by Mary Hooper
Our first glimpse of the fair came just as dusk was falling and the air was soft and misty all around. Viewed under these conditions any place can take on a kind of enchantment, but to come around the bend in the river by Hampton, to hear music playing and see the frost fair from a distance, lit at each side of the river by huge baskets of burning coals, was truly a glimpse of a kind of faeryland, and those who were on the cart jumped down and began to run along the tow path in order to reach the fair the sooner.
I’d remembered to bring some money with me, and this was soon required, for we found that the ferrymen, deprived of their usual income, had taken over the frozen river and were charging a penny for every person (and six pence for horse and carriage) to come down the bank on to the ice. Once safely down, I took Merryl and Beth by the hand and made them promise not to stray too far from me, for – perhaps attracted by the aristocracy parading the ice in their fine furs – I could see several knavish looking fellows who were no doubt out for a day’s mischief and pickpocketing.
The frozen river had been smoothed over and brushed with sand to make walking easier, and between the two banks stakes had been dug into the ice, with a candle placed atop of each, so that the greater part of the fair was contained in a long, straight roadway between the two opposing riverbanks. Inside this boundary were rows of booths, some selling foodstuffs and others containing various side-shows and all the usual fun of the fair: a counting dog, a pig said to be able to speak its name, peddlers selling singing birds and pretty trifles for the ladies. Outside these confines were other activities: a sledge you could sit in and be pushed along the ice, some ponies trotting on straw, a swing-chair and a boat upon wheels, this latter with its sail outspread ready to take you along to a nearby island said to be famous for its eel pies. At another booth you could, if you were so minded, hire wooden skates which had come all the way from Holland, and a man was demonstrating these by spinning around and around in a marvellous way and attracting a large crowd.
We walked around looking at everything, at first setting down our feet gently and with some trepidation, but soon discovering that in a short while all seemed quite safe and natural and you could forget that you were walking on something so slippery.
Passing another booth, Beth gave a sudden shrill scream.
‘Look down!’ she instructed us. ‘Look down beneath your feet!’
Merryl and I did so and shrieked as well, for where we were standing the ice had been polished clear so that one could see through it right down to the bottom of the river, where – by what miracle I couldn’t say – a woman could be seen, quite dead, lying in a boat, her shroud loose and her hair floating about her.
‘’Tis the lady of the lake.’ A knave who had been standing to one side now sprung forward. ‘And you have spied her in her pretty boat coffin. That will be three pence each, if you please.’
‘But we didn’t want to see her!’ I said straight, and would have liked to add that it was a river and not a lake, so how could she have been the lady of one? ‘’Tis only that we walked over her and there was no help for it.’
He winked at me. ‘Those that see the lady of the lake find that special good fortune follows them. Nine pence, if you please.’
‘But I can’t afford this special good fortune!’ I said, feeling in my pocket and realising that I had but ten pence in total.
‘Tell you what,’ he said, ‘you look an honest girl. I’ll do you an excellent good price – three pence for you all!’
I tried to refuse him payment, but he became so threatening that I got scared and gave him the money he asked for. Walking on quickly, I told the girls to look straight ahead and neither up, down, nor into any of the booths in case they saw something which might have to be paid for.
We each had a puff-paste biscuit, then a spiced chicken wing cooked atop of a brazier, and some warm milk fresh from the cow (for there were two such animals on the ice; their hooves well muffled with straw) and I was only surprised that I didn’t see Isabelle there, selling her wares. We watched some maids dancing, fine and nimble, passed a bear-baiting and heard a ballad sung about a girl dying of love, the singer having his audience sobbing mightily by the end.
Darkness fell and, tired by now, we stopped to watch a playlet about two men in love with the same woman. There were many vulgar words spoken (or so I presumed from the coarse laughter which ensued) but I was not concerned because these were given in French. It was only when I saw Merryl and Beth giggling together that I remembered that they could speak this language, and moved them on quickly.
