by Mary Hooper
I offered to go, for Merryl and Beth having not yet emerged from their bedrooms, my nursemaid duties for the day had scarce begun.
‘Whoever it is – tell them they’ll be paid when Master says they’ll be paid! And that they’ve got the cheek of the Devil to come lording it to the front door.’
But when I opened it, it wasn’t the fishmonger, the draper or the butcher who was standing there demanding money, but a swarthy man holding a chestnut horse. He was dressed in fine livery of black plush velvet with a high ruff and lace at his cuffs, and in all looked so very grand that on seeing him I regret my mouth dropped open like that of a codfish.
Nodding at me briefly, he announced himself as equerry to the Queen of England. The queen, I thought, and, quite overcome, I thanked heaven that I was wearing my new undersmock and had combed my hair that morning, then sank into as deep a curtsey as if she was standing in front of me herself. When I rose from this, the equerry was still there, waiting, looking impassive.
From the kitchen Mistress Midge roared, ‘Tell the boil-brained guttersnipe he’ll have to wait for payment same as everyone else, and if he doesn’t like it then may his fly-bitten backside take fire.’
Praying the equerry hadn’t heard this, I curtseyed again, trying to gain time. Should I ask him in, or leave him on the doorstep, so I could go and find a member of the family? If he came in, where should he go? Was I to take him to the kitchen? And what, then, was to happen to the horse he held? That couldn’t come to the kitchen …
Merryl rescued me, wandering up in bare feet, wearing a dressing jacket of her mother’s, which trailed along the floor. ‘Papa heard you coming,’ she said to the man. ‘He said to tell you that he awaits the queen’s pleasure.’
The equerry nodded. ‘Kindly tell your Dr Dee that Her Grace intends to visit him this morning.’
‘I will,’ Merryl said solemnly. She bobbed a curtsey and I did likewise, and then she closed the door.
I looked at her excitedly, ruffling her hair. ‘The queen is coming!’ I said. ‘We must give you curls in your hair, put it back with pretty clips, make sure your new ruffs are ironed and get you dressed in your finest clothes.’
‘If you wish,’ she said with a yawn.
‘Oh, we’ll not see Gloriana,’ Mistress Midge said. ‘What do you think – that she’ll come along to the kitchen here and sit by the fire with a pipkin of ale in her hand? No, she’ll be consulting the master in his library.’
‘But I must get a glimpse of her!’ I exclaimed. ‘Will she come on her own?’
Mistress Midge shook her head. ‘She’ll come with her lady-in-waiting – maybe two or three of them – her fool, perhaps, certainly some of her senior ministers and her food taster. She may even bring her personal physician, if she’s feeling a bit out of sorts.’
‘And where will they all go?’ I asked, envisaging them milling around in corridors, not finding enough stools to sit upon and being pounced upon and having their hair pulled by the monkey.
‘What usually happens is that they are received in the library,’ said the cook. ‘We’ll set two lots of chairs in there, and she and Dr Dee will sit at one end and speak in confidence, while her servants will be at the other.’ She sniffed. ‘Kelly will hear of it and turn up, no doubt! That beslubbering coxcomb won’t allow Dr Dee to have Her Grace all to himself.’
‘And will she eat here?’
She shook her head. ‘Sometimes in the heat she takes a little cold Rhenish to drink, or on a dull day like today she may have mulled wine. Her taster will bring a flask of wine for that, though, for Her Grace’s tastes are elevated and not like those of the common folk.’
I sighed, fascinated by all this information, and dwelling on this most amazing and astounding occurrence: that Queen Elizabeth, our reigning monarch, was actually going to be under the same roof as I was.…
‘Do you think she will ever marry?’ I asked. ‘Do you think it’s too late for her to have an heir?’
Mistress Midge sniffed. ‘She won’t marry if she knows what’s good for her.’
‘How so?’
‘Why should any woman content herself to be a tethered heifer?’
I smiled at this. ‘But do you think she loves anyone?’
