CHAPTER XXXIV.
We talk, in ladies' chambers, love and news.--Cowley.
All was bustle and preparation at the court of England; for the twomost magnificent monarchs of the world were about to contend with eachother, not with the strife of arms, nor by a competition of greatdeeds, but in pomp, in pageant, and in show; in empty glitter andunfruitful display. However that may be, the palace and all itsprecincts became the elysium of tailors, embroiderers, andsempstresses. There might be seen many a shadowy form gliding aboutfrom apartment to apartment, with smiling looks and extended shears,or armed with ell-wands more potent than Mercury's road, driving manya poor soul to perdition, and transforming his goodly acres intovelvet suits with tags of cloth of gold.
The courts of the king's palace of Bridewell rang from morning tillnight with the neighing of steeds, the clanking of harness, and thesound of the trumpet; and the shops and warehouses of London werenearly emptied of gold, jewels, and brocade. Men and women were allwild to outdo their French equals in splendour and display; and, inshort, the mad dog of extravagance seemed to have bitten all theworld.
In a small room in the palace, not far from the immediate apartmentsof the queen, sat a very lovely girl, whom the reader has not spokento for a long time: no other than Lady Katrine Bulmer, who, with amore pensive air than was usual with her, sat deep in the mysteries ofbibs and tuckers, chaperons and fraisies, mantuas and hanging sleeves,which last had, for the moment, regained their ascendancy in thepublic taste, and were now ornamented with more extraordinarytrimmings than ever.
By her side sat her two women, Geraldine and Bridget, whose fingerswere going with the rapidity of lightning, quickened into excessivehaste by the approaching removal of the court to Calais, which was totake place in the short space of one week, while their mistress'sdresses were not half-finished, and their own not begun.
What it was that occupied Lady Katrine's thoughts, and made her gayface look grave, is nothing to any one. Perhaps it might be, that shehad not as many dresses as Lady Winifred Stanton; perhaps she had seena jewel that she could not afford to buy; perhaps Higglemeasure, themerchant, had brought her a brocade that the queen would not let herwear; perhaps she was vexed at not having seen Lord Darby for eightdays, the last time having been on the same morning that Sir OsborneMaurice had been driven from the court. Perhaps she was angry withherself for having parted from him with an affectation of indifferencewhich she did not feel.
Well aware that, now Wolsey had returned, the pleasure of seeing herlover almost daily must cease; and that stiff and formal interviews,in presence of the whole court, or a few brief sentences at a mask orpageant, were all they could hope to attain; Lady Katrine did indeedrepent that she had suffered her own caprices to mingle any bitter inthe few happy hours that Fate had sent her.
Though she had some vanity, too, she had not enough to prevent herseeing and regretting that she had been in fault; and she made thoseresolutions of amendment which a light spirit often forms every hour,and breaks before the next: and thus sewing and thinking, and thinkingand sewing, and stitching in excellent determinations with every seamas she went along, she revolved in her own mind all the various eventsthat had lately happened at the court.
It may well be supposed, that the sudden disappearance of Sir OsborneMaurice, at the same time as that of Lady Constance de Grey, had givenrise to many strange rumours, none of which, of course, did LadyKatrine believe; and, to do her justice, although perhaps she was notat all sorry that Constance had judged it right to put an end to anyfurther proceedings regarding her marriage with Lord Darby, byremoving herself from the court, yet Lady Katrine suffered no one tohint a doubt in her presence regarding her friend's conduct. But thatwhich was much more in Constance's favour was the good word of thequeen herself, who at once silenced scandal by saying, that she wouldtake upon herself to assert, that Lady Constance de Grey had neverdreamed of flying from the court with Sir Osborne Maurice. It was verynatural, she observed, that a young heiress of rank, and wealth, andproud family, should take refuge anywhere, rather than contract amarriage to which she had always expressed her repugnance; and withoutmeaning offence to the lord cardinal, she could not think but thatConstance was right.