There was much to see, all manner of jollities, but the frozen ice under our feet at last began to chill us right through, and my thoughts turned to the journey home. Walking back to our side of the river, however, we were halted by a banner declaring: See Jack Frost and the Merry Chimney Sweep, and the sight of two men, one all in white and one in black, turning somersaults, each holding the other’s feet and tumbling over and over.
‘Is that the real Jack Frost?’ Beth said in awe. ‘The one that paints all the windows every morning?’
I smiled at her, nodding. ‘I think it must be.’
‘Is it safe to watch them perform?’ Merryl whispered to me. ‘Is there a charge for it?’
‘It doesn’t say anything . . .’ I said, looking about us. I felt in my pocket: I was down to my last three pence and knew we’d need this in order to pay the ferryman’s toll to get off the river. ‘But we won’t stay long, just in case.’
We marvelled at the two young men, who were agile indeed, turning together like a black and white wheel, circling like tops on their backs and holding each other’s ankles and spinning around on the ice.
Finishing, they sprang apart and bowed to their audience, who applauded with enthusiasm and tossed coins, and Beth looked at me so reproachfully here that I dug down in my pocket again and, finding a halfpenny, gave it to her to throw. This was caught in one hand by Jack Frost, who then leapt on to a tightrope several feet above the ground and proceeded to heel-and-toe it along, as adept on a rope as he was on the ground.
When he jumped down, the merry chimney sweep took over, but he was not as clever and slipped from the rope once or twice. We watched him for a while and then began to walk to the bank, whereupon Jack Frost seemed to appear out of nowhere, springing out in front of us and making the two girls shriek with surprise.
‘Madam! Is a halfpenny all we’re worth?’ he asked.
Seen close up, his appearance was a little frightening, for his face was a frosty-white mask dotted with glittering spangles and he wore a circlet of silver points around his head.
But I wasn’t going to be cowed again, and spoke up firmly. ‘I’m sure you’re worth much more, Sir, but a halfpenny is all I have to spare.’
‘Then you must return here another time and pay your debt!’
‘I will not!’ I said indignantly. I glanced down at Beth and Merryl, who were looking from one to the other of us in awe.
‘Pay me . . . or have your window panes obscured by Jack Frost and his icy ferns every day of the year – aye, even in summer.’
There was something in the manner in which he said this, something about the tilt of his head and the look in his eyes . . . which were a silvery grey. ‘Is it . . . ?’ I asked, peering at him uncertainly. ‘Are you not . . . ?’
Beth whispered something to Merryl, who whispered back, then both began laughing. ‘’Tis Tom-fool!’ Merryl said.
I smiled, delighted. ‘Tomas!’
He bowed to me, then kissed the hands of Beth and Merryl with some flourishes and a deal of ceremony, which they loved.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.
‘Most of the court are here, if you know where to look.’
Hearing this, I almost forgot the long walk home. ‘Are they? Then we must go and look for them, and see who we can see!’ For of course I was thinking that Her Grace might have attended.
Tomas shook his head, smiling. ‘She
is not,’ he said, seeming to understand my thoughts. ‘And anyway, all the ladies are masked and in disguise.’ Taking a silver coin from his pocket, he flicked it into the air for Beth to catch. ‘There’s a booth yonder selling hot honey—, ‘ he began, and the girls had disappeared before he’d finished the sentence.
We looked at each other and I studied his face intently, trying to judge how he might look normally, without mask and silver spangles, for although we’d met four or five times now, he’d always been in disguise.
‘You’ve saved me a journey,’ he said in a low voice, ‘for I was coming to the magician’s house tomorrow to tell you that there is a mission we wish you to undertake.’
My heart quickened. ‘But who is we?’
‘Walsingham is behind all – but ‘tis better that you know no other names,’ he said, making me recall my similar words to Miss Charity.
‘Her Grace came to visit Dr Dee and said I should accompany him to the palace over yuletide,’ I told him, ‘but I didn’t know if this was to commence my duties to her, or merely because she found me a novelty.’
