A Pearl of the Realm: a story of Nonsuch Palace in the reign of Charles I

Preface

. I HAVE endeavoured in the following story to por tray some of the domestic grievances and oppressions which led to the Civil Wars in England, and the motives actuating the King's opponents throughout the contest. Whatever its literary shortcomings, I think I may venture to claim for my tale historical and topo graphical accuracy, having done my best to subordi nate fiction to facts, so far as I have been able to ascertain the truth. For the history, I have followed Mr. Gardiner, and during the years 1647 to 1649, upon which period, unfortunately for me, Mr. Gardiner's third volume of the " Great Civil War " has not yet appeared, the historical details are drawn chiefly from Maseres' Tracts of the Civil Wars, the Orrery State Papers, and the recently published Clarke Papers. I have taken the liberty of substituting Colonel Stidolph's name for that of Colonel Rich, as Colonel of the Parliament Horse during the Surrey rising in 1648, and I have altered the anecdote concerning Lady Carlisle and VI

PREFACE.

. the chocolate from 1637 to '4r- F°r character* and adventures of the queen, I have chiefly consulted Miss Strickland's " Lives of the Queens " and the " Lettres Inedites de Henriette Marie publiees par le Comte de Baillon." The particulars of her Majesty's residence in York, the state of the city, and her bounty to the prisoners, are drawn from " Eboracum, or the History and Antiquities of the City of York," published in 1778. - . ./ For the topography of Nonsuch and Ewen r "have closely studied Manning and Bray's History of Sur< ■ rey, and a MS. Survey of Ewell in 1577 in the possession of my own family. Comparing the description in the Survey of Non-' such House taken in 1650 (Manning and Bray) with the grounds of the present park, it is easy to discover the exact position of the house, which must have stood at the angle of the avenue now leading to the London road.

The terrace yet exists that raised the Inner Court " eight steps " above the outer, and in the cherry orchard beneath " an open cesspool and innumerable stones and tiles" remained, within the memory of living inhabitants of the neighbourhood, to show the actual site of the palace ; while a large hollow in the cornfield above probably marks the position of the great " Pelican Fountain " situated to the west of the west turret. The continuation of the avenue to Cheam has evidently been made since the palace was pulled down. It has happened very strangely that all the county families residing in the neighbourhood of Ewell in

PREFACE.

. VII the seventeenth century are now extinct, or no longer owners of the old estates. I have therefore been able to give the actual names and homes of Surrey land owners in 1640, the only fictitious local names in my tale being Brian Gardiner and Sir David Webster. My heroine is also fictitious, as Sir William Gardiner, dying in 1633, left an only son; but the facts of her wardship by the Crown are drawn from similar cases given in the Fourth Report of the Royal Commission on Historical Manuscripts, pages 46 and 50. Accounts of the Surrey rising under the Duke of Buckingham in the second Civil War are to be found in Rushworth, Whitelock, and the memoirs of Sir Thomas Herbert. The discovery on the Banstead Downs, in the process of digging the railway cutting, of remains of men and armour indubitably of the time of the Civil War, proves the exact position of the first skirmish during the singular flight of the Cava liers from Reigate, — singular, because, fully a thousand strong, they were pursued only by two troops of horse; while the politics of the people of Ewell are sufficiently evinced by the fact that they must have barred the duke's forces out of their town, since the principal fight, according to Sir Thomas Herbert, took place in a " pass between Ewell and Nonsuch park," which pass a reference to our Elizabethan survey shows to have been a grass lane leading from the church to the South Fields.

It is curious that the name of the vicar of Ewell, appointed by the Assem bly of Divines in 1643, is missing from the parish register, although he held the living for thirty-three

PREFACE.

. years, the next appointment having been made ist 1676. I do not know whether my story will have any interest for those unacquainted with Ewell and its neighbourhood. To me, it has been a labour of love to endeavour, however imperfectly, to re-create the past, to catch something of the thoughts and motives which actuated the men and women who lived in this old town before us, and to picture the graceful Non such turrets, rising in all their pride and beauty, as they stood above the market-town of Ewell three hundred years ago. CONTENTS. Chapter Page I. Margerie to the Rescue i II. The King's Prerogative 14 III. The Devil his Picture 30 IV. 'Twixt Love and Conscience 45 V. At the Queen's Court 62 VI. The Race to Whitehall 78 VII. Baffled 99 VIII. My Lady Carlisle 108 IX. A Blow in the Dark 116 X. In Desperate Strait 139 XI.

