CHAPTER XVII

THE COIL THICKENS

That last plaint of George Talbot was in 1582. Previous to this the curious letters quoted from Gilbert Talbot give a pretty graphic notion of the acute irritation between his parents. They still sometimes acted in concert. In 1583 (February 7th) both of them wrote simultaneously to Burghley to desire his good offices in appeasing the Queen anent the marriage of the Countess’s nephew, John Wingfield, to the Countess of Kent. By 1584 the affair seems to have developed into a very unequal family feud of five to two. As in a game of “oranges and lemons” Bess Shrewsbury, already backed by her sons Charles and William Cavendish, seems to have tugged not only her daughter Mary over to her side, but also Mary’s husband. He is no longer Gilbert the go-between, but the declared champion of his stepmother against his own father and his stepmother’s eldest son Henry Cavendish. Family affairs are certainly in a shockingly ungodly condition. William Cavendish is trying to screw his stepfather over a matter of £1800, and the quarrel between the Countess and Earl is so serious that the matter has passed into the hands of the Master of the Rolls and the Lord Chief Justice, who take opposite sides. The Countess has named her husband as “traytor” at Court, and he is resolved to go and exonerate himself. His secret malady is betrayed to Gilbert by a family servant named Steele, whose confidences can only help to complicate matters. He has long conversations with Queen Mary’s secretary, Curle, and seems to have access to all her retinue and to know the attitude of every member of the Earl’s household towards Gilbert. The only redeeming feature is the steadfast loyalty of Henry Cavendish—heir to a portion of the Rufford and Langeford estates—to his stepfather. Gilbert adroitly urges his own poverty and his wife’s “necessite,” but is sharply silenced. Shrewsbury is very jealous of his heir’s long absence at the hated Chatsworth, but at the same time promises to defray the fees of the physician attending Mary—the redoubtable Mary Talbot.

This lady is the true outcome of her mother. Bess Shrewsbury was accustomed to speak of her many building enterprises as her “workes.” One of her most pathetically characteristic “workes” was Mary Talbot. Later on in regard to Arabella Stuart’s career history shows how the mother’s intriguing match-making tactics repeated themselves in the daughter. For the moment it is her pertinacity, her love of possessions, her hot uncontrolled temper, and her vindictiveness which concern us.

Again we must anticipate by some years and include here as explanatory and pertinent an episode which displays the violence and bitterness of Mary Talbot’s nature.

Between the Stanhopes of Nottingham and the Cavendishes there was a deadly feud in the course of which blood was shed on both sides. In the height of this strife Mary Talbot (by that time Countess of Shrewsbury) sent the following deadly message to Sir Thomas Stanhope of Shelford. It was not written, but delivered by two messengers, and the message has come down to posterity in this form, as quoted in Johnson’s _Extracts from Norfolk Papers_:—

“My Lady hath commanded me to say this much to you. That though you be more wretched, vile, and miserable than any creature living; and, for your wickedness, become more ugly in shape than the vilest toad in the world; and one to whom none of reputation would vouchsafe to send any message; yet she hath thought good to send thus much to you—that she be contented you should live (and doth noways wish your death) but to this end—that all the plagues and miseries that may befall any man may light upon such a caitiff as you are; and that you should live to have all your friends forsake you; and without your great repentance, which she looketh not for, because your life hath been so bad, you will be damned perpetually in hell fire.” The chronicler goes on to say that the heralds added many other opprobrious and hateful words, which could not be remembered, because the bearer would deliver it but once, as he said he was commanded, but said if he had failed in anything, it was in speaking it more mildly and not in terms of such disdain as he was commanded.

