“My most humble duty remembered, right honourable, my singular good Lord and father; because of the convenience of the bearer hereof, I have thought good to advertise your Lordship of the estate of some here at the Court, as near as I have learned by my daily experience. My Lord Treasurer, even after the old manner, dealeth with matters of the State only, and beareth himself very uprightly. My Lord Leicester is very much with her Majesty, and she shows the same great, good affection that she was wont; of late he has endeavoured to please her more than heretofore. There are two sisters now in the Court that are very far in love with him, as they have been long—my Lady Sheffield and Frances Howard;[[19]] they (of like striving who shall love him better) are at great wars together, and the Queen thinketh not well of them and not the better of him; by this means there are spies over him. My Lord of Sussex goes with the tide, and helps to back others; but his own credit is sober, considering his estate; he is very diligent in his office, and takes great pains. My Lord of Oxford is lately grown into great credit; for the Queen’s Majesty delighteth more in his personage and his dancing and valiantness than any other. I think Sussex doth back him all that he can; if it were not for his fickle head he would pass any of them shortly. My Lady Burghley unwisely has declared herself, as it were, jealous, which is come to the Queen’s ear; whereat she has been not a little offended with her, but now she is reconciled again. At all these love matters my Lord Treasurer winketh, and will not meddle anyway. Hatton is sick still; it is thought he will very hardly recover his disease, for it is doubted it is in his kidneys; the Queen goeth almost every day to see how he doth. Now are there devices (chiefly by Leicester, as I suppose, and not without Burleigh’s knowledge) to make Mr. Edward Dyer as great as ever was Hatton; for now, in this time of Hatton’s sickness, the time is convenient. It is brought thus to pass: Dyer lately was sick of a consumption, in great danger; and, as your Lordship knows, he has been in displeasure these two years, it was made the Queen believe that his sickness came because of the continuance of her displeasure towards him, so that unless she would forgive him he was like not to recover, and hereupon her Majesty has forgiven him and sent unto him a very comfortable message; now he is recovered again, and this is the beginning of the device. These things I learn of such young fellows as myself. Two days since Dr. Wilson told me he heard say that your Lordship, with your charge, was removed to Sheffield Lodge, and asked me whether it was so or not: I answered I heard so also; that you were gone thither of force till the castle could be cleansed. And, further, he wished to know whether your Lordship did so by the consent of the Council, or not: I said I knew not that, but I was certain your Lordship did it on good ground. I earnestly desired him, of all friendship, to tell me whether he had heard anything to the contrary; which he sware he never did, but asked because, he said, once that Lady should have been conveyed from that house. Then I told him what great heed and care you had to her safe-keeping; especially being there that good numbers of men, continually armed, watched her day and night, and both under her windows, over her chamber, and of every side her; so that, unless she could transform herself to a flea or a mouse, it was impossible that she should escape. At that time Mr. Wilson showed me some part of the confession of one (but who he was, or when he did confess it, he would in no wise tell me), that that fellow should say he knew the Queen of Scots hated your Lordship deadly because of your religion, being an earnest Protestant; and all the Talbots else in England, being all Papists, she esteemeth of them very well; and this fellow did believe verily all we Talbots did love her better in our hearts than the Queen’s Majesty: this Mr. Wilson said he showed me because I should see what knavery there is in some men to accuse. He charged me of all love that I should keep this secret, which I promised; and, notwithstanding, considering he would not tell me who this fellow was, I willed a friend of mine, one Mr. Francis Southwell, who is very great with him, to know, amongst other talk, who he had last in examination; and I understood that this was the examination of one at the last session of Parliament, and not since, but I cannot learn yet what he was. Mr. Walsingham is this day come hither to the Court; it is thought he shall be made Secretary. Sir Thomas Smith and he both together shall exercise that office. He hath not yet told any news; he hath had no time yet for being returned home; as soon as I hear any your Lordship shall have them sent. Roulsden hath written to your Lordship as he saith, by this bearer; he trusteth to your Lordship’s satisfaction. I have been very importunate of him for the present payment of his debt to your Lordship. He cannot anyways make shift for money unless he sell land, which he vows to do rather than to purchase your Lordship’s displeasure. I have moved my Lord Treasurer two sundry times as your Lordship commanded me for the mustering within your Lordship’s offices. The first time he willed me to come to him some other time, and he would give me an answer, because then he had to write to Berwick in haste; this he told me before I half told him what I meant. The second time, which was on Saturday last, my Lord Leicester came unto him as I was talking; but to-morrow, God willing, I will not fail to move him thoroughly. For other matters I leave your Lordship to the bearer himself. And so, most humbly desiring your Lordship’s daily blessing, with my wonted prayer for the continuance of your Lordship’s honour, and health long to continue, I end, this 11th of May, 1573.