The Haunted Gallery 151 XII. "When the Stormy Winds do Blow" . . 167 XIII. Under Fire 179 XIV. In the Dungeon at York 188 XV. The Mouse and the Lion 206 XVI. For King or Parliament? 225 XVII. Caged in Nonsuch 241 XVIII. Stronger than Hate 260 XIX. Queen Bess her Elm X CONTENTS. Chapter *ASB XX. A Royal Fugitive 279 XXI. In the Hands of the Enemy 296 XXII. A Brave Maid 312 XXIII. Guardian and Ward 325 XXIV. Love in a Tree 338 XXV. God and the Right 351 XXVI. In the Face of Death 357 XXVII. How the Town was Saved

Chapter I. Margerie To The Rescue

"SHE'S an arrant scold, Sir Nicholas, Hester Carford be, an arrant scold, I say. Many's the time my old woman have smarted from her tongue, and this very afternoon, not an hour agone, did she fetch Cicely Gosling a clout on the head as your worship might have heard from the market-house to the church, and all 'cause the poor wench was for stepping afore her into James' his shop, as if Gos ling's daughter were n't better nor a stranger shrew as nobody knows the husband on, nor whether she was wed at all. There, speak up, wench, and tell his worship how Hester used ye." And with a kindly, if patronising shove from his left hand, the constable pushed forward the weeping maiden, and glanced expectantly from the magistrate to the prisoner, on whose shoulder the fingers of his right hand were firmly gripped.

But Cicely could not speak; her pretty blue eyes were drowned in tears, and the sobs which heaved her bosom, under its cherry kerchief, appealed more strongly than words to the heart of the worthy magistrate. In the year of grace 1640, local justice was wont to be summarily and sharply administered, and Sir Nicholas Sanders ruled as very pope over the Surrey market-town of Ewell. " Have you aught to say for yourself, woman?" he demanded sternly, knitting his brows and regarding the culprit with evident disfavour, not, perhaps, diminished by the fact that to meet her gaze at all he had to look up instead of down. Sir Nicholas was a short man, and tacitly resented the height of the prisoner, who stood before him little less than six feet in her stockings. "'Tis waste of breath," said Hester, in a deep, harsh voice.

" I did but read a lesson in civility to a saucy wench that shows no reverence to her betters, and twenty years since, may be your worship would have hearkened to me as soon as her now" — and she made a gesture of disdain. " 'T is not in man to turn against gay ribbons, peony cheeks, and blue eyes that wot well how to weep. God knows I look for scant justice from your honour." Drawn up to her full height, her grey eyes seemed to blaze as she stood in proud composure before the magistrate, a curious figure in a man's steeple crowned hat and high leather boots; a man's doublet, too, upon her broad shoulders, and nothing but a short, scanty petticoat of dark woollen stuff marking the sex to which Providence had assigned her. A distinct moustache darkened her upper lip, and on a face which had once been handsome, time and circumstances had combined to stamp lines of care and hardness, effacing the comeliness from all but the splendid eyes and straight, level brows.

" A plague upon her for an impudent scold ! " exclaimed Sir Nicholas, his naturally ruddy face turning purple with anger, for Hester's sarcasm had struck home. "Away with her to the cucking-stool. Cold water may cool her hot blood, and see you duck her soundly, see to it, Hodges." " I '11 warrant your worship," returned the constable, with a significant grin on his broad features. " She shall have enough of water to put a curb on her tongue for many a long day. Come, my mis tress, will it please you to use your own legs, or shall Nat here and me lend you of ours? " The prisoner deigned no reply, but she suffered the constables to lead her unresistingly from the magistrate's presence, and heaved a sigh, as if of relief, on finding herself again in the open air. It was a warm sunny afternoon in May.