Notwithstanding this, many were the tales that were circulated by theliemongers of the court; and it hurt the really generous heart of LadyKatrine to hear them. Meditating, then, over all these circumstances,nearly in the same desultory way in which they are here written down,she took little notice when one of the servants of the palace calledher maid Geraldine out of the room. After a short while, Geraldinecame back and called out Bridget, and still Lady Katrine continued towork on. After a moment or two she ceased, and leaning her head on herhand, gave herself up to still deeper thought, when suddenly the dooropened and Lord Darby presented himself.
Too much taken by surprise to give herself any airs, Lady Katrinelooked up with a smile of unaffected delight, and Darby, reading hiswelcome in her eyes, advanced, and casting his arm round her,imprinted a warm kiss on the full arching lips that smiled tootemptingly for human philosophy to resist. Luckily did it happen thathe did so within the first minute; for, had he waited later, LadyKatrine might not so easily have pardoned his boldness. However, heronly remark was, "Well, Darby, you seem to think it so much a matterof course, that I suppose I too must let it pass as such. But don'tlook so happy, man, lest I should take it into my head to make youlook otherwise before you go."
"Nay, nay, Katrine," said Lord Darby; "not so, when I come solely forthe purpose of asking you to make me happy."
The earl spoke seriously, tenderly, and there was so much hope, andaffection, and feeling in his glance, that Lady Katrine felt theremust be some meaning in his words. "If you love me, Darby," cried she,"tell me what you mean; and make haste, for my maids will be back, andyou know you must not stay here."
"Yes, I may, Katrine," replied he; "no one but you can now send meaway. In a word, dear girl, to put an end to suspense, I have theking's and the cardinal's consent to ask your hand, and the queen's toseek you here. Will you refuse me?"
Lady Katrine looked at him for a moment, to be sure, quite sure, thatwhat she heard was true; then dropping her head upon his shoulder, sheburst into a violent flood of tears. So sudden, so delightful was thechange in all her feelings, that she was surprised out of all herreserve, all her coquetry, and could only murmur, "Refuse you? no!"But starting up, at length she cried, "I have a great mind that Iwill, too. Don't think that I love you. No, I hate you most bitterlyfor making me cry: you did it on purpose, beyond doubt, and I won'tforgive you easily. So, to begin your punishment, go away and leave medirectly."
"Nay, Katrine, I must disobey," replied the earl, "for I have othernews to tell you: your relation, Lord Orham, is dead."
"My relation?" cried Lady Katrine, whose tears were ever dried as soonas shed. "Oh, yes! I remember: he was my great-grandfather'sseventieth cousin by the mother's side. One was descended from Shem,and the other from Japheth, in the time of the flood, or before, foraught I know. Well, what of my antediluvian relative? Oh! he is dead,you say? May he rest with Noah!"
"But you must take mourning for him," said Lord Darby, laughing;"indeed you must."
"Certainly," replied Lady Katrine: "a coif and a widow's hood. But Iwon't be teased, Darby: I will tease everybody, and nobody shall teaseme. As to going into mourning for the old miser just now, when all myfinery is ready made, to show myself at Guisnes and captivate allhearts, and make you fight fifty single combats--I won't do it. There,go and ask my singing-bird to moult in the month of May, or anythingelse of the same kind; but don't ask me to leave one single row oflace off my sleeve for the miser. I disown him."
"Hush! hush! hush!" cried the earl; "take care he does not come backand disown you, for otherwise you are his heiress."
"I!" exclaimed Lady Katrine; "am I his heiress? Now, Mistress Fortune,I am your very humble servant! Bless us! how much more important aperson Katrine Bulmer will be, with
all the heavy coffers of her latedear cousin, than when she was poor Katrine Bulmer, the queen's woman!Darby, I give you notice: I shall not marry you. I could wed a dukenow, doubtless: who shall it be? All the dukes have wives, I dobelieve. However, there is many a peer richer than you are, and thoughyou do not count cousinship with kings, gold is my passion now; so Iwill sell myself to him who has the most."
