained.
The sight of the kingly pile, towering above its vassal woods, kindledhigh and ambitious thoughts in his breast.
"The lord of that proud structure has been for years swayed by me,"he mused, "and shall the royal puppet be at last wrested from me by awoman's hand? Not if I can hold my own."
Roused by the reflection, he quickened his pace, and shaping his coursetowards Black Nest, reached in a short time the borders of a wide swamplying between the great lake and another pool of water of less extentsituated in the heart of the forest. This wild and dreary marsh,the haunt of the bittern and the plover, contrasted forcibly anddisagreeably with the rich sylvan district he had just quitted.
"I should not like to cross this swamp at night," he observed to Patch,who rode close behind him.
"Nor I, your grace," replied the buffoon. "We might chance to be led bya will-o'-the-wisp to a watery grave."
"Such treacherous fires are not confined to these regions, knave,"rejoined Wolsey. "Mankind are often lured, by delusive gleams of gloryand power, into quagmires deep and pitfalls. Holy Virgin; what have wehere?"
The exclamation was occasioned by a figure that suddenly emerged fromthe ground at a little distance on the right. Wolsey's mule swerved somuch as almost to endanger his seat, and he called out in a loud angrytone to the author of the annoyance--"Who are you, knave? and what doyou here?"
I am a keeper of the forest, an't please your grace, replied theother, doffing his cap, and disclosing harsh features which by no meansrecommended him to the cardinal, "and am named Morgan Fenwolf. Iwas crouching among the reeds to get a shot at a fat buck, when yourapproach called me to my feet."
"By St. Jude! this is the very fellow, your grace, who shot thehart-royal the other day," cried Patch.
"And so preserved the Lady Anne Boleyn," rejoined the cardinal. "Artsure of it, knave?"
"As sure as your grace is of canonisation," replied Patch. "That shotshould have brought you a rich reward, friend--either from the king'shighness or the Lady Anne," remarked Wolsey to the keeper.
"It has brought me nothing," rejoined Fenwolf sullenly.
"Hum!" exclaimed the cardinal. "Give the fellow a piece of gold, Patch."
"Methinks I should have better earned your grace's bounty if I had letthe hart work his will," said Fenwolf, reluctantly receiving the coin.
"How, fellow?" cried the cardinal, knitting his brows.
"Nay, I mean no offence," replied Fenwolf; "but the rumour goes thatyour grace and the Lady Anne are not well affected towards each other."
"The rumour is false," rejoined the cardinal, "and you can nowcontradict it on your own experience. Harkee, sirrah! where liesTristram Lyndwood's hut?"
Fenwolf looked somewhat surprised and confused by the question.
"It lies on the other side of yonder rising ground, about half a milehence," he said. "But if your grace is seeking old Tristram, you willnot find him. I parted with him, half-an-hour ago, on Hawk's Hill, andhe was then on his way to the deer-pen at Bray Wood."
"If I see his granddaughter Mabel, it will suffice," rejoined thecardinal. "I am told she is a comely damsel. Is it so?"
"I am but an indifferent judge of beauty," replied Fenwolf moodily.
"Lead my mule across this swamp, thou senseless loon," said thecardinal, "and I will give thee my blessing."
With a very ill grace Fenwolf complied, and conducted Wolsey to thefarther side of the marsh.
"If your grace pursues the path over the hill," he said, "and thenstrikes into the first opening on the right, it will bring you to theplace you seek." And, without waiting for the promised blessing, hedisappeared among the trees.
On reaching the top of the hill, Wolsey descried the hut through anopening in the trees at a few hundred yards' distance. It was pleasantlysituated on the brink of the lake, at the point where its width wasgreatest, and where it was fed by a brook that flowed into it from alarge pool of water near Sunninghill.
From the high ground where Wolsey now stood the view of the lake wasbeautiful. For nearly a mile its shining expanse was seen stretching outbetween banks of varied form, sometimes embayed, sometimes running outinto little headlands, but everywhere clothed with timber almost to thewater's edge. Wild fowl skimmed over its glassy surface, or dipped insearch of its finny prey, and here and there a heron might be detectedstanding in some shallow nook, and feasting on the smaller fry. A flightof cawing rooks were settling upon the tall trees on the right bank, andthe voices of the thrush, the blackbird, and other feathered songstersburst in redundant melody from the nearer groves.
A verdant path, partly beneath the trees, and partly on the side of thelake, led Wolsey to the forester's hut. Constructed of wood and clay,with a thatched roof, green with moss, and half overgrown with ivy, thelittle building was in admirable keeping with the surrounding scenery.Opposite the door, and opening upon the lake, stood a little boathouse,and beside it a few wooden steps, defended by a handrail, ran intothe water. A few yards beyond the boathouse the brook before mentionedemptied its waters into the lake.
Gazing with much internal satisfaction at the hut, Wolsey bade Patchdismount, and ascertain whether Mabel was within. The buffoon obeyed,tried the door, and finding it fastened, knocked, but to no purpose.
After a pause of a few minutes, the cardinal was turning away in extremedisappointment, when a small skiff, rowed by a female hand, shot roundan angle of the lake and swiftly approached them. A glance from Patchwould have told Wolsey, had he required any such information, that thiswas the forester's granddaughter. Her beauty quite ravished him, anddrew from him an exclamation of wonder and delight. Features regular,exquisitely moulded, and of a joyous expression, a skin dyed like apeach by the sun, but so as to improve rather than impair its hue; eyesbright, laughing, and blue as a summer sky; ripe, ruddy lips, and pearlyteeth; and hair of a light and glossy brown, constituted the sum ofher attractions. Her sylph-like figure was charmingly displayed bythe graceful exercise on which she was engaged, and her small hands,seemingly scarcely able to grasp an oar, impelled the skiff forwardswith marvellous velocity, and apparently without much exertion on herpart.