The garden of Sir Nicholas's residence, Battailes Manor, was bright with flowers, and before the house waited a gayly painted, cushioned coach drawn by four handsome bays. In the open doorway of the Manor a young girl was standing, richly dressed in pale blue silk, her fair curls clustering beneath a becoming French hood of white and silver, while she was engaged in casing her small hands in a dainty pair of white gloves embroidered with silver thread. Raising her head, she surveyed with some curiosity the approaching group, the tall, dark woman be tween the two constables, and Cicely behind, sup ported on either side by her mother and a young gardener who had joined the party, and under whose eager sympathy the girl's tears had broken out afresh. " What's all this coil?" demanded the young lady, quitting the doorway and advancing before the coach.

" Art weeping, Cicely, what ails thee, child? " "She've been hardly used by Hester Carford, poor wench," replied the ever-ready Hodges, " and we be a-taking of her to the cucking-stool by Sir Nicholas his order, so please you, Mistress Isabel." "The cucking-stool," and the girl's eyes bright ened, " would I could with you and see the sport. Alas, no," and she consulted a minute watch hanging from a diamond brooch in her dress. "I should make my father wait, and 't is a penance for which he has no mind. Good luck to you, Hodges, and see you punish the shrew well for making pretty Cicely cry." The men bared their heads to the young lady, and Cicely and her mother curtsied low ; only Hester stood scornfully erect, scowling malignantly at the fair mocking face, ere her captors led her on towards the Gatehouse.

The Manor House of Battailes stood upon a slight eminence from which grassy slopes descended to a small lake, the haunt of moor-fowl and king-fisher, while across its placid surface glided a pair of swans, their snowy plumage gleaming whitely in the after noon sunshine. Beyond this lake ran the road to Kingston, not then a highway, but yet passable for coaches. Water was abundant in the little market town which had figured in Doomsday Book as Etwelle (at the well). A clear, bright stream rose almost in the High Street itself, and flowed on beside the road until, fed by the outrush from the Manor lake, it deepened into a large, shallow pond. Here, below the bank on the deepest side, a hole had been dug in order to give free play to the singular instru ment of punishment deemed, in the seventeenth cen tury, a necessary adjunct to every town in England, — the cucking-stool for scolds.

It consisted of a strong post fixed upright in the water, with a transverse beam turning on a swivel. At the end of this beam was a chair, strapped into which the culprit could be lowered under water, and raised again like the end of a see-saw, the operation being repeated until she was considered to have sufficiently expiated her fault. The news of Hester's assault on Cicely had spread swiftly through the town, and a crowd had collected outside the Manor gates to await the appearance of the constables and their prisoner. The masters from their shops, the good wives from the cottages, the labourers at work upon the road, the 'prentice lads, mingled with idlers of both sexes, had hastened to the spot, hoping that worthy Sir Nicholas would take the popular side, and treat them to the sight for which they were all agog.

A sign from Hodges was sufficient to acquaint them with the magistrate's decision, and with boisterous shouts they rushed tumul tuously along the road towards the pond. Hester Carford was no favourite in Ewell, where she had first made her appearance some six years previously, to earn her livelihood by working in the fields or at her spinning-wheel. Holding herself aloof from every one, she had let fall no word concerning her past history, and scarcely opened her lips but to sneer and wound. People shrank from the keen eyes which seemed to read into their very souls, and women hated and men dreaded the sharp shrewish tongue. With firm step and head held proudly erect, Hester passed onwards through their midst. She offered no resistance, for she knew the constables would have welcomed a pretext for inflicting indignities upon her; and when the water-side was reached she took her seat without hesitation in the chair, assisted in secur ing the leather strap about her waist, and handed her hat with the utmost composure to one of the by standers.

Icily indifferent, it seemed as if she heard not the jeers and scoffs of which she was the object, and when a rotten egg, flung with unerring aim, struck her on the mouth, only a swift flash from her eyes betrayed that she had seen and noted the per petrator of the outrage. The crowd was disappointed ; the cries and struggles of the victim doomed to the cucking-stool, were part of the sport on which it confidently reckoned ; but Hester Carford sat as if on her own hearthstone, tranquilly leaning back in the chair with her hands folded in her lap. "You are ready, my mistress?" asked Hodges, maliciously, hoping to elicit an appeal for mercy in reply. " Ay," said Hester, briefly, drawing a long breath, and pressing her lips together. "Ay," he repeated mockingly, "we'll have some'ut more than ay from ye ere many minutes be over, or I am much mistook.