‘Tush,’ said Mistress Midge. ‘If you’re the queen, love doesn’t come into it. If she has to marry then it will be for the good of the country.’
I gazed out of the kitchen window, wondering if there was any little thing I could do to make myself useful to her. There is a ballad, oft sung, of good Sir Walter Raleigh putting his best cloak over a puddle so that she wouldn’t get her feet wet. Maybe I could do something like that, so that Her Grace would notice me and raise me. Maybe, then, she’d take me into Court and make me one of her attendants, as Lady Ashe had been.
After they’d breakfasted, the children were summoned upstairs to be with their mother, for it was hoped that the queen might wish to see Arthur and bless him with a gold coin. Mistress Midge and I went to the library and made up the fires, dusted the chairs and stools, swept up the old rushes and put down new. After this, I went to put on a fresh bodice and found myself spoilt for choice, for I was now the proud owner of four complete outfits, which could be matched each bodice with another skirt to make many more. Looking at them all, I only wished that Ma and my sisters could know of my good fortune, for being the youngest in the family, I’d always had to manage with their hand-me-downs and had never had more than two outfits to my name before.
After some consideration I wore my new under-smock with the green bodice and grey skirt, then washed my face and put my hair back with a ribband, allowing a few tendrils to escape around my face and curling these with my finger so that I didn’t look too severe. I was anxious to look neat and comely, for even if I didn’t come face to face with Her Grace I was bound to make some passing acquaintance with her serving men and women, those fortunate servants who lived at Court and saw her every day.
The royal knock on the door came while I was still in my room, before I’d had time to position myself at the window giving the best view. I knew that Dr Dee himself was going to usher in the queen, so I sped down the staircase as quickly as I could, hoping to hide around the corner of the corridor and see the royal party going into the library. I was a little too early, however, for they were still greeting each other in the doorway and I could hear calls of ‘Your servant, Madam!’, ‘Your servant, Sir!’ and so on.
The staircase on which I was standing almost faced the door of the library, which stood open and empty before me. Gazing on this door I suddenly thought of the secret space I’d discovered, the excellent place to hide, and in the space of a moment I was through the door, into the fireplace and settled in the hidey-hole before I could ponder whether or not this might be a wise move.
Once in there, heart thudding, I crouched on the stool. Whatever had possessed me to do such a thing? It was surely not a wise move …
I didn’t have time to change my mind, though, for almost immediately there were noises at the library door; the sound of feet rustling on the rushes, the swish of the ladies’ immense farthingale skirts and the murmur of voices as people entered. And then the door closed behind them all.
I tried to turn myself to stone and make my breathing light and shallow. I was hardly more than a body’s length away from the Queen of England! The thought terrified and excited me so much that I felt almost faint with the thrill of it.
There came some laughter. Someone – whether man or woman I couldn’t tell – called in a strange, high voice, ‘How now, Mistress!’ and I heard light footsteps scampering, followed by the sound of applause. This continued for a moment or two and I took the opportunity to shift my body slightly, so that a slice of the outside room could be glimpsed through a crack where the limestone fireplace met the wall. But this glimpse hardly satisfied my curiosity, for I couldn’t see the queen, just Dr Dee in his trailing black gown and another object – I didn’t know what at first – rol
ling backwards and forwards, first out of my vision, then back into it. After further laughter and applause, however, I realised that the rolling figure must be the queen’s jester, performing some sort of jollity.
When this movement ceased, Dr Dee moved to one side and was then joined by a woman wearing a dazzling gown of emerald green silk, decorated with jewels and ornamented with embroidery so lavish that I knew this must be the clothing of the queen, for I had never seen any fabric so splendid in all my life. I heard Dr Dee say, ‘Would it please you to be seated, Your Grace?’ and prickles of pleasure and excitement ran down my arms.
There came the sound of laughter, very light, and a voice – a queenly voice, for sure – saying, ‘We will, Dr Dee, for we were out a-hawking in the park before breakfast this morning and our royal limbs are somewhat weary.’