Though she spoke in jest, still Lord Darby was mortified; for what hecould have borne and laughed at in the poor and fortuneless girl whohad captivated his heart, his spirit was too proud to endure where amercenary motive could be for a moment attributed to him. "Nay,Katrine," said he, "if the fortune that is now yours give you any wishfor change, your promises are to me null: I render them back to youfrom this moment."
"Why, they _were made_ under very different circumstances, you mustallow, Lord Darby," replied she, assuming a most malicious air ofgravity, and delighted at having found, for the first time in herlife, the means of putting her lover out of humour.
"They were, Lady Katrine," answered the earl, much more deeply hurtthan she imagined, "and therefore they are at an end. I have nothingfurther to do then but to take my leave."
"Good-bye, my lord; good-bye!" cried she. "Heaven bless and prosperyou!" and with the utmost tranquillity she watched him approach thedoor. "Now, shall I let him go or not?" said she. "Oh woman! woman!you are a great fool! Darby! Darby!" she added in a soft voice, "comeback to your Katrine."
Lord Darby turned back and caught her in his arms. "Dear teasinggirl!" cried he; "why, why will you strive to wring a heart that lovesyou?"
"Nay, Darby, if things were rightly stated, it is I who have cause tobe offended rather than you," answered the lady. "What right had you,sir, to think that the heart of Katrine Bulmer was so base, so mean,as to be changed by the possession of a few paltry counters? Own thatyou have done me wrong this instant, or I will never forgive you. Downupon your knee! a kneeling confession, or you are condemned beyondhope of grace."
Lord Darby was fain to obey his gay lady's behest, and bending hisknee, he freely confessed himself guilty of all the crimes she thoughtproper to charge him withal; in the midst of which, however, he wasinterrupted by the entrance of an attendant sent by the queen to callLady Katrine to her presence.
The lady laughed and blushed at being found with Lord Darby at herfeet; and the earl, not particularly well pleased at the interruption,turned to the usher, saying, with the sort of _nonchalant_ air whichhe often assumed, "Well, sir, before you go, tell the lady when it wasyou last found me on my knees to any of the fair dames of the court."
"Never, my lord, so please you, that I know of," answered the man,somewhat surprised.
"Well, then," rejoined Darby, "next time knock at the door, for fearyou should. In which case, you might chance to be thrown down stairsby the collar."
"Hush, hush, Darby!" cried Lady Katrine; "I must go to her highness.Doubtless we shall not meet again for a long while; so fare you well!"and tripping away after the usher, without other adieu, she left herlover to console himself in her absence as best he might.
On entering the queen's apartment, she found her royal mistress alonewith the king, and, according to the etiquette of that day, wasdrawing back instantly, when Katherine called her forward. "Comehither, my wild namesake," said the queen; "his grace the king wishesto speak with you. Come near, and answer him all his questions."
Lady Katrine advanced, and kneeling on a velvet cushion at Henry'sfeet, prepared to reply to whatever he might ask, with as muchpropriety as she could command; although the glad news of the morninghad raised her spirits to a pitch of uncontrollable joyousness, whicheven the presence of the imperious monarch himself could hardly keepwithin bounds.
"Well, my merry mistress," said the king, seeing in her laughing eyesthe ebullition of her heart's gladness; "it seems that you do not pineyourself to death for the loss of Sir Osborne Maurice?"
"I deeply regret, your grace," said Lady Katrine, turning grave for amoment, "most deeply, that Sir Osborne Maurice should have incurredyour royal displeasure; for he seemed to me as perfect a knight and asnoble a gentleman as I ever saw. But in no other respect do I regrethis absence."
"Well, we have tried to supply his place with one you may likebetter," said Henry. "Have you seen the Earl of Darby--ha? What thinkyou of the exchange, pretty one?"