Lower away, boys." The beam swung round, and with a mighty splash chair and occupant disappeared beneath the water. Hodges did not unduly hurry himself in giving the signal to raise it ; but when the beam had been seized and depressed by half-a-dozen powerful arms, Hester reappeared, of course streaming with water, but look ing otherwise much as she went down. She tossed back the dark hair which had fallen over her face, and drew long, gasping breaths; but she neither screamed nor prayed for mercy. " How like you the physic, mistress ? " asked Hodges, mockingly. "Perchance 'twill remember her to be less free with her hand on our maidens," said Cicely's mother, who, in virtue of her position as plaintiff, with her daughter occupied a foremost place. " And her tongue," said another. " 'T is pity her husband had not lived to see this day."

" Her husband ! " cried a woman. " Why, she harried the poor soul to death years since with her tongue." " If ever man was verily fool enough to wed with her," remarked the young gardener, cynically. " She do look ugly, the old witch," murmured pretty Cicely, having daintily dried her eyes that she might witness unhindered her enemy's discomfiture. " Hold my hand, Joe," she whispered to the gardener, who, to do him justice, was already squeezing the girl's fingers tightly behind Mrs. Gosling's back. " There she goes again, and it frights me to see it. I feel like to scream myself." " Why don't she scream then ? " said Joe. " She can give tongue fast enough t'other times. 'Tis sheer conceit and stubbornness." " We '11 make her speak," said Hodges, as Hester came up again, gasping painfully for breath, but silent as before.

" No cure like cold water for a hot tongue. Let her down, lads." Again and again the ducking was repeated with shorter intervals between, Hodges, carried away by the indignation of the crowd, and his own irritation at Hester's silence, prolonging the punishment to unusual and undue limits. The woman's eyes wore a wild, hunted expression as they glared upon her tor mentors, her face was deadly pale, and the water streamed from her nose and mouth ; but not a word of submission or entreaty would she utter, even to save her life. "Beg Cicely's pardon, and I'll let you off," said Hodges. " If not, down you go again." " My curse upon her ! " was all the answer Hester vouchsafed, fixing her fierce gaze upon the girl, who shrank back in affright; and down again the victim would assuredly have gone, when, through the crowd, at a canter, scattering the people to right and left, came a white pony, ridden by a little girl wearing a black dress and a plumed black beaver hat, from which a curly mass of bright gold hair fell on her shoulders.

Drawing rein upon the bank, the new comer glanced from the constable, breathless and panting after his exertions, to the more than half drowned woman, and demanded in a tone of assured authority what he was doing. Hodges removed his hat. "A-ducking Hester Carford by Sir Nicholas his commands, Mistress Margerie," he answered somewhat sheepishly, for he could not fail to read the indignation so plainly written on the childish features. " Pray did Sir Nicholas lay his commands on you to drown her? I will acquaint him sure how aptly you fulfil them, Samuel Hodges. What, can you do no other than stand gaping on me like a newly-taken fish, Nat Brook?" and she turned to the second constable: "Bring the stool to the bank." She was instantly obeyed, the beam swung round, and, more dead than alive, Hester was released from her ignominious position.

She tried to rise, but staggered, and, nearly falling into the water, was forced to resume her seat. " Sure, she wants "some more on 't," cried one woman, and a jeering laugh rang through the crowd, though subdued, apparently, out of compliment to the rider of the white pony. The child heard it, however; the colour flew to her cheeks, and there was an indignant sparkle in the bright blue eyes she turned upon the throng. " Shame on you ! " she cried, in her clear childish treble. " Shame on you for cowards and shrews that have no pity on a woman you have brought to death's door with your bungling. I am yet to seek what terrible crime she has committed to deserve so shrewd a punishment." " She fetched Cicely Gosling a clout on the head as you might have heard from the market-house to the church," mumbled Hodges, not yet recovered from his snubbing and the contemptuous looks the little lady was freely dealing round her.