Tomas didn’t enlighten me about this point. ‘We will require your presence before that,’ was all he said.
‘And what would I have to do?’ I asked eagerly.
‘Merely watch and follow one of Her Grace’s ladies-in-waiting.’ He looked about us to ensure no one was close by. ‘I will tell you briefly: she is named Madeleine Pryor and it is feared she may be involved in some plot or other, for she often disappears in the evenings when the other ladies are occupied making music together, or dancing. It seems that if ever there’s something going on which will screen her movements, then she vanishes.’
‘But why should that mean she’s plotting?’
He shook his head. ‘There are many under suspicion, and much doubt and mistrust throughout the Court at the moment, for you surely know that enemies of the queen are trying to raise an army to depose her and put the Catholic Mary Queen of Scots on to the throne of England instead.’
I nodded.
‘Madeleine Pryor is Catholic also. And Walsingham gets ideas and feelings about people, which are not often wrong.’
‘But I thought that if one worshipped in private, one’s religious beliefs could be tolerated.’
‘It’s not Mistress Pryor being a follower of that religion that offends those close to the queen,’ Tomas said, ‘but the fact that she may be passing on information about her movements to her enemies, for as a lady-in-waiting she is privy to all that Her Grace does.’
‘So I just have to watch her, and if she disappears . . . ‘
‘. . . you must follow her. And possibly she may lead you to whoever she is consorting with.’ He took my hand in his. ‘You mustn’t put yourself in any danger – just follow and tell us where she goes and what you see.’
I let my hand remain in his for a pleasurable moment, until modesty decreed I should remove it. ‘And when should I come to the palace for this?’
‘In a few days’ time. The queen goes away on a private visit to her cousin in Chelsea tonight and will return to Richmond on Christmas Eve. There will be a celebration to welcome her back to Court and it’s thought that in the midst of this, Mistress Pryor will take the opportunity to disappear.’
I wanted to ask a score – nay, a hundred – questions, but I could see that Beth and Merryl were already on their way back to us. ‘But won’t I be noticed at the palace? Won’t it be seen that I’m a stranger?’
He smiled. ‘Madeleine would soon notice if another of the ladies-in-waiting were set to follow her, but she won’t notice you. There are nigh on a thousand or more servants at the palace, Lucy, and there will be a mighty crowd there to welcome the queen back for Christmas. You’ll be able to slip in and out like a fish through waterweed.’
I nodded, fearful excited.
‘And, Lucy –’
‘Yes?’
‘Keep your eyes and ears open at all times and tell no one what you are doing. Trust no one. No one at all.’
‘Isabelle?’ I asked.
‘Apart from Isabelle,’ he conceded, smiling.
The girls came up, yawning, their faces sticky with honey puffs, and Tomas arranged that one of the carts from the palace should take us home. A deal of people bound for Mortlake scrambled on the cart too, but we sat by the tail board where we would be able to see the frost fair until the last moment. My final, misty view of it, therefore, was of a brazier of coal burning so bright that it penetrated the gloom and, beside it, Tomas, his silver-white costume gleaming in the firelight and his halo glinting, waving to us until we turned the corner.
Chapter Eight
‘A gift from the queen?’ Two or three days later, on the Saturday before Christmas, I heard Merryl speaking to someone at our front door and on hearing the word queen, stopped what I was doing and ran up the hallway to see who it was.
‘At your service, Sir,’ I said to the youth who stood there. He was clearly not old enough to be addressed so, but if he came from Her Grace, he surely merited respect.
He bowed. ‘I bring the queen’s gift for Dr Dee,’ he said, indicating a cart behind him.
My heart leapt. Queen’s gift, I thought, and immediately visualised a chest full of treasure: gold coins, precious gems, strings of pearls and sparkling stones. I believe Merryl thought as I did, for when she looked up at me, her eyes were shining. ‘We have not had one of those before,’ she said.
I flung the door open wide, all the better to allow access to what I believed was forthcoming. ‘Please bring it in,’ I said.
