Seething Days. A romance, etc

Front matter

SEETHING DAYS NEW NOVELS. MY IiADY BOTHA. A Eomance of the Thirty Years' War. By Stanley Weyman, Author of "A Gentleman of France." With Eight Illustrations by John Williamson. Crown 8vo, cloth, 6a. 20th Thousand. LOT 13. By Dorothea Gehaed, Author of " Lady Baby," &c. 3 vols. Crown 8vo, cloth, 81s. 6d. 6,000 TONS OP COLD. A Romance of Hard Cash. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. BROOMIEBURN. Border Sketches. By J. Cunningham. Crown 8vo, buckram, gilt top, 3s. Gd. HALF A HERO. By Anthony Hope, Author of " The Prisoner of Zenda." Third Edition. Crown 8vo, cloth, 6s. LONDON: A. D. INNES & CO., 31 & 32, BEDFORD STREET, STRAND frontispieci SEETHING DATS Jt Romance BY CAROLINE C. HOLROYD WITH EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS BY JOHN WILLIAMSON LONDON : A. D. INNES & CO., BEDFOED STREET 1894. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Frontispiece To face page 3 Sir Martin Astele and his niece Lettis ,, ,, 48 She courtesied avith an unsmiling face ,, „ 55 Hodge whipped at the cart-tail . ,, ,,68 The Lady Elizabeth receiving Sture ,, ,, 204 she gathered her wimple with a stately little grace . . „ ,, 244 Sir Martin in the prison courtyard „ ,, 311 He put her hand in mine . ,, ,, A TALE OF TUDOR TIMES.

A Narrative of Part of the Life of the Honoured Sir Martin Astele, Priest, sometime Curate of the Parish of Wymbleton, and of His Kin, by Me, Harry Sture. In this history I have related nought but that which hath come to me either through my own witness of the things which chanced, or through the papers and diary of Sir Martin Astele, or from the words of those who themselves acted or saw that which they told. Yet for the convenience of my narrative, and lest it should be overburdened with digressions, I have not always set down by what means each thing ivas known to me, saying, " This did I see myself," " Thus wrote Sir Martin," " This heard I from such a one," but have told the story straight on, saying, " Thus it chanced," "So spake Sir Martin," judging that thus I shall not weary my readers with impertinent matter, but may the more readily and simply tell my tale.

Chapter I

5 s | 1WAS April of the year of grace 1551, being the fifth year of Bang Edward, when I, a young man just attached to the household of Mr. Secretary Cecil, afterwards His Grace of Burleigh, journeyed unto Wymbleton where my lord then lay. Blithe of cheer was I, though withal something fearful in my mind, seeing that it was a great honour to be appointed of Mr. Secretary's household ; great indeed for me, a young gentleman of no large fortune, and much alone in the world, my parents being both some years dead, and I but lately called from our old house in Devonshire, by my uncle, Sir Nicholas Sture, who had gained me this advance ment. Much and gravely did the good knight admonish me. " Mr. Secretary Cecil," he said, " bids me send thee to him straightway. For my sake he will receive thee : for his further favour thou must depend on thyself.

Thy foot is on the ladder. See thou climb warily. These are perilous times, but a man who is cautious and fearless may go far ; and in my judgment there is no man more proper to whom thou mayest attach thyself than Mr. William Cecil, who, as I well opine, shall one day lead the State." Herein did my uncle, who knew that great man well, show a sagacity which I had many times occasion to discern in him. " But see," he said, " that thou serve him well and discreetly, for he is not one who will tolerate a fool's service. Be prompt of thought yet humble. Remember that zeal will not excuse an indiscretion, neither will fear excuse a weakness." In this discourse my uncle set before me a path not easy to follow for an untried youth : the way was strait, and there were pit-falls on either hand, seeing that much caution breeds in a man a timid weakness, while should he cast from him fear, he may well seem indiscreet.

