“My duty most humbly remembered. I trust your La. will pardon me in writing plainly and truly, although it be both bluntly and tediously. I met my L. at Bolsover yesterday about one of the clock, who at the very first was rather desirous to hear from hence than to enquire of Killingworth. Quoth he, ‘Gilbert, what talk had my wife with you?’ ‘Marry, my L.,’ quoth I, ‘it hath pleased her to talk with me once or twice since my coming, but the matter she most spoke of is no small discomfort for me to understand.’ Then he was very desirous and bade me tell him what. I began: ‘Truly, Sir, with as grieved a mind as ever I saw woman in my life, she told me your L. was vehemently offended with her, in such sort, and with so many words and shows in your anger of evil will towards her, as thereby your L. said you could not but seem doubtful that all his wonted love and affection is clean turned to the contrary; for your L. further said, you had given him no cause at all to be offended.’ You hearing that your embroiderers were kept out of the Lodge from their beds by John Dickenson’s command said to my L. these words in the morning, ‘Now did you give command that the embroiderers should be kept out of the Lodge?’ and my L. answered ‘No.’ ‘Then,’ quoth your La., ‘they were kept from their beds there yesternight; and he that did so said John Dickenson had given that express command.’ Which my L. said was a lie. And he said it was utterly untrue. And so I would have gone on to have told the rest; how your La. willed him to enquire whether they were not in this manner kept out or no: but his proceeding into vehement choler and hard speeches he cut me off, saying it was to no purposs to hear any recital of this matter, for if he listed he said he could remember cruel speeches your La. used to him, ‘which were such as,’ quoth he, ‘I was forced to tell her, she scolded like one that came from the Bank.^[53] Then, Gilbert,’ said he, ‘judge whether I had cause or not. Well,’ quoth he, ‘I will speak no more of this matter: but she hath such a sort of varlets about her as never ceaseth carrying tales’; and then uttered cruel words against Owen chiefly and the embroiderers, over long to trouble your La. with. So being alighted from his horse all this while, said, ‘Let us get up and be gone; and I shall have enough to do when I come home.’ Then quoth I, ‘I think my La. be at Chatsworth by this time.’ ‘What!’ quoth he, ‘is she gone from Sheffield?’ I answered, ‘By nine of the clock.’ Whereupon he seemed to marvel greatly, and said, ‘Is her malice such that she would not tarry one night for my coming?’ I answered that your La. told me that he was contented at your first coming you should go as yesterday: which he swore he never heard of. ‘Then,’ quoth I, ‘my La. further told me that when your L. was contented for her departure that day, he said that he had business in the Peake and would shortly come thither, and lie at Chatsworth.’ Quoth he, ‘Her going away thus giveth me small cause to come to Chatsworth,’ but answered not whether he said so or not. But I assure your La. before God, he was and is greatly offended with your going hence yesterday.

“After he had seen all his grounds about Bolsover, and was coming into the way homewards, he began with me again saying that all the house might discern your Ladyship’s stomach against him by your departure before his coming. I answered beside what I said before, that your La. said you had very great and earnest business as well at Chatsworth for your things there, as to deal with certain freeholders for Sir Thomas Stanhope, but he allowed not any reason or cause, but was exceeding angry for the same. Whereupon I spake at large which I beseech your La. to pardon my tediousness in repeating thereof, or at least the most thereof. Quoth I, ‘I pray your L. give leave to tell you plainly what I gathered by my Lady. I see she is so grieved and vexed in mind as I protest to God I never saw any woman more in my life; and after she told me how without any cause at all your L. uttered most cruel and bitter speeches against her, when she all the while never uttered any undutiful word, and had particularly imparted the whole matter, she plainly declared unto me that she thought your L. heart was withdrawn from her, and all your affection and love to hate and evil will’: saying that you took it as your cross that so contrary to your deservings he adjudged of you, applinge^[54] the manifold shows which you so indefinitely have made proof; and so forgot no earnest protestations that your La. pleased to utter to me of your dear affection and love to him both in health and sickness, taking it upon your soul that you wished his griefs were on yourself to disburden and quit him of [them].

“And quoth I, ‘My L., when she told me of this her dear love towards you, and now how your L. hath requited her, she was in such perplexity as I never saw woman’: and concluded, that your La. speech was that now you know he thought himself most happy when you were absent from, and most unhappy when you were with him. And this, I assure your La., he heeded; and although I cannot say his very word was that he had injured and wronged you, yet both by his countenance and words it plainly showed the same, and [he] answered, ‘I know,’ quoth he, ‘her love hath been great to me: and mine hath been and is as great to her: for what can a man do more for his wife than I have done and daily do for her?’ And so reckoned at large, your La. may think with the most, what he hath given and bestowed. Whereunto I could not otherwise reply than thus. Quoth I, ‘My L., she were to blame if she considered not these things: but I gather plainly by her speech to me that she thinketh notwithstanding that your heart is hardened against her, as I have once or twice already told your Lordship, and that you love them that love not her, and believe those about you which hateth her.’ And at your departure I said that your La. told me that you verily thought my L. was gladder of your absence than presence. Wherein, I assure your La., he deeply protested the contrary: and said, ‘Gilbert, you know the contrary; and how often I have cursed the buildings at Chatsworth for want of her company: but [quoth he] you see she careth not for my company by going away. I would not have done so to her....’ But after this he talked not much; but I know it pinched him, and on my conscience I think so; but what effects will follow God knoweth.

