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Unknown to History

C >> Charlotte M Yonge >> Unknown to History




It was a strange wedding in that morning moonlight streaming in at
the east window of that grand old church, and casting the shadows of
the columns and arches on the floor, only aided by one wax light,
which, as Mr. Heatherthwayte took care to protest, was not placed on
the holy table out of superstition, but because he could not see
without it. Indeed the table stood lengthways in the centre aisle,
and would have been bare, even of a white cloth, had not Richard
begged for a Communion for the young pair to speed them on their
perilous way, and Mr. Heatherthwayte--almost under protest--
consented, since a sea voyage and warlike service in a foreign land
lay before them. But, except that he wore no surplice, he had
resigned himself to Master Richard on that most unnatural morning,
and stifled his inmost sighs when he had to pronounce the name Bride,
given, not by himself, but by some Romish priest--when the
bridegroom, with the hand wounded for Queen Mary's sake, gave a ruby
ring, most unmistakably coming from that same perilous quarter,--and
above all when the pair and the father knelt in deep reverence. Yet
their devotion was evidently so earnest and so heartfelt that he knew
not how to blame it, and he could not but bless them with his whole
heart as he walked down with them to the wharf. All were silent,
except that Cicely once paused and said she wanted to speak to
"Father." He came to her side, and she took his arm instead of
Humfrey's.

"Sir," she said; "it has come to me that now my sweet mother is left
alone it would be no small joy to her, and of great service to our
good host's little daughter, if Oil-of-Gladness could take my place
at home for a year or two."

"None will do that, Cis; but there is much that would be well in the
notion, and I will consider of it. She is a maid of good conditions,
and the mother is lonesome."

His consideration resulted in his making the proposal, much
startling, though greatly gratifying. Master Heatherthwayte, who
thanked him, talked of his honour for that discreet and godly woman
Mistress Susan, and said he must ponder and pray upon it, and would
reply when Mr. Talbot returned from his voyage.

At the wharf lay the Mastiff's boat in charge of Gervas and
Gillingham. All three stepped into it together, the most silent
bride and bridegroom perhaps that the Humber had ever seen. Only
each of the three wrung the hand of the good clergyman. At that
moment all the bells in Hull broke forth with a joyous peal, which by
the association made the bride look up with a smile. Her husband
forced one in return; but his father's eyes, which she could not see,
filled with tears. He knew it was in exultation at her mother's
death, and they hurried into the boat lest she should catch the
purport of the shouts that were beginning to arise as the townsfolk
awoke to the knowledge that their enemy was dead.

The fires of Smithfield were in the remembrance of this generation.
The cities of Flanders were writhing under the Spanish yoke; "the
richest spoils of Mexico, the stoutest hearts of Spain," were already
mustering to reduce England to the condition of Antwerp or Haarlem;
and only Elizabeth's life had seemed to lie between them and her who
was bound by her religion to bring all this upon the peaceful land.
No wonder those who knew not the tissue of cruel deceits and
treacheries that had worked the final ruin of the captive, and
believed her guilty of fearful crimes, should have burst forth in a
wild tumult of joy, such as saddened even the Protestant soul of Mr.
Heatherthwayte, as he turned homewards after giving his blessing to
the mournful young girl, whom the boat was bearing over the muddy
waters of the Hull.

They soon had her on board, but the preparations were hardly yet
complete, nor could the vessel make her way down the river until the
evening tide. It was a bright clear day, and a seat on deck was
arranged for the lady, where she sat with Humfrey beside her, holding
her cloak round her, and telling her--strange theme for a bridal day-
-all he thought well to tell her of those last hours, when Mary had
truly shown herself purified by her long patience, and exalted by the
hope that her death had in it somewhat of martyrdom.

His father meantime superintended the work of the crew, being
extremely anxious to lose no time, and to sail before night. Mr.
Heatherthwayte's anxiety brought him on board again, for he wanted to
ask more questions about the Bridgefield doings ere beginning his
ponderings and his prayers respecting his decision for his little
daughter; nor had he taken his final leave when the anchor was at
length weighed, and the ship had passed by the strange old gables,
timbered houses, and open lofts, that bounded the harbour out from
the Hull river into the Humber itself, while both the Talbots
breathed more freely; but as the chill air of evening made itself
felt, they persuaded Cicely to let her husband take her down to her
cabin.

