Unknown to History: A Story of the Captivity of Mary of Scotland

by Charlotte M. Yonge

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  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 pane, smiling asshe said, "There, we will leave a memento over which the admirable Dr.Jones will gloat his philosophical soul. Never may I see thee more,Buxton, yet never thought I to be so happy as I have here been."

  She spoke with the tenderness of farewell to the spot which had alwaysbeen the pleasantest abode of the various places of durance which hadbeen hers in England. Each year she had hoped would be her last ofsuch visits, but on this occasion everything seemed to point to a closeto the present state of things, since not only were the negotiationswith Scotland apparently prosperous, but Lord Shrewsbury had obtainedan absolute promise from Elizabeth that she would at all events relievehim from his onerous and expensive charge. Thus there was generalcheerfulness, as the baggage was bestowed in carts and on beasts ofburthen, and Mary, as she stood finishing her inscription on thewindow, smiled sweetly and graciously on Mistress Talbot, and gave herjoy of the arrival of her towardly and hopeful son, adding, "Wesurprised him at the well! May his Cis, who is yet to be found, Itrow, reward his lealty!"

  That was all the notice Mary deigned to take of the former relationsbetween her daughter and young Talbot. She did not choose again to begfor secrecy when she was sure to hear that she had been forestalled,and she was too consummate a judge of character not to have learntthat, though she might despise the dogged, simple straightforwardnessof Richard and Susan Talbot, their honour was perfectly trustworthy.She was able for the present to keep her daughter almost entirely toherself, since, on the return to Sheffield, the former state of thingswas resumed. The Bridgefield family was still quartered in theManor-house, and Mistress Talbot continued to be, as it were, LadyWarder to the captive in the place of the Countess, who obstinatelyrefused to return while Mary was still in her husband's keeping.Cicely, as Mary's acknowledged favourite, was almost always in herapartments, except at the meals of the whole company of Shrewsburykinsfolk and retainers, when her place was always far removed from thatof Humfrey. In truth, if ever an effort might have obtained a fewseconds of private conversation, a strong sense of embarrassment andperplexity made the two young people fly apart rather than cometogether. They knew not what they wished. Humfrey might in his secretsoul long for a token that Cis remembered his faithful affection, andyet he knew that to elicit one might do her life-long injury. So,however he might crave for word or look when out of sight of her, anhonourable reluctance always withheld him from seeking any such sign inthe short intervals when he could have tried to go beneath the surface.On the other hand, this apparent indifference piqued her pride, andmade her stiff, cold, and almost disdainful whenever there was anyapproach between them. Her vanity might be flattered by the knowledgethat she was beyond his reach; but it would have been still moregratified could she have discovered any symptoms of pining andlanguishing after her. She might peep at him from under her eyelashesin chapel and in hall; but in the former place his gaze always seemedto be on the minister, in the latter he showed no signs of flagging asa trencher companion. Both mothers thought her marvellously discreet;but neither beheld the strange tumult in her heart, where were surgingpride, vanity, ambition, and wounded affection.

  In a few days, Sir Ralf Sadler and his son-in-law Mr. Somer arrived atSheffield in order to take the charge of the prisoner whilst Shrewsburywent to London. The conferences and consultations were endless, andharassing, and it was finally decided that the Earl should escort herto Wingfield, and, leaving her there under charge of Sadler, shouldproceed to London. She made formal application for Mistress CicelyTalbot to accompany her as one of her suite, and her supposed parentscould not but give their consent, but six gentlewomen had been alreadyenumerated, and the authorities would not consent to her taking anymore ladies with her, and decreed that Mistress Cicely must remain athome.

  "This unkindness has made the parting from this place less joyous thanI looked for," said Mary, "but courage, ma mignonne. Soon shall I sendfor thee to Scotland, and there shalt thou burst thine husk, and showthyself in thy true colours;" and turning to Susan, "Madam, I mustcommit my treasure to her who has so long watched over her."

  "Your Grace knows that she is no less my treasure," said Susan.

  "I should have known it well," returned the Queen, "from the innocenceand guilelessness of the damsel. None save such a mother as MistressTalbot could have made her what she is. Credit me, madam, I havelooked well into her heart, and found nought to undo there. You havebred her up better than her poor mother could have done, and I gladlyentrust her once more to your care, assured that your well-tried honourwill keep her in mind of what she is, and to what she may be called."

  "She shall remember it, madam," said Susan.

