Constance Sherwood: An Autobiography of the Sixteenth Century
entertainment at theCharterhouse, wherein had been sowed the seeds of a bitter harvest,since reaped by his sweet lady and himself. Then pageants had charmsin mine eyes; now, none--but rather the contrary. Howsoever, I wasglad to be near at hand on that day, so as to hear such reports asreached us from time to time of her majesty's behavior to the earl.From all I could find, she seemed very well contented; and Mr.Mumford, with whom I was acquainted, came to Mrs. Fawcett's chamber,hearing I was there, and reported that her highness had given hislordship many thanks for her entertainment, and showed herselfexceeding merry all the time she was at table, asking him manyquestions, and relating anecdotes which she had learnt from Sir FulkeGreville, whom the maids-of-honor were wont to say brought her all thetales she heard; at which Mrs. Fawcett said that gentleman had oncedeclared that he was like Robin Goodfellow; for that when thedairy-maids upset the milk-pans, or made a romping and racket, theylaid it all on Robin, and so, whatever gossip-tales the queen's ladiestold her, they laid it all upon him, if he was ever so innocent of it.
"Sir," I said to Mr. Mumford, "think you her majesty hath said aughtto my lord touching his lady or his lately-born little daughter?"
"Once," he answered, "when she told of the noble trick she hath playedSir John Spencer touching his grandson, whom he would not see becausehis daughter did decamp from his house in a baker's basket for tomarry Sir Henry Compton, and her majesty invited him to be her gossipat the christening of a fair boy to whom she did intend to standgodmother, for that he was the first-born child of a young couple whohad married for love and lived happily; and so the old knight said, ashe had no heir, he should adopt this boy, for he had disinherited hisdaughter. So then, at the font, the queen names him Spencer, and whenshe leaves the church, straightway reveals to Sir John that his godsonis his grandson, and deals so cunningly with him that a reconciliationdoth ensue. Well, when she related this event, my lord said in a lowvoice, 'Oh madame, would it might please your majesty for to placeanother child, now at its mother's breast, a first-born one also, inits father's arms! and as by your gracious dealing your highnesswrought a reconciliation between a father and a daughter, so likewisenow to reunite a parted husband from a wife which hath too longlanguished under your royal displeasure.'"
"What answered her grace?" I asked.
"A few words, the sense of which I could not catch," Mr. Mumfordanswered; "being placed so as to hear my lord's speaking moreconveniently than her replies. He said again, 'The displeasure of aprince is a heavy burden to bear.' And then, methinks, some other talkwas ministered of a lighter sort. But be of good heart. MistressSherwood; I cannot but think our dear lady shall soon be set atliberty."
Mr. Mumford's words were justified in a few days; for, to myunspeakable joy, I heard Lady Arundel had been released by order ofthe queen, and had returned to Arundel Castle. It was her lord himselfwho brought me the good tidings, and said he should travel thither inthree days, when his absence from court should be less noted, as thenher majesty would be at Richmond. He showed me a letter he hadreceived from his lady, the first she had been able to write to himfor a whole year. She did therein express her contentment, greater,she said, than her pen could describe, at the sight of the gray iviedwalls, the noble keep, her own chamber and its familiar furniture, andmostly at the thought of his soon coming; and that little Bess had somuch sense already, that when she heard his name, nothing would serveher but to be carried to the window, "whence, methinks," the sweetlady said, "she doth see me always looking toward the entrance-gate,through which all my joy will speedily come to me. When, for to cheatmyself and her, I cry, 'Hark to my lord's horse crossing the bridge,'she coos, so much as to say she is glad also, and stretcheth her armsout, the pretty fool, as if to welcome her unseen father, who,methinks, when he doth come, will be no stranger to her, sooften doth she kiss the picture which hangeth about her mother'sneck."