"I thank your grace's bounty," said the gay girl. "I have seen hislordship, and looked at him well; and though he be neither so handsomeas Narcissus nor so wise as Solon, he may do well enough for such agiddy thing as I am. Saving your grace's presence, one does not lookfor perfection in a husband: one might as well hope to find a pippinwithout a spot."
"Thou art a malapert chit, Kate," said the queen, laughing; "sure Iam, if your royal lord was not right gentle in his nature, he would beangry with your wild chattering."
"Nay, let her run on," said the king; "a tongue like hers has noguile. If you are contented, sweetheart," he added, addressing LadyKatrine, "that is enough."
"Oh, yes! quite contented, your grace," answered she. "I have not hada new plaything for so long, that a husband is quite a treat. Isuppose he must be sent to the _man?ge_ first, like the jennet yourhighness gave me, to learn his paces."
"If he were as untamed as you are, mistress," answered the king, "hemight need it. But to another subject, fair one. You were with SirOsborne Maurice and his party when he encountered the rioters nearRochester. Some sad treasons are but too surely proved against thatluckless young man; yet I would fain believe that his misconduct wentnot to the extent which was at first reported, especially as theaccusation was made by that most ruffianly traitor, Sir Payan Wileton,whom the keen eye of my zealous Wolsey has discovered to be stainedwith many crimes too black for words to paint. Now, amongst otherthings, it was urged that this Sir Osborne was in league with thoseRochester mutineers, the greatest proof of which was their letting himquietly pass with so small a party, when they boldly attacked thecompany of Lord Thomas Howard, with ten times the force."
Lady Katrine could hardly wait till the king had ceased. "This shows,"cried she at length, "how the keenest wisdom and the noblest heart maybe abused by a crafty tale. Sir Osborne knew nothing of the rioters,my lord: he took every way to avoid them, because I, unluckily, havingneither father nor brother to protect me, encumbered him by mypresence; otherwise, without doubt, he would have delivered the poorpriest they had with them by his lance, and not by fair words. Neverbelieve a word of it, your grace. His shield-bearer, indeed, while theknight drew up his men to defend us to the best of his power,recognised the leader of the tumultuaries as an old fellow-soldier,and craved leave of his lord to go and demand a free passage for us,by which means we escaped. Oh! my lord, as you are famous for yourclemency and justice, examine well the whole tale of that Sir PayanWileton, and it will be found false and villanous, as are all the restof his actions."
"You are eloquent, lady fair," said the king with a smile; "we willtell Darby to look to it. But as to Sir Payan Wileton, his baseness isnow known to us; and as we progress down to Dover, we will send asergeant-at-arms to bring him with us to Calais, where we will, withour council, hear and judge the whole. Then, if he be the man we thinkhim, not only shall he restore to the old Lord Fitzbernard thelordship of Chilham and the stewardship of Dover, but shall stoop hishead to the axe without grace or pardon, as I live. But say, know youaught of Lady Constance de Grey, in whose secrets you are supposed tohave had a share? Laugh not, pretty one; for by my life it shall gohard with you if you tell not the truth."
"Oh, please your grace, don't have my head cut off!" cried LadyKatrine, seeing, notwithstanding the king's threat, that he was in oneof his happier moods. "I never told a lie in my life, except one daywhen I said I did not love your highness, and that was when you putoff the pageant of the _Castle Dolorous_ till after pentecost, and Iwanted it directly. But on my word, as I hope to be married in a year,and a widow in God's good time, I know no more of where Constance deGrey i
s, or whither she went, or when, or how, than the child unborn."
"Did she never speak to you thereof, my saucy mistress?" demandedHenry. "You consorted with her much: 'twere strange if she did not letsomething fall concerning her purposes, and she a woman, too."
