“My dear heart,
“I have sent your letters again and thank you for them; they require no answer; but when you write remember to thank him for them. If you cannot get my timber carried I must be without it though I greatly want it; but if it would please you to command Hebert or any other, to move your tenants to bring it, I ken they will not deny to do it. I pray you let me know if I shall have the ton of iron. If you cannot spare it I must make shift to get it elsewhere, for I may not now want it. You promised to send me money afore this time to buy oxen, but I see, out of sight out of mind with you.
“My son Gilbert has been very ill in his bed ever since he came from Sheffield: I think it is his old disease; he is now, I thank God, somewhat better and she very well. I will send you the bill of my wood stuff: I pray you let it be sent to Joseph, that he may be sure to receive all. I thank you for taking order for the carriage of it in Hardwick; if you would command, your waggoner might bring it thither: I think it would be safest carried. Here is neither malt nor hops. The malt come last is so very ill and stinking, as Hawkes thinks none of my workmen will drink it. Show this letter to my friend and then return it. I think you will take no discharge at Zouch’s hands nor the rest. You may work still in despite of them; the law is on your side.[[48]] It cannot be but that you shall have the Queen’s consent to remove hither; therefore if you would have things in readiness for your provision, you might the sooner come. Come either before Midsummer or not this year; for any provision you have yet you might have come as well as at Easter as at this day. Here is yet no manner of provision more than a little drink, which makes me to think you mind not to come. God send my jewel health.
“Your faithful wife
“E. Shrewsbury.”
“Saturday morn.
“I have sent you lettuce for that you love them; and every second day some is sent to your charge and you. I have nothing else to send. Let me hear how you, your charge and love do, and commend me I pray you. It were well you sent four or five pieces of the great hangings that they might be put up; and some carpets. I wish you would have things in that readiness that you might come either three or four days after you hear from Court. Write to Baldwin to call on my Lord Treasurer for answer of your letters.”
The expression in the postscript “your charge and love” has been variously interpreted by historians. It is utterly inconceivable that, as suggested, Lady Shrewsbury should have indicated Mary Queen of Scots by the last word. Had she wished to bring an accusation of this kind against her husband she would not immediately add her desire that he should join her as soon as possible. It is not unlikely that this perplexing sentence should run, “Let me hear how you, your charge, and (our) love do,” the “love” probably signifying a child or grandchild then with the Earl. Similarly the words “God send my jewel health” may apply to the same child, for in after years she uses this term of endearment almost exclusively in speaking of her precious grandchild, Arabella Stuart. Her peremptory request for “great hangings and carpets” is rather interesting, because a previous family letter, not yet included, gives a picture of the Earl’s parsimony in these details. This occurs as early as two years before the date of the above letters; and two long epistles from Gilbert to his stepmother show, first, how the long strain of his duties was telling upon the Earl, and, secondly, the unfavourable contrast produced on the minds of their children by the manner in which they were treated respectively by father and mother.
Gilbert, at Sheffield in 1575, describes the atmosphere of the house as utterly uncongenial. He is longing to be away and to have his own home. Lady Shrewsbury was away, probably at Chatsworth.[[49]]
“My L. is continually pestered with his wonted business, and is very often in exceeding choler of slight occasion; a great grief to them that loves him to see him hurt himself so much. He now speaketh nothing of my going to house, and I fear would be contented with silence to pass it over; but I have great hope in your La. at your coming, and in all my life I never longed for anything so much as to be from hence; truly, Madame, I rather wish myself a ploughman than here to continue.”