" I have no manner of doubt Cicely richly deserved it; she was ever a pert wench. And so you deem a box o' the ear merits no less a penalty than drown ing, Master Constable? If you had the dispensing of justice in Ewell methinks few would 'scape the water." And turning her back upon the discomfited Hodges, Mistress Margerie gazed with kindly interest on the woman in the chair. " How white she looks, poor soul; 'tis aqua vita she needs. Giles," and she beckoned to one of the two grooms in mourning livery who were waiting a little in the rear, " hast ever a flask about thee?" The man produced a small bottle, handing it with a bow to his young mistress, and without waiting for assistance, Margerie jumped from her pony, and, approaching Hester, offered her the stimulant with the graceful courtesy of one accustomed from babyhood to dispense favours.

The woman took it in half-dazed fashion, swallowed a deep draught of the spirits, and lifting her hand, pushed back the dripping hair from her temples. "Can you rise now?" asked Margerie, kindly. " Lean on me. I am very strong; and Giles and I will take you home." " Mistress Margerie ! " came in horrified tones from a pillion behind the other groom, who had by this time approached his mistress, conducting a serving woman wearing the anxious air of a hen clacking after a straying brood. " Fie, Mistress Margerie, fie ! You in your new dress for company, and she dripping like a water-rat What would my lady say?" " My lady would blush, I dare swear, that a woman should be so scurvily used in Ewell," returned the child, undauntedly standing her ground. But Hester, who, until this moment, had sat as if unconscious of what was passing round her, suddenly fixed her eyes upon her little champion, and rose abruptly to her feet.

" 'T is Mistress Gardiner of the Court," she mut tered under her breath. " God forgive me for accepting aught from her ! " And passing the child without a sign of greeting or reverence, she stalked through the crowd in the direction of her home. " Insolent jade ! " exclaimed Hodges, not without a note of triumph in his tone, "that's all the thanks she gives you. As well show kindness to a tiger, Mistress Margerie." " Is drowning, then, an unfailing recipe for good manners, Master Constable? I would some one would try it on you, as you cannot vouchsafe me a hand to mount my pony. Ah ! here is Giles. Quiet, my Tay, quiet," and laying a caressing hand on the silky, arched neck of her favourite, Margerie sprang into the saddle, and gathering up the reins, turned to ride, followed by her attendants, through the rapidly dispersing crowd at a more sober pace than she had come.

She then, for the first time, became aware of the presence of two gentlemen, who had arrived shortly after herself upon the scene, of which they had been interested and somewhat amused spectators. Both were mounted, and attended by a couple of grooms in crimson livery. The elder, a man past middle age, wore a rich suit of brown velvet, trimmed with old point lace; the younger, presumably his son from the likeness between them, was dressed in crimson satin laced with gold, a gold band about his plumed hat, while the short cloak hanging from his left shoulder was lined with golden plush. " So, Margerie, child," said the elder man with a smile, when they had greeted the little girl, " you got scant thanks for your deed of charity. Who was that most discourteous woman?" " Hester Carford is her name, sir, and she is a widow, and friendless.

Sure, 'twas small wonder she should not stay to distinguish friends from foes after the usage she had gotten from that knavish constable. I would I could have the fellow flogged ! " and Margerie clenched her small hand, while her eyes sparkled with as much wrath as she could conjure into her winsome face. " Make an essay with your riding-rod," laughed the younger man; " I engage to hold the rogue for you; but, in earnest, 'twas most despitefully done, and I will myself acquaint Sir Nicholas with the fashion in which this Hodges abuses his authority." " Shall I find my lady if I ride on to the Court, Margerie?" asked the first speaker. "We are to sup with your uncle, Sir Brian, at Nonsuch, but I am in no haste, and wish first to present my service to your mother." " I thank you, sir; she will be so glad to see you," said Margerie, eagerly.