I heard movement and murmuring from the top end of the room, by the stained-glass window, but the queen and Dr Dee were seated lower down and, fortunately, close to the fireplace where I was hidden. I couldn’t see either of them entirely, but could hear most of what was said.
‘Your wife has been brought to bed, we understand,’ said the queen, her voice grave and well-modulated.
‘She has, Your Grace.’
‘And mother and child are well?’
‘Indeed. They are in good health, if it please Your Grace.’
‘Our congratulations. And so you have an heir, now?’
‘Arthur,’ Dr Dee confirmed. His voice rose eagerly, ‘He was born on a most auspicious day, Your Grace, and I have cast his chart and found that he has the Moon in Sagittarius and many other houses in sage signs, which means that he will have great qualities as a magician and seer.’
‘How extremely fortunate for you,’ said the queen. There was a pause, then she said, ‘And how go your experiments, Dr Dee?’ Her voice lowered slightly, ‘How close are you to finding the elixir? That certain elixir?’
Dr Dee cleared his throat. ‘Rest assured that Mr Kelly and myself are diligently employing everything in our power to bring about the creation of this for Your Grace’s pleasure.’
‘Then continue apace,’ said the queen, adding wryly, ‘for we have already passed the first age of beauty.’
‘Not so, Your Grace,’ came the quick reply. ‘May I say that Your Grace has an inner loveliness enough to put the full moon to shame.’
‘Ah, good Dr Dee,’ the queen said, and I heard a smile in her voice, ‘if only all our subjects could see us through your eyes.’ There was a pause. ‘But there is another matter, and we have brought someone who needs your advice.’
How kind she sounded, I marvelled. How cultured, how gracious.
I think she must have turned and beckoned someone, for a moment later I heard, coming from the other end of the room, the heavy steps of a man wearing boots and stirrups.
‘This is Sir Calum Vaizey, one of our most trusted ministers,’ the queen said to Dr Dee. ‘He has a particular desire to speak with you on a matter dear to his heart.’
Dr Dee rose and I saw the two men bow to each other, then the new man began speaking, often breaking off to dab his face or blow his nose. What I understood from his fractured speech, however, was that his daughter, a girl of eighteen who had been handmaid to the queen, had taken her own life.
‘I am at fault,’ he said, his voice gruff with emotion, ‘for I would not let Alice choose her own sweetheart, but instead sought to marry her to a rich acquaintance. She said she would not, I insisted that she would, and soon after the wedding she … she …’ His voice became choked and I could distinguish no more.
There was a short silence. ‘Our children are a trial to us and a source of sorrow,’ Dr Dee said piously.
‘She died because I insisted on her marrying someone she despised,’ said the man.
‘But why do you seek my help?’ Dr Dee asked. ‘Is it for a draught to take away melancholy?’
‘No,’ the man choked. ‘I yearn to see Alice again and ask her forgiveness.’
I heard this and, struck with horror, drew in my breath a little too sharply – then became alarmed in case someone had heard. There was a long pause in the conversation, during which I tried to steady both my breathing and my pounding heart.
‘What you seek is forbidden,’ said Dr Dee after a moment.
‘But I know that you’ve raised spirits in the past. I’ve heard that you can speak with angels, so mayhap you can speak with my Alice.’
‘But this …’ ‘
I’m willing to pay twenty gold coins if I can speak to Alice again!’
I was startled enough to sit upright, wondering if I’d heard correctly.
Dr Dee made no reply.
‘Thirty, then! Thirty gold coins for just two minutes with my daughter.’
My mouth was agape with wonder at this. Thirty gold coins. I could hardly envisage such a sum, or what might be purchased with it.
There was a long pause before Dr Dee asked, very low, ‘Where is she buried?’
‘She died when the Court was at Richmond. She’s buried in the churchyard next to the royal chapel,’ came the reply.
‘In the churchyard?’ Dr Dee enquired.
The other said, ‘I had her death recorded as an accident to enable her to be buried close to the queen’s apartments.’
‘I will consult my charts and see if such a thing is possible,’ said Dr Dee after a further pause. ‘I can make no promises.’ He moved to a table and there came the scratching of a quill pen on parchment. He asked, ‘What date did she die, sir?’