  "When I am a Queen once more," said Mary, "all I can give will seem toopoor a meed for what you have been to my child. Even as Queen ofScotland or England itself, my power would be small in comparison withmy will. My gratitude, however, no bounds can limit out to me."

  And with tears of tenderness and thankfulness she kissed the cheeks andlips of good Mistress Talbot, who could not but likewise weep for themother thus compelled to part with her child.

  The night was partly spent in caresses and promises of the brilliantreception preparing in Scotland, with auguries of the splendid marriagein store, with a Prince of Lorraine, or even with an Archduke.

  Cis was still young enough to dream of such a lot as an opening to afairy land of princely glories. If her mother knew better, she stilllooked tenderly back on her beau pays de France with that halo ofbrightness which is formed only in childhood and youth. Moreover, itmight be desirable to enhance such aspiration as might best secure theyoung princess from anything derogatory to her real rank, while she wasstrongly warned against betraying it, and especially against anyassumption of dignity should she ever hear of her mother's release,reception, and recognition in Scotland. For whatever might be thematernal longings, it would be needful to feel the way and prepare theground for the acknowledgment of Bothwell's daughter in Scotland, whilethe knowledge of her existence in England would almost surely lead toher being detained as a hostage. She likewise warned the maiden neverto regard any letter or billet from her as fully read till it had beenheld--without witnesses--to the fire.

  Of Humfrey Talbot, Queen Mary scorned to say anything, or to utter asyllable that she thought a daughter of Scotland needed a warningagainst a petty English sailor. Indeed, she had confidence that theyouth's parents would view the attachment as quite as undesirable forhim as for the young princess, and would guard against it for his sakeas much as for hers.

  The true parting took place ere the household was astir. Afterwards,Mary, fully equipped for travelling, in a dark cloth riding-dress andhood, came across to the great hall of the Manor-house, and there satwhile each one of the attendants filed in procession, as it were,before her. To each lady she presented some small token wrought by herown hands. To each gentleman she also gave some trinket, such as theelaborate dress of the time permitted, and to each serving man or maida piece of money. Of each one she gravely but gently besought pardonfor all the displeasures or offences she might have caused them, and asthey replied, kissing her hand, many of them with tears, she returned akiss on the brow to each woman and an entreaty to be remembered intheir prayers, and a like request, with a pressure of the hand, to eachman or boy.

  It must have been a tedious ceremony, and yet to every one it seemed asif Mary put her whole heart into it, and to any to whom she owedspecial thanks they were freely paid.

  The whole was only over by an hour before noon. Then she partook of amanchet and a cup of wine, drinking, with liquid eyes, to the healthand prosperity of her good host, and to the restoration of his familypeace, which she had
so sorely, though unwittingly, disturbed.

  Then she let him hand her out, once more kissing Susan Talbot and Cis,who was weeping bitterly, and whispering to the latter, "Not over muchgrief, ma petite; not more than may befit, ma mignonne."

  Lord Shrewsbury lifted her on her horse, and, with him on one side andSir Ralf Sadler on the other, she rode down the long avenue on her wayto Wingfield.

  The Bridgefield family had already made their arrangements, and theirhorses were waiting for them amid the jubilations of Diccon and Ned.The Queen had given each of them a fair jewel, with special thanks tothem for being good brothers to her dear Cis. "As if one wanted thanksfor being good to one's own sister," said Ned, thrusting the delicatelittle ruby brooch on his mother to be taken care of till his days offoppery should set in, and he would need it for cap and plume.

  "Come, Cis, we are going home at last," said Diccon. "What! thou artnot breaking thine heart over yonder Scottish lady--when we are goinghome, home, I say, and have got rid of watch and ward for ever?Hurrah!" and he threw up his cap, and was joined in the shout by morethan one of the youngsters around, for Richard and most of the elderswere escorting the Queen out of the park, and Mistress Susan had beensummoned on some question of household stuff. Cis, however, stoodleaning against the balustrade, over which she had leant for the lastglance exchanged with her mother, her face hidden in her hands andkerchief, weeping bitterly, feeling as if all the glory and excitementof the last few weeks had vanished as a dream and left her to thedreary dulness of common life, as little insignificant Cis Talbot again.

  It was Humfrey who first came near, almost timidly touched her hand,and said, "Cheer up. It is but for a little while, mayhap. She willsend for thee. Come, here is thine old palfrey--poor old Dapple. Letme put thee on him, and for this brief time let us feign that all is asit was, and thou art my little sister once more."