" She bade me, if I saw you at Nonsuch, to beg of you to visit her at your leisure. You shall find her in the garden. Since my father's death she hath never stirred abroad except for church." " Then Sigismond shall bring you on your way to Nonsuch. We called but now at the Manor and found the ladies had set forth, so he is on thorns until he join them. I thank God my courting days are over," and the elder man laughed, a frank hearty laugh, as he marked the colour deepen in his son's handsome face. With a parting salute to Margerie, he turned away, leaving the young man to ride on beside the child towards the market-house.

Chapter II. The King's Prerogative

EwELL COURT, the residence of the Lord of the Manor, stood about half a mile from the town, on rising ground which overlooked the thatched and tiled houses, the square tower of the church, and afforded glimpses, through the trees eastwards, of the magnificent cupola turrets crowning the stately palace of Nonsuch. To the south the view was bounded by the green Banstead Downs, the village on the summit then giving its name to the range, for Epsom existed only as an insignificant village, a rough shed having been erected for the accommodation of the few visi tors who came to drink the waters of its recently discovered well. The court was a substantial building of freestone, the ground about it well laid out in orchard, planta tion, and kitchen garden, while to the eastwards, where it sloped towards the river, a flower garden, carefully tended and watered, revealed the thought and taste of a lady.

Its mistress was seated now in the little summer house beside the stream, the embroidery frame on which she had been working laid aside, her thin white fingers clasping each other in her lap, and her gaze fixed wistfully upon the distant hills. Worn and sorrowful, and characterised at this moment by an ex pression of painful anxiety, there was yet something strangely attractive in the sweet pale face, though the blue eyes were dull and sunken, and streaks of grey mingled with the bright brown hair. The story of Lady Inyce Gardiner was that of many women of her time : an enforced and loveless marriage with a harsh, domineering man of her father's choosing; a married life of slavery and ill treatment, enhanced by the consciousness that morally and intellectually she was the superior of her tyrant; and then after several years the birth of a daughter, which relieved her from the odium of having failed to provide an heir for the estates, al though Sir William Gardiner considered it a glaring instance of his wife's perversity that she had not borne him a son.

The child's life was precious, for she would serve at least to keep the estates from pass ing to the brother whom he cordially hated ; so Lady Inyce was left undisturbed at Ewell Court to the congenial task of watching over her little daughter, merely subject to flying visits of inspection from Sir William to assure himself that his child lived and throve. Her slavery was ended now, yet the trouble in the lady's face lay deeper than the smile with which she rose to greet an approaching visitor ushered down the garden path by her old serving-man Philips. " Welcome, my friend," she said, extending her hand with the quiet grace which distinguished all her movements. " I am pleased, indeed, to see you." Bareheaded, the new-comer bent to kiss it. Es quire of the Body to two kings, James I. and his young successor, William Stidolph had not left his court manners at Whitehall, when he quitted it to retire to Hedley Place, his lonely country house amongst the downs.

" I hope you are well, my lady," he said, glancing keenly at her face. " Well in body, sir. I thank God my health seldom fails. How doth your lady? She is not with you to-day?" " No, she is too great a lover of home to be over fond of festivities, and these heavy rains have played such havoc with the road over the downs that I doubted our horses could drag the coach along it." " And Sigismond? — I need not ask for him. The boy came hither to tell me of his betrothal, and me thought I had never seen mortal look so happy. You are pleased with the business, I trust? " Lady Inyce had entered the summer-house by this time, and motioned her visitor to occupy a chair at her side. "Mary and I are pleased that the boy is pleased, but in your ear, Lady Inyce, we would it had been the other daughter.

Not that I have fault to find with — she hath been ever fair spoken with me, — and if she be a bit flirtish, girls are but girls ; still, there's no denying, though Urith be not so handsome, she hath twice her sister's sense. Young Heron is a lucky man to have won her." " And the marriage is to be shortly, I hear. When do Sigismond and Isabel think to wed?" " Not this great while, I trust. They are both but babes, and Sir Nicholas is loath to part with Isabel, she hath been ever his favourite. — But enough of me and mine. You have news for me, my lady. I read it in your face. You have received the decision from the Court of Wards. What says his lordship to your appeal ? " "The worst," and Lady Inyce's pale face grew paler as she spoke. " He holds out no hope, the judgment of the court must stand ! 'T is law, and I must bow to it, but oh !