Remembering the kindnesses shown to me now through many years by the Lord Treasurer, it is strange to me to recall those tremblings which took me as I marvelled what manner of man he should prove. Yet were my uncle's words and warnings well grounded in truth, and save our present great and glorious Queen, at whose awful frown all life and spirit must fail from the boldest heart, there lives no being on earth whose wrath I should so dread as my master's. For all my fearfulness I was merry on that spring day riding through a fair and excellent land, with a good steed under me, and two stout serving men to follow. We kept a needful look to our weapons, for there were many disorderly and riotous persons abroad, who worked not, and might threaten violence. But our hap was to journey peace fully enough.

For the greater part of the day our way had lain through a very fair country, being a great heath which extendeth for many miles north and west of Wymbleton. Here is indeed a noble land. One while we passed through woods where great elms did very well thrive, and mighty oaks, and here were beds of primroses set so thick that there was not room for a hand between, and among them did the white wind flowers rear their heads, and ground ivy here and there very profuse shed a blue tint over the earth. Because the trees were not yet come to their full leaf, the light of the sun gleamed between their tender green, and caused them to shine with a delicate brightness. Anon we came upon more open heath, the grass soft and fine starred with tiny flowers as eyebright, and the tormentil potent in some sicknesses.

At intervals were set clumps of hazel and of birch, and great tracks of gorse grow in many parts, also masses of tall ferns out from which the deer oft started. Of hares we saw not few, and of conies great plenty, as of partridges and pheasants. Also the whole air was full of the joyous singing of birds as merles and mavises and nightingales, for I can aver of my own knowledge that it is but a foolish fable which saith that these birds sing only by night. The larks be many in these parts, and kept up a merry strain, for no sooner had we passed out of hearing of one of them than we did see another in the blue sky. Here and there were pools of water, still, but sweet, for they be fed by springs, and true it is that one must needs ride warily for the streamlets trickle through the grass unseen, and make a great dampness in many parts.

The heron fishes here, and there is much wild fowl. Now as we grew something weary, and evening drew on, we deemed that we had come nigh unto Wymbleton, and presently we were assured by the sight of herds of the cottagers' pigs, and of cows and asses having right of pasturage on the com mon, that we must be drawing on to the village. The sun was setting, and never may I forget the sight as we came out upon a little mound and drew rein to breathe our horses. Here might we see far away across to the blue hills in the distance, and the thick trees of Coombe. In front was open heath very rich with gorse in flower, and in the midst a little blue mere. The sky was mixed of rose and gold, and then as it might have been a bar of iron lay across it, red hot above and black beneath, and below that a line of pale sea green or blue, one could scarce wot which, and the sun issued from the cloud as a great golden ball ready to sink behind the trees ; and in the mere was all this glory reflected, so that it shone like fire.

Behold, as I gazed and could not refrain my eyes from gazing, two maidens issued from a little thicket near and stood still, and I forgot the sunset to look at them, for one was the fairest woman I ever beheld. They were on a little mound beneath a great oak, through which the light fell easily, and behind them was a thicket of holly very dark, and thus would a limner have loved to make the background of that most sweet picture, seeing that their beauty shone light against the shadow, minding me of the fair nymph Pity that shines most to admiration near the darkest woe. She that stood foremost was tall beyond the usual stature of women, her face of a beauteous white and red, her air majestical, but her countenance sweet as becomes a woman, her hair of an admirable red gold, her eyes as the eyes of a fawn, large, brown and well opened.

Her hood was something thrown back, and she stood as one who waits listening, intent with her whole being. The other maid I might not so well see, for she had drawn her muffler across her face, and held it tight with one little hand ; only some threads of hair of the colour and softness of the silk as it comes from the worm, escaped and waved in the breeze. Also I could not choose but observe her voice as she spoke, for it was as a note of music so clear and sweet. "Oh, Coz, Coz," she said, " come back. It is not meet for damsels to wait here at eventide. Indeed, indeed, it is not well." " Go, thou, thou faint heart," answered the other, "I fear not to be alone." I marvelled that with such a face her tones were less pleasing than her companion's. So intent were they on their discourse and their purpose that they noted not my company, and while I delayed to advance the smaller maiden spoke again.