‘’Twas the fifteenth of September.’
‘And what was the date of her birth?’
‘The twenty-first of April.’
My heart gave a little jump at this, for it was my own birthday.
‘I will contact you,’ said Dr Dee. The two gentlemen bowed to each other and then came the jingling of spurs as he walked back to the far end of the room.
I don’t think the queen had uttered a word all this time, but after the man retreated she said pleasantly to Dr Dee, ‘May we set eyes on the contents of your box today?’
‘Your Grace …’ came the reply, and he crossed my line of vision once more and, I believe, went to the table on which rested the little chest. He then walked back to the queen and I heard a faint squeak as a key turned and an exclamation from the queen. ‘Oh, such pretty things,’ she said. ‘And so potent in the right hands.’
How my curiosity burned! How I longed to see what it was that she was seeing. But I sat, utterly immobile, until she, after laughing a little and making small exclamations of delight, said, ‘Thank you, Dr Dee,’ and the chest was returned to the table.
***
Shortly after, the queen and her attendants left to go to the nearby Walsingham household. I never found out how many servants were with her that day, but I judged them to be about ten in number, and from the crack in the fireplace wall saw them leaving in a blur of brilliant-coloured silks and braiding, plumes of feathers, ornately decorated hats and starched white ruffs.
I listened to Dr Dee at the front door bidding them farewell – for they did not visit Mistress Dee in her chamber – and then, the room being perfectly quiet, judged it to be empty.
Gingerly, for I’d grown stiff and cold, I began to move out of the fireplace. I thought I’d attend the fire or do some other simple task which was an acceptable reason for being in there. I did not get this far, however, for the moment I peered around the fireplace I looked into the large and whiskered face of a cat. A human cat.
I think I screamed. I certainly gasped with fright and surprise.
‘How now, Mistress?’ it said, grasping my hand in a surprisingly strong, furred grip and pulling me close. ‘I have been a-waiting for you.’
I didn’t speak, for I was frightened out of my wits.
‘And although I may only be a cat, I am tiger enough to kill a traitor!’
I would have cried out that I was certainly not a traitor but was unable to,
for my assailant had backed me hard against the wall and, staring at me with malevolence in his eyes, was gripping tightly around my neck with both hands.
Chapter Ten
I was terribly frightened, for I knew well that the queen’s person was considered sacred and that spying on her was a treasonable offence.
‘Why were you concealed in the fireplace? Who do you work for? Tell me quickly and I can kill you all the sooner.’
‘I … I …’ I began, but I was, in fact, too frightened to say anything. Besides, his hands were still constricting my throat so that I could hardly draw breath.
‘Speak, or this cat shall have your tongue,’ he said. ‘Yes, and your heart and entrails too, and they shall hang from the chimney of the house so that ravens may peck at them.’
I shuddered. The young man – for I could tell his age from his voice – was not tall for one of that sex, perhaps a little above my own height, but I knew from the sheer force of his grip that he was strong and well-muscled. He was wearing a black velvet doublet edged with white fur but I could see little of his hair or features, for the cat’s mask covered most of his face, finishing under his nose with a flourish of whiskers.
‘I have met your sort before,’ he said, increasing the pressure on my throat. ‘Prinked up to look like a maid, but with a dagger concealed in your bodice.’
I shook my head violently, indicating with my free hand that he was preventing me from speaking. He loosened his grip on me somewhat.
‘Speak, then, and be quick about it, and let’s get you off to the Tower without more ado.’
I rubbed at my throat, for it was paining me where his fingers had pressed into the flesh. ‘I … I am no traitor,’ I stammered. ‘I merely wanted to set eyes on the queen. I have long admired her.’
He gave a short and scornful laugh. ‘You admire her!’ he said. ‘I have heard many an excuse for being too close to Her Grace, but have not heard this before.’
His eyes were looking at me through the slits in the mask, weighing me up. They were not green like a cat’s, but a silvery grey, and very cold.