It was at this moment, in the deepening twilight, that the ship was
hailed, and a boat came alongside, and there was a summons, "In the
Queen's name," and a slightly made lean figure in black came up the
side. He was accompanied by a stout man, apparently a constable.
There was a moment's pause, then the new-comer said "Kinsman Talbot--"

"I count no kindred with betrayers, Cuthbert Langston," said Richard,
drawing himself up with folded arms.

"Scorn me not, Richard Talbot," was the reply; "you stood my friend
once when none other did so, and for that cause have I hindered much
hurt to you and yours. But for me you had been in a London jail for
these three weeks past. Nor do I come to do you evil now. Give up
the wench, and your name shall never be brought forward, since the
matter is to be private. Behold a warrant from the Council
empowering me to bring before them the person of Bride Hepburn,
otherwise called Cicely Talbot."

"Man of treacheries and violence," said Mr. Heatherthwayte, standing
forward, an imposing figure in his full black gown and white ruff,
"go back! The lady is not for thy double-dealing, nor is there now
any such person as either Bride Hepburn or Cicely Talbot."

"I cry you mercy," sneered Langston. "I see how it is! I shall have
to bear your reverence likewise away for a treasonable act in
performing the office of matrimony for a person of royal blood
without consent of the Queen. And your reverence knows the penalty."

At that instant there rang from the forecastle a never-to-be-
forgotten howl of triumphant hatred and fury, and with a spring like
that of a tiger, Gillingham bounded upon him with a shout, "Remember
Babington!" and grappled with him, dragging him backwards to the
bulwark. Richard and the constable both tried to seize the fiercely
struggling forms, but in vain. They were over the side in a moment,
and there was a heavy splash into the muddy waters of the Humber,
thick with the downcome of swollen rivers, thrown back by the flowing
tide.

Humfrey came dashing up from below, demanding who was overboard, and
ready to leap to the rescue wherever any should point in the
darkness, but his father withheld him, nor, indeed, was there sound
or eddy to be perceived.

"It is the manifest judgment of God," said Mr. Heatherthwayte, in a
low, awe-stricken voice.

But the constable cried aloud that a murder had been done in
resisting the Queen's warrant.

With a ready gesture the minister made Humfrey understand that he
must keep his wife in the cabin, and Richard at the same time called
Mr. Heatherthwayte and all present to witness that, murder as it
undoubtedly was, it had not been in resisting the Queen's warrant,
but in private revenge of the servant, Harry Gillingham, for his
master Babington, whom he believed to have been betrayed by this
gentleman.

It appeared that the constable knew neither the name of the gentleman
nor whom the warrant mentioned. He had only been summoned in the
Queen's name to come on board the Mastiff to assist in securing the
person of a young gentlewoman, but who she was, or why she was to be
arrested, the man did not know. He saw no lady on deck, and he was
by no means disposed to make any search, and the presence of Master
Heatherthwayte likewise impressed him much with the belief that all
was right with the gentlemen.

Of course it would have been his duty to detain the Mastiff for an
inquiry into the matter, but the poor man was extremely ill at ease
in the vessel and among the retainers of my Lord of Shrewsbury; and
in point of fact, they might all have been concerned in a crime of
much deeper dye without his venturing to interfere. He saw no one to
arrest, the warrant was lost, the murderer was dead, and he was
thankful enough to be returned to his boat with Master Richard
Talbot's assurance that it was probable that no inquiry would be
made, but that if it were, the pilot would be there to bear witness
of his innocence, and that he himself should return in a month at
latest with the Mastiff.

Master Heatherthwayte consoled the constable further by saying he
would return in his boat, and speak for him if there were any inquiry
after the other passenger.

"I must speak my farewells here," he said, "and trust we shall have
no coil to meet you on your return, Master Richard."

"But for her," said Humfrey, "I could not let my father face it
alone. When she is in safety"--

"Tush, lad," said his father, "such plotters as yonder poor wretch
had become are not such choice prizes as to be inquired for. Men are
only too glad to be rid of them when their foul work is done."

"So farewell, good Master Heatherthwayte," added Humfrey, "with
thanks for this day's work. I have read of good and evil geniuses or
angels, be they which they may, haunting us for life, and striving
for the mastery. Methinks my Cis hath found both on the same Humber
which brought her to us."

"Nay, go not forth with Pagan nor Popish follies on thy tongue, young
man," said Heatherthwayte, "but rather pray that the blessing of the
Holy One, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of thy
father, may be with thee and thine in this strange land, and bring
thee safely back in His own time. And surely He will bless the
faithful."

And Richard Talbot said Amen.




CHAPTER XLV. 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' absence was requested for one
of the lieutenants in her Majesty's guard, Master Richard Talbot.

