A Queen of Nine Days

by Unknown

I did not like the thought of leaving my brothers, or my father, or, as I have said, my freedom and the skylarks, turf, sky, clouds, seashore and mystery of wild sea-waves, with the unknown lands beyond, but never thought of opposing my father's will, and, easygoing though he was, dared not question it; however, I went down to the parsonage to speak to Master Montgomery, our curate, of the matter, and, after listening to all I had to say, and cheering me with descriptions of wondrous sights to be seen in London, he uttered wise words, which stilled my trouble mightily.

'Child,' he said, laying his hand gently on my head, 'listen to me. This call which has come to you is not of your own seeking, therefore it must be from Him Who alone was found worthy to hold the Book of Life—the lives of His people—in His hands. He Who called Rebekah from her water-pot and David from his sheep, Elisha from his ploughing and the praying women of Jerusalem to follow Him to the Cross, is surely calling you to do some special work. It may be lowly in its nature, or it may be great, but whatever it be, it is surely work that you and no one else can do. Like the little maid who was carried away into captivity and did great things for her master Naaman, the Syrian, so, it may be, you, too, may carry help and healing to some afflicted one amongst those whom the world calls mighty. And remember,' he added very earnestly, 'remember that you can do nothing in your own strength, but that with the help of the Holy Spirit, which is given to those who ask for it, all things will be possible.'

I went away, feeling very solemn and almost more frightened than encouraged, and it was a relief to my over-charged heart when, as I was going home with great soberness, I encountered Hal, bareback on his black pony, tearing along like wildfire, and calling to me to follow, as there was a ship passing in the Channel, and so I ran after him down to the beach; and what with one thing and another, I did not give Master Montgomery's words their full consideration until the time came when, being far away from him, I found my thoughts recurring to them.

Before I set off to London City there was great to-do amongst the women servants in making me sufficient garments for a lady's wardrobe, and it was a wonderful sight to see the things they got together and the way they wished to dress me. I did not like it very much, for I did not think I should ever be able to skip and play and ride bareback attired in that fashion, but my father said I was a child and knew nothing about it, and they were women and ought to know what they were doing; so we left it all to them, and I put off the thought of wearing their handiwork as long as possible.

The day before I went my father informed me about those to whom I was going. It seemed the Duke of Northumberland, knowing my father, Sir Henry Brown, with whom he had been in battles in their younger days, had sent for me to come and be one of the gentlewomen of his daughter-in-law, the young Lady Jane Grey, newly married to his fourth son, Lord Guildford Dudley, in London City. My father said that it was a great distinction for me to be selected out of scores of other country maidens for the work, and that if ever I had speech with the noble duke I was to thank him heartily for his favour towards us—this I promised readily, not knowing what manner of man that was whose doings were afterwards an enormous factor in working dire woe to those I loved. And then my father went on to say that business of importance would prevent his going with me on this my entrance into the big world—oh, father! I saw through that, for was it not from you I inherited the nature which loved home and freedom better than the life among great people of exalted rank?—but he said he would send me with old and trusty servants, who would take me safely in a horse-litter from our town of Brighthelmstone[[1]] on the south coast, all the long way to Sion House, in Isleworth, near London City, where my Lady Grey was residing at that time.

[[1]] Now called Brighton.—ED.

And the next day, after a troubled leave-taking from all I loved so dearly, I suffered him to bestow on me his blessing, which he did with many words of touching kindness, and put me in the litter.

I must confess that I did not perceive very much of the road we went over during the first part of my journey, owing to a weakness which came on in my eyes and a sickness and dejection of spirit such as I had never previously known, and my good maid Betsy proved to be very annoying for talking over much, which was indeed her wont when excited, and making doleful laments about the dangers of the way and the roughness of the roads that, without doubt, somewhat impeded our progress.

But afterwards, after a long while, I felt better and could think less miserably of my father's tender blessing and of the sudden breakdown and loud crying of poor Jack and the afflicting disappearance of Hal, who I knew had hidden himself in order that he might get over the parting in secret, and the crying of the woman servants we left behind, and solemn faces of the men and the waving of Master Montgomery's old hat as we passed the parsonage, so that by the time we neared a neighbouring castle I could even look admiringly upon it. We stayed that night at Horsham, in a queer little inn kept by a monstrously fat innkeeper and his exceedingly thin wife, who at another time would have amused me greatly by her fussiness and servility.

And the next day we proceeded on our way, passing many strange and curious places, but meeting with no brigands and no mishap at all until it chanced that, on the King's highway, we came upon a group of unruly, wild-looking men and boys, who were dragging a poor old woman, with great violence, towards a large pond.