" I fear, but I should fear as much for thee did I leave thee. Cecily, sweet, think of thy father's anger did he see thee here." " I think," she answered, "of my true love's pain should he not see me. Knowest thou not all else weighs as dust in the balance ? My father's harsh ness doth but bind me to my love." Then at a little rustle in the bushes she turned herself and ran a few steps forwards, crying " He is come ! " She recoiled quickly, for forth issued from the thicket a very ill-favoured wretch, ragged, brawny and powerful. "Oh! ho! comrades, a prize!" he cried. "A very tender hind. Yea, two. Dainty hunting ! " Herewith he caught her dress, while two greasy jerkined scoundrels who followed him shouted — "Hurrah! for bully Hob. Trust him to scent the quarry." The maid with a shriek wrenched herself away and fled, he pursuing, and I rode forward calling, " Hands off, foul knave !

" By evil chance the little mound was steep and slippery ; my steed lost foothold and caught his hind hoof in a coney hole : he stumbled, fell, and rolled over with my leg beneath him. The ground was soft and uneven else ill had been my fate, and though uninjured I could not at first release myself, wherefore those silly varlets, Luke and Dick, must needs dismount to pull me up. In vain I called, " Dolts, aid the lady!" Dick blubbered and said, "Holy Virgin help us; for sure his leg is broke." Luke said stubbornly, " Let the damsels bide, master. Our work is with you." As I struggled to free myself, I saw how the villains, deeming we could no longer make or mar in the matter, pressed forward on their prey. The poor girl's petticoat caught on a bramble and stayed her flight. Then the slight maiden stepped before her friend and faced her foes right bravely.

Her voice rang out clear and commanding, "Hob Plough man, I know thee. Shame on thee, Hob ! At thy wife's begging I gave her food even now." The foremost wretch stopped abashed for a moment, and those who were following were frighted when they found that they were known, but he she called Hob, who, as I could well perceive, had drunk of the ale-cup more than enough, soon overcame his momentary mood of grace, and cried shamelessly, " I'll pay thee, pretty chuck. I'll kiss thee for't." She slipped from his grasp, and holding fast her friend who, in her distraction, would have run towards the common away from our company, she drew her by the hand a little way towards us saying fearlessly, " Back, we have help at hand." By this I had got my foot clear, and wrenched myself from Luke's officious grasp, for he clasped my leg by the ankle, to feel if it were broken, so tight that I must needs hop a step before I could get free ; which doing I sent him over backwards by a kick which did convince him no bones were broken, and drew my sword.

I verily believe the fellow Hob would have met my onset with a great quarter-staff that he had, being pot-valiant, had he not seen Dick coming also, and Luke gathering himself slowly up, and that his companions had deserted him, and were running for their lives ; wherefore he scowled upon us, muttered with a curse that we had spoiled a good game, and plunged into the thicket. I let him go unharmed, having more care to attend to the maidens who trembled very much. Wherefore, before even I saw to my poor steed I doffed my cap and bade them fear no more, for that the varlets fled. "We thank you for it, sir," answered the little lass. Her muffler had fallen back, and showed a face delicate, sweet, and fresh, that minded me of the brier rose on a May morning.* " Sweet Cis, recall thy courage," she said, for the other had sunk upon the ground, and could say no word.

With deft hands and dainty touches, like the movements of a bird, her friend did rearrange for her her disordered kirtle and wimple, prattling the while like a child, joyous at her release from danger. She had numbered at the most but fifteen summers. " All the saints be thanked," quoth she, " that you came hither, sir, at this moment, for indeed they are very evil men in their cups. You may judge that they stand at nought to attack us so boldly. I was mightily afeared. Cis, thou hast words at will. Help me to thank this gentleman." " 'Tis I have right to thank the saints that I had the favour to be of service to you, fair mis tresses," I replied. " Cis, art thou not better ? Rouse thee to come home." So she went on, "Think us not unmaidenly, sir, to have ventured thus abroad. Who could fear danger with the houses nigh at * Bacon gives roses as flowers in May.