But, alas! before the queen went to Richmond, she sent a command thatmy Lord Arundel should not go anywhither out of his house (so Mr.Mumford informed me), but remain there a prisoner; and my LordHunsdon, who had been in former times his father's page, and now washis great enemy, was given commission to examine him about hisreligion, and also touching Dr. Allen and the Queen of Scots. Now wasall the joy of Lady Arundel's release at an end. Now the sweet cooingsof her babe moved her to bitter tears. "In vain," she wrote to methen, "do we now look for him to come! in vain listen for the sound ofhis horse's tread, or watch the gateway which shall not open to admithim! I sigh for to be once more a prisoner, and he, my sweet life, atliberty. Alas! what kind of a destiny does this prove, if one is freeonly when the other is shut up, and the word 'parting' is written oneach page of our lives?"
About a month afterward, Mr. Mumford was sent for by Sir ChristopherHatton, who asked him divers dangerous questions concerning the earl,the countess, and Lord William Howard, and also himself--such as, ifhe was a priest or no; which indeed I did not wonder at, so staid andreverend was his appearance. But he answered he never knew or everheard any harm of these honorable persons, and that he himself was nota priest, nor worthy of so great a dignity. He hath since told me thaton the third day of his examination the queen, the Earl of Leicester,and divers others of the council came into the house for to understandwhat he had confessed. Sir Christopher told them what answers he hadmade; but they, not resting satisfied therewith, caused him, aftermany threats of racking and other tortures, to be sent prisoner to theGate-house, where he was kept for some months so close that none mightspeak or come to him. But by the steadfastness of his answers he atlast so cleared himself, and declared the innocency of the earl, andhis wife and brother, that they were set at liberty.
Soon after her lord's release, I received this brief letter from LadyArundel:
"MINE OWN GOOD CONSTANCE,--I have seen my lord, who came here the dayafter he was set free. He very earnestly desires to put into executionhis reconciliation to the Church now that his troubles are a littleoverpast. I have bethought myself that, since Father Campion hath leftLondon, diligence might be used for to procure him a meeting withFather Edmonds, whom I have heard commended for a very virtuous andreligious priest, much esteemed both in this and other countries.Prithee, ask Mr. Wells if in his thinking this should be possible, andlet my lord know of the means and opportunities thereunto. I shallnever be so much indebted, nor he either, to any one in this world, mydear Constance, as to thee and thy good friends, if this interviewshall be brought to pass, and the desired effect ensue.
"My Bess doth begin to walk alone, and hath learned to make the signof the cross; but I warrant thee I am sometimes frightened that I didteach her to bless herself, until such time as she can understand notto display her piety so openly as she now doeth. For when many lordsand gentlemen were here last week for to consider the course hermajesty's progress should take through Kent and Sussex, and she,sitting on my knee, was noticed by some of them for her pretty ways,the clock did strike twelve; upon which, what doth she do butstraightway makes the sign of the cross before I could catch herlittle hand? Lord Cobham frowned, and my Lord Burleigh shook his head;but the Bishop of Chichester stroked her head, and said, with asmile, _'Honi soit qui mal y pense;'_ for which I pray God to blesshim. Oh, but what fears we do daily live in! I would sometimes we werebeyond seas. But if my lord is once reconciled, methinks I can endureall that may befal us. Thy true and loving friend, "ANN, ARUNDEL AND SURREY."
I straightway repaired to Mr. Wells, and found him to be privy toFather Edmonds's abode. At my request, he acquainted Lord Arundel withthis secret, who speedily availed himself thereof, and after a fewvisits to this good man's garret, wherein he was concealed, was by himreconciled, as I soon learnt by a letter from his lady. She wrote insuch perfect contentment and joy thereunto, that nothing could exceedit. She said her dear lord had received so much comfort in his soul ashe had never felt before in all his life, and such directions fromFather Edmonds for the amending and ordering of it as did greatly helpand further him therein. Ever after that time, f
rom mine own hearingand observation, his lady's letters, and the report of such as hauntedhim, I learnt that he lived in such a manner that he seemed to bechanged into another man, having great care and vigilance over all hisactions, and addicting himself much to piety and devotion. He procuredto have a priest ever with him in his own house, by whom he mightfrequently receive the holy sacrament, and daily have the comfort tobe present at the holy sacrifice, whereto, with great humility andreverence, he himself in person many times would serve. His visits tohis wife were, during the next years, as frequent as he could makethem and as his duties at the court and the queen's emergencies wouldallow of; who, albeit she looked not on him with favor as heretofore,did nevertheless exact