  "I know not which is truth and which is dreaming," said Cis, waking upthrough her tears, but resigning her hand to him, and letting him lifther to her seat on the old pony which had been the playfellow of both.If it had been an effort to Humfrey to prolong the word Cis intosister, he was rewarded for it. It gave the key-note to theirintercourse, and set her at ease with him; and the idea that herpresent rustication was but a comedy instead of a reality was consolingin her present frame of mind. Mistress Susan, surrounded withimportunate inquirers as to household matters, and unable to escapefrom them, could only see that Humfrey had taken charge of the maiden,and trusted to his honour and his tact. This was, however, only thebeginning of a weary and perplexing time. Nothing could restore Cis toher old place in the Bridgefield household, or make her look upon itstasks, cares, and joys as she had done only a few short months ago.Her share in them could only be acting, and she was too artless andsimple to play a part. Most frequently she was listless, dull, andpining, so much inclined to despise and neglect the ordinary householdoccupations which befitted the daughter of the family, that her adoptedmother was forced, for the sake of her incognito, to rouse, and oftento scold her when any witnesses were present who would have thoughtMrs. Talbot's toleration of such conduct in a daughter suspicious andunnatural.

  Such reproofs were dangerous in another way, for Humfrey could not bearto hear them, and was driven nearly to the verge of disrespect andperilous approaches to implying that Cis was no ordinary person to besharply reproved when she sat musing and sighing instead of sewingDiccon's shirts.

  Even the father himself could not well brook to hear the girl blamed,and both he and Humfrey could not help treating her with a kind ofdeference that made the younger brothers gape and wonder what had cometo Humfrey on his travels "to make him treat our Cis as a bornprincess."

  "You irreverent varlets," said Humfrey, "you have yet to learn thatevery woman ought to be treated as a born princess."

  "By cock and pie," said spoilt Ned, "that beats all! One's own sister!"

  Whereupon Humfrey had the opportunity of venting a little of hisvexation by thrashing his brother for his oath, while sharp Dicconinnocently asked if men never swore by anything when at sea, andthereby nearly got another castigation for irreverent mocking of hiselder brother's discipline.

  At other times the girl's natural activity and high spirits gained theupper hand, and she would abandon herself without reserve to the oldhomely delights of Bridgefield. At the apple gathering, she wasrunning about, screaming with joy, and pelting the boys with apples,more as she had done at thirteen than at seventeen, and when called toorder she inconsistently pleaded, "Ah, mother! it is for the last time.Do but let me have my swing!" putting on a wistful and caressing look,which Susan did not withstand when the only companions were the threebrothers, since Humfrey had much of her own unselfishness andself-command, resulting in a discretion that was seldom at fault.

  And that discretion made him decide at a fortnight's end that hisfather had been right, and that it would be better for him to absenthimself from where he could do no good, but only added to the generalperplexity, and involved himself in the temptation of betraying theaffection he knew to be hopeless.

  Before, however, it was possible to fit out either Diccon or the fourmen who were anxious to go under the leadership of Master Humfrey ofBridgefield, the Earl and Countess of Shrewsbury were returning fullyreconciled. Queen Elizabeth had made the Cavendishes ask pardon ontheir knees of the Earl for their slanders; and he, in his joy, hadfreely forgiven all. Gilbert Talbot and his wife had shared in thegeneral reconciliation. His elder brother's death had made him theheir apparent, and all were coming home again, including the littleLady Arbell, once more to fill the Castle and the Manor-house, and torenew the free hospitable life of a great feudal chief, or of theQueen's old courtier, with doors wide open, and no ward or suspicion.

  Richard rejoiced that his sons, before going abroad, should witness thereturn to the old times which had been at an end before they couldremember Sheffield distinctly. The whole family were drawn up as usualto receive them, when the Earl and Countess arrived first of all at theManor-house.

  The Countess looked smaller, thinner, older, perhaps a trifle moreshrewish, but she had evidently suffered much, and was very glad tohave recovered her husband and her home.

  "So, Susan Talbot," was her salutation, "you have thriven, it seems.You have been playing the part of hostess, I hear."

  "Only so far as might serve his Lordship, madam."

  "And the wench, there, what call you her? Ay, Cicely. I hear theScottish Queen hath been cockering her up and making her her bedfellow,till she hath spoilt her for a reasonable maiden. Is it so? She looksit."

  "I trust not, madam," said Susan.