The month began, of coarse, later than at present. hand. Do you travel towards Wymbleton ? We are but a stone's throw away. I am Lettis Alanson,* niece to Sir Martin Astele.t curate of Wymbleton, and this is my cousin, Mistress Cecily Astele." " Lettis," quoth Mistress Cecily, " thou wouldst prattle on the scaffold. I cannot cease to shudder. Sir, believe me," she added, rising up to her stately height. " We are much beholden to your good ness." I asked their leave to attend them to a place of safety, the which they joyfully accepted. My fellow, Luke, who for that he had known me as a youngster had not the deference he should have had, quoth then — * From a monument in Wimbledon Church, it appears that one PhiUp Lewston married as his second wife Lettis Alanson, in the early part of the sixteenth century.

The youngest child, Katharine, survived the others, and came into the Lewston property. She married William Walter, a Northamptonshire man, and they had at this time been living in Wimbledon about four years, having settled there in 1517. Our Lettis appears to have been a daughter of a younger brother of the first Lettis Alanson, and it is probable that Sir Martin owed the curacy to the interest of the Lewston or Walter family, probably backed up by Cecil, since Sir Martin was evidently remarkable both for learning and goodness, and it is known that Cecil was very anxious to raise the standard among the parish clergy. Wimbledon up to Henry VIII. 's time belonged to the Arch bishop of Canterbury. t The title of Sir was usually given to parish priests. " Tarry not in the doing, master. You may have those fellows back with a rabble anon."

Mistress Cecily rose to her feet, sore affrighted, but Luke went on grumbling. " Here's the gelding that his worship, your uncle, valued at a hundred shillings. A body would think, Master Hal, you set more store by a couple of young maids than by a rare beast like that, that you pay no heed to whether he is dead or alive." " See to him, sir, I pray you," quoth Mistress Lettis. I bade Luke be silent, or he should rue it as he deserved, being wrath to be flouted by a serving man, with words so discourteous towards the damsels, nor could I see that the horse had suffered any harm. But that was Luke's manner, a strange and surly fellow though a trusty. He had felt the weight of my arm for his insolence, but that both the damsels prayed me to move forward, wherefore bidding my varlets mount, and leading my steed, I wended along with the maidens, and told them of my name and state, and that I was to be of Sir William Cecil's household, whereat Mistress Cecily said — " A fearsome man !

" Quoth Mistress Lettis, " Nay, Coz, he is always right gentle to me, and takes a pleasure in discoursing with my uncle, as indeed well he may, for there is not so learned a clerk in all the country." "A wise priest," quoth I, "and you, my gracious mistresses, may certes easily command his good will. What is he like to prove to a young untried member of his household ? " "Just and true," quoth one; the other, "Cold and hard. They who would have his favour must walk within the narrow path he sets, and find it too by watching of his slightest glances. He meets displeasure who doth not trim his course to follow the master's mind and desires, though he hath never said one word to show that mind." " Sweet Coz, speak not so rashly," said Mistress Lettis, and she gave a somewhat anxious glance at my face.

Wherefore I said, smiling, their words were safe with me, and that for my part I must walk straight-forward and simply, trusting that this should please Mr. Secretary. To turn and twist and watch a man's humour like a fawning cur that cocks his ears and droops his tail at the master's whim, for this I am not skilled. We had now crossed the dell, and passing down a short green path, we left the heath, and saw on the one hand a few houses of the common folk, and on the other a green field or two. Mistress Cecily did cast ever and anon hurried glances hither and thither, and her fears being abated, she was even disposed to linger, but Mistress Lettis did hurry her little dainty steps, casting no glance around. Suddenly a young gallant appeared coming swiftly towards us, at whose sight a rosy flush did mount into Mistress Cecily's cheeks and mightily enhance her beauty.