Unabashed by the presence of the strangers, though Wolsey's attire couldleave her in no doubt as to his high ecclesiastical dignity, she sprangashore at the landing-place, and fastened her bark to the side of theboathouse.
"You are Mabel Lyndwood, I presume, fair maiden?" inquired the cardinal,in his blandest tones.
"Such is my name, your gr
ace," she replied; "for your garb tells me I amaddressing Cardinal Wolsey."
The cardinal graciously inclined his head.
"Chancing to ride in this part of the forest," he said, "and havingheard of your beauty, I came to see whether the reality equalled thedescription, and I find it far transcends it."
Mabel blushed deeply, and cast down her eyes.
"Would that Henry could see her now!" thought the cardinal, "AnneBoleyn's reign were nigh at an end.--How long have you dwelt in thiscottage, fair maid?" he added aloud.
"My grandsire, Tristram Lyndwood, has lived here fifty years and more,"replied Mabel, "but I have only been its inmate within these few weeks.Before that time I lived at Chertsey, under the care of one of the laysisters of the monastery there--Sister Anastasia."
"And your parents--where are they?" asked the cardinal curiously.
"Alas! your grace, I have none," replied Mabel with a sigh. "TristramLyndwood is my only living relative. He used to come over once a monthto see me at Chertsey--and latterly, finding his dwelling lonely, forhe lost the old dame who tended it for him, he brought me to dwell withhim. Sister Anastasia was loth to part with me--and I was grieved toleave her--but I could not refuse my grandsire."
"Of a surety not," replied the cardinal musingly, and gazing hard ather. "And you know nothing of your parents?"
"Little beyond this," replied Mabel:--"My father was a keeper of theforest, and being unhappily gored by a stag, perished of the wound--fora hurt from a hart's horn, as your grace knows, is certain death; andmy mother pined after him and speedily followed him to the grave. Iwas then placed by my grandsire with Sister Anastasia, as I have justrelated--and this is all my history."
"A simple yet a curious one," said Wolsey, still musing. "You are thefairest maid of low degree I ever beheld. You saw the king at the chasethe other day, Mabel?"
"Truly, did I, your grace," she replied, her eyes brightening and hercolour rising; "and a right noble king he is."
"And as gentle and winning as he is goodly to look upon," said Wolsey,smiling.
"Report says otherwise," rejoined Mabel.
"Report speaks falsely," cried Wolsey; "I know him well, and he is whatI describe him."
"I am glad to hear it," replied Mabel; "and I must own I formed the sameopinion myself--for the smile he threw upon me was one of the sweetestand kindliest I ever beheld."
"Since you confess so much, fair maiden," rejoined Wolsey, "I will beequally frank, and tell you it was from the king's own lips I heard ofyour beauty."
"Your grace!" she exclaimed.
"Well, well," said Wolsey, smiling, "if the king is bewitched, I cannotmarvel at it. And now, good day, fair maiden; you will hear more of me."
"Your grace will not refuse me your blessing?" said Mabel.
"Assuredly not, my child," replied Wolsey, stretching his hands overher. "All good angels and saints bless you, and hold you in theirkeeping. Mark my words: a great destiny awaits you; but in all changes,rest assured you will find a friend in Cardinal Wolsey."
"Your grace overwhelms me with kindness," cried Mabel; "nor can Iconceive how I have found an interest in your eyes--unless SisterAnastasia or Father Anslem, of Chertsey Abbey, may have mentioned me toyou."
"You have found a more potent advocate with me than either SisterAnastasia or Father Anselm," replied Wolsey; "and now, farewell."
And turning the head of his mule, he rode slowly away.
On the same day there was a great banquet in the castle, and, as usual,Wolsey took his station on the right of the sovereign, while the papallegate occupied a place on the left. Watching a favourable opportunity,Wolsey observed to Henry that he had been riding that morning in theforest, and had seen the loveliest damsel that eyes ever fell upon.
"Ah! by our Lady! and who may she be?" asked the king curiously.
"She can boast little in regard to birth, being grandchild to an oldforester," replied Wolsey; "but your majesty saw her at the huntingparty the other day."
"Ah, now I bethink me of her," said Henry. "A comely damsel, in goodsooth."
"I know not where her match is to be found," cried the cardinal. "Wouldyour majesty had seen her skim over the lake in a fairy boat managed byherself, as I beheld her this morning. You would have taken her for awater-sprite, except that no water-sprite was half so beautiful."
"You speak in raptures, cardinal," cried Henry. "I must see thisdamsel again. Where does she dwell? I have heard, but it has slipped mymemory."
"In a hut near the great lake," replied Wolsey. "There is some mysteryattached to her birth, which I have not yet fathomed."
"Leave me to unriddle it," replied the king laughingly.
And he turned to talk on other subjects to Campeggio, but Wolsey feltsatisfied that the device was successful. Nor was he mistaken. As Henryretired from the banquet, he motioned the Duke of Suffolk towards him,and said, in an undertone--"I shall go forth at dusk to-morrow even indisguise, and shall require your attendance."
"On a love affair?" asked the duke, in the same tone.
"Perchance," replied Henry; "but I will explain myself more fully anon."
This muttered colloquy was overheard by Patch, and faithfully reportedby him to the cardinal.