  "She grows a strapping wench, and we must find her a good husband tocurb her pride. I have a young man already in my eye for her."

  "So please your Ladyship, we do not think of marrying her as yet,"returned Susan, in consternation.

  "Tilly vally, Susan Talbot, tell me not such folly as that. Why, themaid is over seventeen at the very least! Save for all the coil thisScottish woman and her crew have made, I should have seen her wellmated a year ago."

  Here was a satisfactory prospect for Mistress Susan, bred as she hadbeen to unquestioning submission to the Countess. There was no more tobe said on that occasion, as the great lady passed on to bestow hernotice on others of her little court.

  Humfrey meantime had been warmly greeted by the younger men of thesuite, and one of them handed him a letter which filled him witheagerness. It was from an old shipmate, who wrote, not withoutsanction, to inform him that Sir Francis Drake was fitting out anexpedition, with the full consent of the Queen, to make a descent uponthe Spaniards, and that there was no doubt that if he presented himselfat Plymouth, he would obtain either the command, or at any rate thelieutenancy, of one of the numerous ships which were to becommissioned. Humfrey was before all else a sailor. He had made noengagement to Sir John Norreys, and many of the persons engaged on thisexpedition were already known to him. It was believe
d that the attackwas to be upon Spain itself, and the notion filled him with ardour andexcitement that almost drove Cicely out of his mind, as he laid theproposal before his father.

  Richard was scarcely less excited. "You young lads are in luck," hesaid. "I sailed for years and never had more than a chance brush withthe Don; never the chance of bearding him on his own shores!"

  "Come with us, then, father," entreated Humfrey. "Sir Francis would beoverjoyed to see you. You would get the choicest ship to your share."

  "Nay, nay, my boy, tempt me not; I cannot leave your mother to meet allthe coils that may fall in her way! No; I'm too old. I've lost my sealegs. I leave thee to win the fame, son Humfrey!"

  The decision was thus made, and Humfrey and Diccon were to starttogether for London first, and then for Plymouth, the second day aftera great festival for the wedding of the little Alethea, daughter ofGilbert, Lord Talbot--still of very tender age--to the young heir ofArundel. The Talbot family had been precluded from holding festivalfor full fourteen years, or indeed from entertaining any guests, savethe Commissioners sent down to confer from time to time with thecaptive Queen, so that it was no wonder that they were in the highestpossible spirits at their release, and determined to take the firstopportunity of exercising the gorgeous hospitality of the Tudor times.

  Posts went out, riding round all the neighbourhood with invitations.The halls were swept and adorned with the best suit of hangings. Allthe gentlemen, young and old, all the keepers and verdurers, were putin requisition to slaughter all the game, quadruped and biped, thatfell in their way, the village women and children were turned loose onthe blackberries, cranberries, and bilberries, and all the ladies andserving-women were called on to concoct pasties of many stories high,subtilties of wonderful curiosity, sweetmeats and comfits, cakes andmarchpanes worthy of Camacho's wedding, or to deck the halls with greenboughs, and weave garlands of heather and red berries.

  Cis absolutely insisted, so that the heads of the household gave way,on riding out with Richard and Humfrey when they had a buck to markdown in Rivelin Chase. And she set her heart on going out to gathercranberries in the park, flinging herself about with petulantirritation when Dame Susan showed herself unwilling to permit aproceeding which was thought scarcely becoming in any well-born damselof the period. "Ah, child, child! thou wilt have to bear worserestraints than these," she said, "if ever thou comest to thygreatness."

  Cis made no answer, but threw herself into a chair and pouted.

  The next morning she did not present herself at the usual hour; butjust as the good mother was about to go in quest of her to her chamber,a clear voice came singing up the valley--

  "Berries to sell! berries to sell! Berries fresh from moorland fell!"

  And there stood a girl in peasant dress, with short petticoats, stoutshoes soaked in dew, a round face under black brows, and cheeks glowingin morning freshness; and a boy swung the other handle of the basketoverflowing with purple berries.

  It was but a shallow disguise betrayed by the two roguish faces, andthe good mother was so pleased to see Cis smile merrily again, that shedid not scold over the escapade.

  Yet the inconsistent girl hotly refused to go up to the castle and helpto make pastry for her mother's bitter and malicious foe, and SirRichard shook his head and said she was in the right on't, and shouldnot be compelled. So Susan found herself making lame excuses, whichdid not avert a sharp lecture from the Countess on the cockering of herdaughter.