"I wish I had a secret," said Lady Katrine, half-apart, half-aloud,"just to show how a woman can keep counsel, if it were but in spite.Good, your grace," she continued, "you do not think that Constancewould trust her private thoughts to such a light-headed thing as I am.But, to set your highness's mind at ease, I vow and protest, by thelove and duty I bear to you and my royal mistress; by my conscience,which is tender; and by my honour, which is strong; that I knownothing of Lady Constance de Grey, and that even in my very bestimaginings I cannot divine whither she is gone."
"Your highness may believe her," said the queen; "wild as she is, shewould not stain her lips with the touch of falsehood, I am sure. Getye gone, Kate, and hasten your sempstresses, for we shall set out aday before it was intended; and mind you plume up your brightestfeathers, for we must outdo the Frenchwomen."
"Oh, good, your grace! I shall never be ready in time," replied theyoung lady. "Besides, they tell me I must put on mourning for myfiftieth cousin by the side of Adam, old Lord Orham the miser. If Ido, it shall be gold crape trimmed with cobwebs, I declare; and so Ihumbly take my leave of both your graces."
Thus saying, she rose from the cushion, dropped a low curtsey to theking and queen, and tripped away to her own apartments.
Common bustle and ordinary preparation may be easily imagined. Allcan, without difficulty, figure to themselves the turmoil preparatoryto a ball where there are six daughters to marry, with much blood andvery little money: the lady-mother scolding the housekeeper in herroom, and the housekeeper scolding all the servants in hers; areasonable number of upholsterers, decorators, floor-chalkers,confectioners, milliners; much talking to very little purpose;scheming, drilling, and dressing; agitation on the part of the youngladies, and calculation on the part of their mamma. And at the end ofa few weeks the matter is done and over. But no mind, however vast maybe its powers of conceiving a bustle, can imagine anything like thecourt of Westminster for the three days prior to the king's departurefor Canterbury.
So continual were the demands upon every kind of artisan, that theimpossibility of executing them threw several into despair. Onetailor, who is reported to have undertaken to furnish fiftyembroidered suits in three days, on beholding the mountain of gold andvelvet that cumbered his shop-board, saw, like Brutus, theimpossibility of victory, and, with Roman fortitude, fell on his ownshears. Three armourers are said to have been completely melted withthe heat of their furnaces; and an unfortunate goldsmith swallowedmolten silver to escape the persecutions of the day.
The road from London to Canterbury was covered during one whole weekwith carts and waggons, mules, horses, and soldiers; and so great wasthe confusion, that marshals were at length stationed to keep thewhole in order, which of course increased the said confusion a hundredfold. So many were the ships passing between Dover and Calais, thatthe historians affirm they jostled each other on the sea, like a herdof great black porkers; and it is known as a fact, that the number ofpersons collected in the good town of Calais was more than it couldlodge; so that not only the city itself, but all the villages roundabout, were full to the overflowing.
At length the king set out, accompanied by an immense train, and leftLondon comparatively a desert; while, as he went from station tostation, he seemed like a shepherd driving all the better classes ofthe country before him, and leaving not a single straggler behind. Hisfarther progress, however, was stayed for a time at Canterbury, by thenews that the emperor Charles, his wife's nephew, was on the seabefore Dover, furnished with the excuse of relationship for visitingthe English king, though in reality conducted thither solely by thewish to break the good understanding of the English and Frenchmonarchs; or rather to ensure that no treaty contrary to his interestshould be negotiated at the approaching meeting.
With that we have nothing to do; and it is a maxim which a historianshould always follow, never to mind anybody's business but his own. Weshall therefore only say, that the king and Wolsey, occupied with thereception of the emperor, and his entertainment during the short timehe stayed, forgot entirely Sir Payan Wileton till they reached Dover,when some one happening to call it a _chilly morning_, put ChilhamCastle in Wolsey's head (for on such little pivots turn all the wheelsof the world); and immediately a sergeant-at-arms, with a body ofhorse-archers, was sent to arrest the worthy knight and bring him toCalais, for which port the king and the whole court embarkedimmediately; and, with a fair wind and fine sky, arrived in safetytowards the evening.