The boy hesitated. ‘Where d’you want it, Mistress? In the kitchen?’
I frowned slightly. ‘The library would be a better place, perhaps.’
‘For a haunch of venison?’ he asked somewhat scornfully.
Merryl’s face fell, and I believe mine did, too.
‘The queen’s Christmas gift to Dr Dee is a fine haunch of venison from her own hunt!’ the boy said.
‘The kitchen. Of course,’ I said, and he went back to his cart, which I now saw was loaded with many similar items so that it stood similar to a butcher’s shop, and returned with half a red deer over his shoulder.
We led him into the kitchen.
‘A haunch of venison!’ I announced to Mistress Midge.
She paused from pouring a kettle of boiling water over shelled almonds in order to skin them, for she was again attempting to make the marchpane cake. ‘Lord above!’ she said, looking at the boy drooping under the weight of it. ‘How am I supposed to cook that great beastie? The turning spit has not been used for so long it has near rusted away.’
‘’Tis a Christmas gift from the queen,’ Merryl said reproachfully.
Mistress Midge gave the side of meat a mock curtsey. ‘Perhaps she will come and cook it, then,’ she said.
The youth’s knees were near-buckling. ‘Where d’you want it?’ he asked again, and we told him that he should hang it in the side passage, on one of a long row of meat-hooks.
He went away, and Merryl was asked to run and tell her father about the gift that had arrived. ‘’Twill send him into a fine spin,’ she confided to me when the girl had gone. ‘Last time he got a gift from the queen, some years back, he had to pawn half his specimens to buy her something in return.’
‘And what did he buy?’ I asked, for I could not imagine what one would give to a sovereign who regularly wore gold and jewels enough to sink a kingdom.
‘Some articles of silver plate,’ she answered. ‘But Mistress Dee told me he had many sleepless nights worrying that they weren’t good enough.’
I was about to ask more when Dr Dee himself ran into the kitchen, demanding to see the venison. Mistress Midge indicated it was in the passageway and he went through, where I saw him looking it up and down most respectfully, as if it showed its royal provenance. He came back into the kitchen rubbing his hands. ‘We must have a grand dinner, Mistress Midge,’ he said, ‘at which the glorious centre
piece will be the queen’s gift.’
‘Oh yes, Sir?’ said that lady without enthusiasm.
‘We will have it cooked the old way, larded with butter and cloves and basted with claret wine and cinnamon, and serve peacock and artichoke pie alongside it, and calf’s head and bacon, and soused turbot and . . .’
‘I beg your pardon, Sir,’ interrupted Mistress Midge, ‘but who will cook and serve all these birds and beasts? Are you forgetting that we no longer have staff here, and that I am the sole cook?’
‘We will hire staff!’ said Dr Dee. ‘We will hire cooks, gentlemen ushers to wait at table and a carver solely to slice the queen’s magnificent deer.’
Mistress Midge’s face began to redden, her mouth twitch. ‘Very good, Sir,’ was all she said.
‘We will show everyone that the Dee household is still a renowned and wealthy one.’
‘And when do you intend all this to take place?’ she asked with barely suppressed wrath.
‘Over the festive period,’ replied Dr Dee, ‘and the Walsinghams will be our guests.’
He swept out, but before the kitchen door had closed behind him, Mistress Midge’s face had purpled and she’d gained – or seemed to have gained – a full six inches in height. She made an indescribable noise, something between a growl and a roar of fury. ‘Lord above!’ she shouted. ‘Whatever does the man expect of me?’
Merryl and I began to move towards the door.
‘As if I’m not already run into the ground with work! As if my poor bones are not aged before their time and my legs as thin as sticks with having to constantly run hither and thither.’ She paused for breath and Merryl and I slid away as silent as wraiths.
‘As if my head is not wracked with pain every night thinking of all I will have to do the next day,’ her voice followed us. ‘As if . . .’ But we had reached the peace and sanctity of the school room, where I had the dusting to do and the fire to make up ready for Mr Sylvester’s arrival.