“I will write again to your La. what I find by him this day; for yesternight having not talked with any but myself, I know that his heart desireth reconciliation if he wist which way to bring it to pass. Living God grant it, and make his heart turn to your comfort in all things.

“To-morrow he will send me to Derby about Sir Thomas Stanhope’s matter. I most humbly beseech your La. blessing to me and mine. George rejoiced so greatly yesternight at my L. coming home, as I could not have believed if I had not seen it. Sunday at nine of the clock. For God’s sake, Madame, pardon my very tedious and evil favoured scribbling.

“Your La. most humble and obedient loving son,

“The hasty letter from Sir John Constable was to advertise that there are two Scots that travel with linen cloths to sell, that gave letters of importance to this Queen: one of them is brother to Curle. My L. Huntington’s letter was refusal of land that my L. offered him to sell.”

“What effects will follow God knoweth!” Certainly 1577 was an unhappy year for the house of Shrewsbury. “This world,” as Lord Leicester says in one of his letters to the great Earl, “is wholly given to reports and bruits of all sorts.” And these conjugal bickerings, as the Earl foresaw, would beget reports which, added to the “bruits” he had to face almost daily anent his prisoner, would certainly crush him and his wife. For the present the latter rumours were reviving in such force that he could not stop to think of his private affairs. In his letter to his wife—the first letter quoted in this chapter—he had alluded to one of these “bruits,” and his apprehensions naturally made him greatly desire the companionship of his Bess.

These rumours were no laughing matter. Affairs in the Netherlands were now complicating England’s foreign policy, and the rumour of the wooing of Mary of Scotland by the gallant Don John of Austria caused all sorts of suspicions of her release. For this audacious and foolhardy soldier had projected a programme of exploits which included the subjugation of the Low Countries, the conquest of England, and, through Mary, the sovereignty over it and the restoration of the Romish faith. My Lord Treasurer promptly indited the following to Mary’s gaoler:—

“My very good Lord,

“I cannot but continue my thanks for all your liberal courtesies, praying your Lordship to assure yourself of my poor but yet assured friendship while I live. At my coming to the Court I found such alarm by news directly written from France, and from the Low Countries, of the Queen of Scots’ escape, either already made or very shortly to be attempted, as (surely knowing, as I did, your circumspection in keeping of her, and hearing all things in that country about you very quiet, and free from such dangers) I was bold to make small account of the news, although her Majesty, and the Council here, were therewith perplexed. And though time doth try these news for anything already done false, yet the noise thereof, and the doubt that her Majesty halts for secret hidden practices, to be wrought rather by corruption of some of yours whom you shall trust than by open force, moveth her Majesty to warn your Lordship, as she said she would write to your Lordship that you continue, or rather increase, your vigilancy ...; and as I think your Lordship hath carried your charge to Chatsworth, so I think that house a very meet bourn for good preservation thereof; having no town of resort where any ambushes ... may lie.”

Shrewsbury had removed Mary to Chatsworth during the late summer of 1577, and his motive in applying for leave to do so was apparently not unmixed with an earnest desire for that “reconciliation” at which Gilbert hinted. There was, besides, a very potent reason for the rapprochement of husband and wife. On Gilbert and Mary Talbot great sorrow had fallen. The adored baby son George, the “lytell fellow,” died suddenly. The Earl tells it to Burghley. He writes from Sheffield briefly, incoherently. The loss hits him very hard, and he acknowledges that this child is his best beloved, the Queen’s Majesty only excepted. In fear of the effect of the blow upon his excitable wife he suggests that Burghley’s reply and condolences should be addressed to her, and so help to “rule” and control her.

“My very good Lord,—When it pleased God of His goodness yesternight a little before supper to visit suddenly my dearest jewel under God next to my Sovereign, with mortality of sickness, and that it hath pleased God of his goodness to take that sweet babe from me, he surely was a toward child. I thought it rather by myself than by common report you should understand it from me, that though it nips me near, yet the fear I have of God and the dutiful care to discharge my duty and trust my mistress puts me in, makes me now that he is gone to put away needless care and to look about me that I am put in trust withal—and, my Lord, because I doubt my wife will show more folly than need requires, I pray your Lordship write your letter to her, which I hope will greatly rule her. So wishing to your Lordship perfect health, I take my leave. Sheffield, 12th of August, 1577.

To Walsingham the Earl also announces this news, adding, “Howbeit, I do not willingly obey unto His will who took him, who only lent him me, without grudging thereat; but my wife (although she acknowledge no less) is not so well able to rule her passions, and hath driven herself into such case by her continual weeping, as it likes to breed in her further inconvenience.” Wherefore he is particularly anxious to join her at Chatsworth, and begs that the Queen shall be “moved” for the requisite permission.

This visit was ended by the beginning of November, when Queen Mary was once more bundled back to Sheffield. At this time she seems to have been on the best of terms with Earl and Countess, and ready to do them every kindness in her power. For instance, she sent to France for a bed for them. But as this was not at the moment acceptable she mentions in a letter her intention to “fulfil my promise by another bed of finer stuff.” It came to her knowledge that they required half a dozen great hall candlesticks such as those “made at Crotelles,” whereupon she sent for “the largest, richest, and best made.” These were to be sent among articles ordered by her servants, “so that they may create no suspicion.”

It is sometimes hard to distinguish from her bribes the presents Mary made out of sheer generosity.