Mistress Lettis drew her pretty brows together into a frown. Hers was ever the frank displeasure of a child, as real, as open, and as easily appeased. "I pray thee, sweet Coz, tarry not," she said, somewhat low, to her companion. Mistress Cecily, her hands half stretched out, and her eyes very bright, stepped towards him, but she drew back again, with a yet deeper flush of pain as of one chidden by a friend, when he uncovered with a certain stately ceremony, saying — " Mistress Cecily, and you Mistress Lettis, I commend me to you. You walk late. 'Tis well you are attended by this — young gentleman." He laid a stress upon the word "young," which was something provoking. Also his dress was of the latest courtly fashion, and as he spoke he glanced from my hat to my hose, and my cloak to my points.

Ere I could speak Mistress Cecily said hurriedly that I had saved them at need. " In verity," quoth he as one astonished. But when I said some lewd fellows purposed to insult the damsels, he interrupted me with sudden fury, crying— " They shall rue it, by God's power His eyes were the strangest I ever saw, having, when angry, a sort of tawny light in them. "This gentleman did swiftly fright them away, said Mistress Lettis. He paid no heed to her, but said, " What like were they? Speak, young sir." I liked not his rude imperious tone, therefore I answered shortly that the folk were unknown to me. Whereat Mistress Lettis looked comforted. " Which way went they? Mistresses, did ye not know them ? " he asked. "I was too frighted to take note," quoth Mis tress Cecily. Her cousin speaking somewhat stiffly, as one who would be gracious yet liked it not, turned towards the gallant.

" 'Twere best, Master Fowell, you did escort us to my uncle's door, seeing that this gentleman's way doth here divide from ours, as he wends to Mr. Cecil's." " Come with us, Master Fowell," quoth Mistress Cecily, softly. His dark face lightened somewhat. " Your com mands are my law," quoth he ; " afterwards," and again his brows contracted, " I will find these scoundrels." " We will not be out again so late," quoth Mis tress Lettis, with a little malice in her tone. " There shall not be an inch of ground unsafe for woman or child," quoth he. " I will take order." They pointed out to me the entrance to Mr. Cecil's ground, and I entering, they passed on towards the little church which lay not two stone throws off, peaceful in the evening light.

Chapter II

' i TE. SECRETARY dwelt in the Rectory House Vi which overlooketh the park appertaining to the manor of Wymbleton. In the days whereof I write the manor belonged to the Crown, as did also the Manor House, a substantial building of no great pretension, given later by our present most gracious Queen to Sir Nicholas Hatton.* Nor were the gardens then of much account, but the large park did always have in it a rare and wild beauty. Mr. Secretary's house which, as I have said, did lie hard by the park, he held in lease of sixty years from the Dean and Chapter of Worcester, to whom the Rectory of Wymbleton doth belong, they pro viding a curate for the service of the church, and * It was bought from Sir Nicholas Hatton by Sir Thomas Cecil, who built a very fine house there. appointing unto him a meet residence.

The Rectory, though but a small dwelling, for one of my master's consideration, is far above the housing of a curate, being fitted for the residence of the rectors when they did reside here, seeing that the great tithes are considerable. It is a long house built of white stone, the rooms many and commodious but not large ; attached are two good stables for coaches, and stalls for fourteen horses. The house standeth east and west, the entrance-gate of the grounds being to the northward. Approaching from the common one must pass the house before he enters it, then having come within a fair gateway of stone with the Cecil arms right seemly carved on either post, I found myself within a very pleasant court. In the centre was a fair plot of turf, in the midst whereof rose a fountain, and a nymph, nobly carved of a right gracious bearing, poured forth the water from her urn held well on high.

On my left hand beyond the grass plot and mountain did stretch away sundry alleys of box and privet trimmed very quaintly, and beyond these again the garden was bounded by trees of mingled sorts, as of elm and ash, also cedars and firs. Before me to the south the ground sloped gently upward, set here and there with yews, and at the top of the ascent did stand the church, with white walls and red tiled roof, and venerable with grey lichen on its walls. On my right hand lay the house, and behind me a most noble prospect. Here the ground did descend something abruptly, so that one might see the most part of the park, set here and there with clumps and thickets of thorn and privet, and dotted with very stately trees. Towards the east a large mere did stretch out in the valley, and beyond again lay rising grounds and wood.

