“W. Burghley.
“To the right honourable and my very good Lady, the Countess of Shrewsbury. Haste, haste, haste.”
A nice letter to receive on a serene autumn day! Carefully worded and dignified though it is, it opens up vistas of suspicion and treachery. The Countess was away, and her lord had to bear the first brunt of it alone. Perhaps this was just as well, as it gave him a chance of clearing their honour independently. For, of course, he recognised in it an urgent official document. The reading must have cost him a bad quarter of an hour. There was no time to be lost in again asserting his wife’s integrity. A few seconds of miserable suspense would possibly ensue ere his trust and loyalty conquered all fears, and he sat down to write first to his wife, enclosing the letter from Court, and then to tell Burleigh that some serious misconstruction must have been placed on the fact that he always empowered his lady to interest herself in such persons as Lascelles and his doings, the better to keep her spouse apprised of Mary’s plots: “I willed my wife to deal with him and others to whom the Queen bears familiar countenance, so as the better to learn her intentions.” To this he adds a diplomatic postscript, assuring Burleigh that this letter is penned independently of any collusion with his wife.
The Countess, fenced in by consciousness of innocence, backed by the sense of possession, and seated in the heart of her own pleasant estate, rich now in the burnished glory of autumn, writes en grande dame from Chatsworth on October 22nd:—
“Your letters touching Henry Lassells came to my hands after my husband had answered them. I doubt not you are persuaded of my dutiful service, but lest you should think any lack of goodwill to answer, I thought it meet to advertise you of my whole doings in the matters.
“As soon as I had intelligence that this Lassells had some familiar talk with the Queen of Scotland, and that my Lord thereupon had laid watch to his doings, this Lassells belike suspecting of my knowledge thereof, desired that he might offer unto me some special matter touching that Queen, with great desire that I should in no wise utter it, for, saith he, she hath most earnestly warned me not to tell you of all creatures. I then hoping to hear of some practice, answered him that he might assure himself not only to be harmless, but to be well rewarded also at the Queen Majesty’s hands, and of my Lord, if he would plainly and truly show of her doings and devices, meet to be known. Then he told me with many words that she pretended great goodwill unto him, and of good liking of him, and that she would make him a lord, but, saith he, I will never be false to the Queen’s Majesty, nor to my Lord, my master. Further than this I could not learn of him. Then I warned him to remember his duty and to beware of her, and that she sought to abuse him, and that I knew for certain that she did hate him. He said then that he would take heed, and advertise me of all that he could learn. After this he came to me again, and told me of her familiar talk as before, and of no further matter, saving that he said that he told her how he marvelled that she could love the Duke,[[17]] having so foul a face, and that she answered that she could like him well enough, because he was wise. Then I warned him again more earnestly than I did before, and told him of her hatred towards him. Then he seemed to credit me. Albeit a while after he desired me by his letters to certify him how I knew she hated him, for, saith he, if she so do she is the falsest woman living. Then my Lord and I perceiving his mind so fondly occupied on her and knowing him to be both vain and glorious, and that he was more like to be made an instrument to work harm than to do good, my Lord despatched him out of service, as he hath divers others upon suspicion at sundry times. This came to my knowledge about Candlemas, next after the Northern rebellion, and he was put away about Easter following. I never knew of any dealing between the Queen and the Duke of Norfolk, either by Lassells or anyone else. If I had I trust you think I would have discovered it.”
It is not surprising that the Earl’s wife kept aloof for a while and preferred Chatsworth just now. Sheffield was a regular dungeon: the Scottish Queen was only allowed to take an airing on the leads. No domestic cheerfulness was possible, no social intercourse, and every letter sent or received was a source of anxiety.
Both for the sake of social decency and because of the necessity to impress the always scandalous world with her conjugal devotion, the Countess however returned presently to the fortress and took up her share of the daily burden of wardenship.
Her presence was more than ever necessary now. The Duke of Norfolk’s trial was fixed for a date early in the New Year, and the Earl’s assistance thereat was indispensable, for he was made Lord High Steward of England in the place of the arraigned nobleman. The command at Sheffield was therefore temporarily assigned, not to Huntingdon this time, but to Sir Ralph Sadler. He arrived, the Earl left for London, and Bess Shrewsbury remained to keep a hand upon the situation and play her own cards. She did this incessantly till her husband’s return. Circumstances gave her most excellent opportunities for making a good impression on Sadler. It was her business to walk on those leads of the now vanished castle with the prisoner and to carry her daily such news as it was considered well to communicate. There was very little variety in the days. When the weather was bad Mary kept to her rooms. When it improved she took her airing, but had not much refreshment for her eyes. There was little to do on the leads but stroll to and fro, gazing at Sheffield Lodge on the hill, or at the water and meadows below. And for the ear there was nothing beyond music on the virginals to charm it, no sounds to distract the country silence, except the opening and closing of the castle gates, and the roll of the drum at six o’clock morning and evening, when the watches were set and the password given.