"And wherefore?" demanded the royal lady of Sir Walter Raleigh, the
captain of her guard, who made the request.

"To go to the Hague to look after his brother's widow and estate, so
please your Majesty; more's the pity," said Raleigh.

"His brother's widow?" repeated the Queen.

"Yea, madam. For it may be feared that young Humfrey Talbot--I know
not whether your Majesty ever saw him--but he was my brave brother
Humfrey Gilbert's godson, and sailed with us to the West some sixteen
years back. He was as gallant a sailor as ever trod a deck, and I
never could see why he thought fit to take service with the States.
But he did good work in the time of the Armada, and I saw him one of
the foremost in the attack on Cadiz. Nay, he was one of those
knighted by my Lord of Essex in the market-place. Then he sailed
with my Lord of Cumberland for the Azores, now six months since, and
hath not since been heard of, as his brother tells me, and therefore
doth Talbot request this favour of your Majesty."

"Send the young man to me," returned the Queen.

Diccon, to give him his old name, was not quite so unsophisticated as
when his father had first left him in London. Though a good deal
shocked by what a new arrival from Holland had just told him of the
hopelessness of ever seeing the Ark of Fortune and her captain again,
he was not so overpowered with grief as to prevent him from being
full of excitement and gratification at the honour of an interview
with the Queen, and he arranged his rich scarlet and gold attire so
as to set himself off to the best advantage, that so he might be
pronounced "a proper man."

Queen Elizabeth was now some years over sixty, and her nose and chin
began to meet, but otherwise she was as well preserved as ever, and
quite as alert and dignified. To his increased surprise, she was
alone, and as she was becoming a little deaf, she made him kneel very
near her chair.

"So, Master Talbot," she said, "you are the son of Richard Talbot of
Bridgefield."

"An it so please your Majesty."

"And you request license from us to go to the Hague?"

"An it so please your Majesty," repeated Diccon, wondering what was
coming next; and as she paused for him to continue--"There are grave
rumours and great fears for my brother's ship--he being in the Dutch
service--and I would fain learn the truth and see what may be done
for his wife."

"Who is his wife?" demanded the Queen, fixing her keen glittering
eyes on him, but he replied with readiness.

"She was an orphan brought up by my father and mother."

"Young man, speak plainly. No tampering serves here. She is the
wench who came hither to plead for the Queen of Scots."

"Yea, madam," said Diccon, seeing that direct answers were required.

"Tell me truly," continued the Queen. "On your duty to your Queen,
is she what she called herself?"

"To the best of my belief she is, madam," he answered.

"Look you, sir, Cavendish brought back word that it was all an
ingenious figment which had deceived your father, mother, and the
maid herself--and no wonder, since the Queen of Scots persisted
therein to the last."

"Yea, madam, but my mother still keeps absolute proofs in the
garments and the letter that were found on the child when recovered
from the wreck. I had never known that she was not my sister till
her journey to London; and when next I went to the north my mother
told me the whole truth."

"I pray, then, how suits it with the boasted loyalty of your house
that this brother of yours should have wedded the maid?"

"Madam; it was not prudent, but he had never a thought save for her
throughout his life. Her mother committed her to him, and holding
the matter a deep and dead secret, he thought to do your Majesty no
wrong by the marriage. If he erred, be merciful, madam."

"Pah! foolish youth, to whom should I be merciful since the man is
dead? No doubt he hath left half a score of children to be puffed up
with the wind of their royal extraction."

"Not one, madam. When last I heard they were still childless."

"And now you are on your way to take on you the cheering of your
sister-in-law, the widow," said the Queen, and as Diccon made a
gesture of assent, she stretched out her hand and drew him nearer.
"She is then alone in the world. She is my kinswoman, if so be she
is all she calls herself. Now, Master Talbot, go not open-mouthed
about your work, but tell this lady that if she can prove her kindred
to me, and bring evidence of her birth at Lochleven, I will welcome
her here, treat her as my cousin the Princess of Scotland, and, it
may be, put her on her way to higher preferment, so she prove herself
worthy thereof. You take me, sir?"

Diccon did take in the situation. He had understood how Cavendish,
partly blinded by Langston, partly unwilling to believe in any
competitor who would be nearer the throne than his niece Arabella
Stewart, and partly disconcerted by Langston's disappearance, had
made such a report to the Queen and the French Ambassador, that they
had thought that the whole matter was an imposture, and had been so
ashamed of their acquiescence as to obliterate all record of it. But
the Queen's mind had since recurred to the matter, and as in these
later years of her reign one of her constant desires was to hinder
James from making too sure of the succession, she was evidently
willing to play his sister off against him.

