Loveday's history

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

The next day we met the news of the king's death. (He had been dead two or three days, but they about him concealed the matter as long as they could for the better furtherance of their plans.) In one town we passed through they had already proclaimed Queen Jane, and the mob were rejoicing after their senseless fashion, glad of any event, good or bad, which gave them the chance of eating and drinking.

But I could not but observe many sullen and discontented faces, and in one village we passed through we were hooted with, "Shame on the married priest. Go on with thy leman, false priest, and see what awaits thee!"

I must say my courage failed, and I prayed my husband to turn back, or at least seek some safe shelter till we should know how matters would turn. But Walter believed that his duty called him to go on, and when he began to talk about duty, I knew he had taken the bit between his teeth, and I might as well be silent; so I went forward, but with a heavy heart, and all the more because I had heard from the serving men, that their master was a devoted adherent of Queen Jane. I need not, however, have minded that. The Peckhams in general have a wonderful knack of turning up on the winning side just at the right moment. My old friend, Sir Edward, was an exception to the rule; one always knew where to find him—but in general they were a timeserving race, I must say.

Well, we reached London at last, and went to a decent hostel close by Sir John's town residence. I thought he might have asked us to his house, seeing we had come all that way on his errand, but he did not; and as it turned out, it was just as well. All was in utter confusion at this time, for Queen Mary had been proclaimed in Norwich, and people were flocking to her standard every day. The Popish party raised their heads more and more, and I was fain to keep close within doors, for I could not go out with my husband without being insulted; I did not even go to see my old mistress though my heart yearned toward her, finding myself so near. Walter would fain have finished the business that had brought him hither, but Sir John kept putting him off and putting him off, and he could hardly gain an audience.

So matters dragged along with us till the nineteenth of July, when the Queen Mary was proclaimed in Cheapside by some of the very men who had been most forward in the cause of poor Lady Jane. They did not save their own necks by their baseness, that is one comfort. It was the very day after this proclamation that Sir John sent for my husband. I went with him, understanding from the messenger that he desired to see me also, but this it seems was a mistake. Nevertheless, I was glad I did, as it turned out. When we entered his presence, Sir John was sitting in his great chair, and near him was one whom I knew I had seen before, though I could not tell where, but he seemed to bring my old life at Peckham Hall before me in a moment. Sir John made my husband a slight salutation, and me none at all. His lady was even less civil, for she turned away from me and exchanged a marked look of contempt and disgust with the priest.

"I have sent for you, Master Corbet, to tell you that I have no more need of your services," said Sir John, curtly. "This worthy priest, Father Barnaby, has given me all the information I need as to the matter of the legacy. I will attend to it. Father Simon is of opinion that my respected father was weak in mind when he made his will, and therefore it will not stand in law, but we will see—we will see," he added pompously. "You shall have justice done. But who is this woman you have brought with you?" he added, as though just then aware of my presence. "Your sister?"

"My lawful and beloved wife, Sir John, as you very well know," answered Walter, firmly, "whom I brought up to London at your own written request, as thinking her early recollections might throw some light on the matter in hand."

Sir John did look a little confused, but Father Simon took up the cudgels for him. I knew all about him the moment I heard his name called.

"Your wife. I thought you were a priest. What do you with a wife?"

"The same as did St. Peter," answered Walter. "Take her with me on my journeys."