Having told my name and quality, I was bidden to an apartment where I should cleanse the soils of my journey, and presently advised that Mr. Secretary, being something busied that evening, would receive me the following day. Meanwhile supper was prepared for me in a fair chamber, the rushes marvellously sweet and fresh. As I refreshed myself with a choice pasty and ale of the best, I did think gaily of my future life, as one who had fair promise of pleasant days. I did advise me how I should bear myself towards Mr. Cecil, feeling, spite all adverse discourse concerning him, of a good courage and stout heart, to please him with honest service, and, in some fashion or other, to make my way in the world. I deemed it a good omen that my first adventure had been with so sweet companions ; and therewith I began to wonder concerning them, and what they did on the heath.

Just then a step echoed upon the stones without, and I heard a voice, both powerful and melodious, singing snatches of song — " With a hey, Nell, and a ho, Nell I Sweet Nell for me. Where the wild throstles dwell I'll sing to thee. Every bird hath its mate ; Mating are we. Care hide thy frowsy pate Wake jollity ! " The hanging was drawn aside, and there entered the gentleman who had met us as we passed the hamlet. The superciliousness and the anger had both passed from his manner, which was gay and courteous. Now that his countenance was lighted up with cheerfulness, he appeared of a comely visage ; his features were well formed, though somewhat sharp, the brow very prominent over the eyes. "I speak to one of Mr. Secretary's household ? " quoth I, as we saluted. " In truth, sir, yea, sir," he answered ; " an unworthy member of it, seeing, I fear me, I do fail something of its great gravity and decorum.

Now, by the twinkle of your eye, I trust I meet a fellow sinner." "If it be a sin to love mirth, I own mine offending," quoth I. "I pledge you," said he, reaching out to the flagon. " Prim as a nun's hen is the ordering here. The sack is good, and comforteth the heart, else should one die of doleful dumps." And again he sang, in his rich voice — " Should a fair maid, Merry or staid, Bring, in her white hands, the can, She doubleth her sweetness, And showeth her meetness, To win a kind kiss from a man. Am I alone, Crusty old Joan Beareth in brown hands the can ; Despite her ill-favour, She mars not the flavour That gives a gay heart to a man." It joyeth me to perceive," quoth I, " that in this drear abode you have comforts, as song and wine," for it seemed to me that he was scarce ordering himself with the gravity of which he spoke.

He laughed. " Also I am now blest with some creature under forty with whom to hold converse. I find little pleasure in a lonely feast. These are my thanksgivings for your coming." He cast at me, as he stroked his peaked beard, a keen, shrewd glance, that contrasted something oddly with his heedless merriment. He seemed to question what I thought of him. And I, crediting little of his last remark, passed it by, and inquired of him if he had been long in Mr. Secretary's household. " Some two years — since I took on me the grace of the priesthood," he said, with a sneer and a sudden darkening of all his face, that showed it again as it looked when first I saw it. " Priest ! " quoth I, in much amazement. He laughed, and his face changed again. " 'Tis passing strange, truly. On their heads be it who did force me thereunto.

Yet why should I talk thus ? The priests of our fathers' time were jovial fellows enough in secret. Shall we of the new lights have less freedom ? I trow not. Saith not the holy Saint Paul, 'All things are lawful ' ? Aye, and that they are cursed who for bid meats and marrying. Cursed be they, say I." "What meanest thou? Thou wouldst not have priests wedded ? " I questioned. " Certes, no ! " he answered, in a jibing tone. " A priest is not as other men. He hath no passions. You chain up your dog to make him fierce ; but for men's affections, bind them tight, and dream they shall not raven like wolves, but be gentle as lambs." There uprose before my eyes a vision of the lovely maid I had rescued, and of the light in her eyes when she looked upon this man, and I ex claimed with heat, " Unworthy he that would drag a woman down to be that public scorn, a priest's wife !