Nay, in the general uncertainty, dreams came over Diccon of possible
royal honours to Queen Bridget; and then what glories would be
reflected on the house of Talbot! His father and mother were too
old, no doubt, to bask in the sunshine of the Court, and Ned--pity
that he was a clergyman, and had done so dull a thing as marry that
little pupil of his mother's, Laetitia, as he had rendered her
Puritan name. But he might be made a bishop, and his mother's
scholar would always become any station. And for Diccon himself--
assuredly the Mastiff race would rejoice in a new coronet!

Seven weeks later, Diccon was back again, and was once more summoned
to the Queen's apartment. He looked crestfallen, and she began,--

"Well, sir? Have you brought the lady?"

"Not so, an't please your Majesty."

"And wherefore? Fears she to come, or has she sent no message nor
letter?"

"She sends her deep and humble thanks, madam, for the honour your
Majesty intended her, but she--"

"How now? Is she too great a fool to accept of it?"

"Yea, madam. She prays your Grace to leave her in her obscurity at
the Hague."

Elizabeth made a sound of utter amazement and incredulity, and then
said, "This is new madness! Come, young man, tell me all! This is
as good and new as ever was play. Let me hear. What like is she?
And what is her house to be preferred to mine?"

Diccon saw his cue, and began--

"Her house, madam, is one of those tall Dutch mansions with high
roof, and many small windows therein, with a stoop or broad flight of
steps below, on the banks of a broad and pleasant canal, shaded with
fine elm-trees. There I found her on the stoop, in the shade, with
two or three children round her; for she is a mother to all the
English orphans there, and they are but too many. They bring them to
her as a matter of course when their parents die, and she keeps them
till their kindred in England claim them. Madam, her queenliness of
port hath gained on her. Had she come, she would not have shamed
your Majesty; and it seems that, none knowing her true birth, she is
yet well-nigh a princess among the many wives of officers and
merchants who dwell at the Hague, and doubly so among the men, to
whom she and her husband have never failed to do a kindness. Well,
madam, I weary you. She greeted me as the tender sister she has ever
been, but she would not brook to hear of fears or compassion for my
brother. She would listen to no word of doubt that he was safe, but
kept the whole household in perfect readiness for him to come. At
last I spake your Majesty's gracious message; and, madam, pardon me,
but all I got was a sound rating, that I should think any hope of
royal splendour or preferment should draw her from waiting for
Humfrey. Ay, she knew he would come! And if not, she would never be
more than his faithful widow. Had he not given up all for her?
Should she fail in patience because his ship tarried awhile? No; he
should find her ready in his home that he had made for her."

"Why, this is as good as the Globe Theatre!" cried the Queen, but
with a tear glittering in her eye.

"Your Majesty would have said so truly," said Diccon; "for as I sat
at evening, striving hard to make her give over these fantastic
notions and consult her true interest, behold she gave a cry--"Tis
his foot!" Yea, and verily there was Humfrey, brown as a berry,
having been so far with his mate as to the very mouth of the River
Plate. He had, indeed, lost his Ark of Fortune, but he has come home
with a carrack that quadruples her burthen, and with a thousand bars
of silver in her hold. And then, madam, the joy, the kisses, the
embraces, and even more--the look of perfect content, and peace, and
trust, were enough to make a bachelor long for a wife."

"Long to be a fool!" broke out the Queen sharply. "Look you, lad:
there may be such couples as this Humfrey and--what call you her?--
here and there."

"My father and mother are such."

"Yea, saucy cockerel as you are; but for one such, there are a
hundred others who fret the yoke, and long to be free! Ay, and this
brother of thine, what hath he got with this wife of his but
banishment and dread of his own land?"

"Even so, madam; but they still count all they either could have had
or hoped for, nought in comparison with their love to one another."

"After ten years! Ha! They are no subjects for this real world of
ours; are they not rather swains in my poor Philip Sidney's Arcadia?
Ho, no; 'twere pity to meddle with them. Leave them to their Dutch
household and their carracks. Let them keep their own secret; I'll
meddle in the matter no more."

And so, though after Elizabeth's death and James's accession, Sir
Humfrey and Lady Talbot gladdened the eyes of the loving and
venerable pair at Bridgefield, the Princess Bride of Scotland still
remained in happy obscurity, "Unknown to History."




THE END.

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