“Your Lordship’s most humble and obedient son,
“Gilbert Talbot.”
This letter is packed with suggestions of Court intrigue. Hatton—afterwards Sir Christopher Hatton—it will be remembered, was one of the many young courtiers whose polish, culture, and elegant dancing excited Elizabeth’s romantic interest. He rose from the post of Gentleman of the Privy Chamber to the captaincy of the Guard, and, by way of the successive posts of Vice-Chamberlain and Privy Councillor, reached the Chancellorship and received a Garter.
Edward Dyer, Hatton’s rival, matched him to some extent in honours, for he too was subsequently knighted and invested with the Garter. As for the Dr. Wilson named, he afterwards became a Secretary of State, while the Earl of Oxford, who is shown as trying to outdo all other courtiers in favour, was a son-in-law of Lord Burghley. He was an adherent of the fifth Duke of Norfolk, and when Burghley refused to intercede for the Duke’s life, the Earl vowed that he would revenge himself on his father-in-law by destroying the happiness of his daughter. This he achieved satisfactorily, and when she died of a broken heart he finished his work of destruction by dissipating the whole of his fortune. The jealousy of “my Lady Burghley,” named in the above letter, evidently refers to the torture which his wife suffered while he was paying addresses to the Queen.
In the midst of this motley Court group one discerns the figure of Burghley himself, a pillar of discretion, while unable to shield his own daughter from distress and scandal.
We see that the Earl of Leicester was a person to be cultivated so long as his love affairs did not incur the Queen’s anger, and so long, in fact, as the love-making was not on his side. It must have been with a chuckle of satisfaction that the Earl received a letter from the favourite about this time, in which he specially commends the behaviour of the young Talbots and records the Queen’s high approval of them. All this was very soothing to their parents. The political situation was less acute. Many traitors were dead, and the banner of Mary of Scotland lay in the dust. Her chief stronghold had fallen. France was in very bad odour, though the memory of the horror of the Bartholomew Massacre was beginning to fade from English minds. Spain had enough to do with her affairs in the Netherlands. Elizabeth could afford to dance, practise on the virginals, play off one of her Court lovers against another, and invent nicknames for them. Domestic happiness and a merrier aspect of things came also nearer to the Talbots. My Lady absented herself for a while, and the Earl writes to her as of old like a lover, and tells her of his dangers and longings:—
“My dear none,—Of all joys I have under God the greatest is yourself: to think that I possess so faithful, and one that I know loves me so dearly, is all and the greatest comfort that this earth can give. Therefore God give me grace to be thankful to Him for His goodness showed unto me, a vile sinner.
“And where you advise in your letter you willed me to ...[[20]] which I did that I should not be ...[[20]] to this lady nothing of the matter: my stomach was so full, I asked her in quick manner, where she writ any letters to any her friends that I would stand in her title. She affirms in her honour she hath not. But howsoever it is she hath written therein, I may safely answer I make small account thereof.
“I thank you, my sweetheart, that you are so willing to come when I will. Therefore, dear heart, send me word how I might send for you; and till I have your company I shall think long, my only joy: and therefore appoint a day, and in the meantime I shall content me with your will, and long daily for your coming. I your letters study very well; and I like them so well they could not be amended: and I have sent them up to Gilbert. I have written to him how happy he is to have such a mother as you are. Farewell, only joy. This Tuesday evening.