It was this free-tongued, easily infuriated nature with which the Earl had to cope in addition to his wife’s excitability and financial ambitions, his son’s cry of “Give, give!” the suspicions of his Queen, the lies and slanders of his enemies, and the intrigues of his captivating captive. The wonder is that he could be even so generous, affectionate, and level-headed as the following letter shows; that he could forgive Gilbert, and laugh with my Lord of Rutland, who seems to have visited Shrewsbury solely to pour balm on his friend’s wounds and put him in a happier frame of mind, so that at Gilbert’s coming the difficulties of a business discussion about the disposal of Welbeck—at which place the Countess eventually established her son Charles Cavendish, and concerning which she appears to have had important financial transactions with her husband—was made easy. Owing to the guest’s _bonhomie_, father and son are placed on a footing which enables them to discuss things composedly, and Gilbert is informed of the false reports of his father’s attitude towards Mary Talbot.

_Gilbert and Mary Talbott to the Countess of Shrewsbury_ (1583).

“My bounden duty, duty, etc.—On Friday at night my L. sent to me to be with him the next morning early. I came to Worsop about 9 o’clock, and found the two earls together, but saw them not till dinner was on the table. After ordinary greeting at the board, my L. speaking of Welbeck, my L. of Rutland said he was sure my L. would pay for it, and ‘so,’ quoth he, ‘you promised me yesternight,’ which my L. denied; ‘but,’ said my L., ‘your L. was exceeding earnest with me so to do’; whereat they were both very merry; and he still was earnest with my L. therein, but he laughed it off. After dinner my L. called me to him in his chamber, and told me a long tale of the cause of his meeting with that Lord; the effect in substance was to continue friendship with him; and recited many reasons that he had to trust him better than any nobleman; and said that I had like cause to do so, both in respect of kindred, and that he loveth me exceeding well; and sware by God he was never more earnestly dealt with than he had been by him since his coming, for me; both to be good to me in present and hereafter; and bade me take knowledge thereof and give him thanks, and that in any case I should go to Newark to him. And before had ended all that it seemed he would have said, he was called away by the other being ready to go down to horse. So when I came out I briefly gave him thanks for what my L. had told me; and he wished he were able to do me any pleasure, desired me to come to Newark, and he would tell me more, and none living be better welcome; and so we parted. Then I rode some part of my L. way with him. He told me that the cause he would not have me carry my wife to London was, for that he thought your La. would go up to London, and then would my wife join with you in exclaiming against him, and so make him to judge the worse of me, with much to that effect. I alleged the necessity of my wife’s estate; how ill I could live here without any provisions; but he cut me off, saying he looked hourly for leave to go up, and after he had been there himself, I might carry her if I would, and if I did before, he could not think I loved him; and for her health, he said physicians might be sent for, though he bare the charges; and would not suffer me to speak a word more thereof, but bade me now do it if I would. Then he told me that Lewis being at Newark, Hercules Foliambe told him that he heard my L. had commanded me to put away my wife; and called Lewis, and he affirmed it, and so my L. willed me to charge Foliambe therewith and make him bring out his author. Then he told me that the matters were hard between your La. and him; that Sir W. M. and the Master of the Rolls were wholly on your side, and would have set down an order clean against him; but that the Lord Chief Justice would not thereto consent, but stuck to him as friendly as ever man did. He would honour and love him for it whilst he lived; and that the order was deferred till Thursday last; and that this last week he had found out and sent up all the pay books written by Ryc. Cooke, of all manner of conveyances whatsoever, whereby it appeared that Knifton and Cooke dealt the most treacherously with him that ever any men had done; but recited not wherein, saying that he hath not Hardwick and the West country lands without impeachment of waste, as he would be sworn his meaning was. Further that W. Cavendish he said was not ashamed to demand £1800 for [it] and made such a matter of it, as was never heard; whereof he spake so out of purpose, as it were in vain to write it. Then commended H. Cavendish exceedingly for maintaining his honour, which he said he should fare the better for; and told that divers noble men had of late answered for him very stoutly, especially the Earl of Cumberland. Then told that Bentall, hearing how evil he was spoken of at London, and for that your La. had called him traitor, he desired leave to go up, either to be cleared or condemned, and that he hath written by him to my L. Treasurer and my L. of Leicester that he might be thoroughly tried, and have as he had deserved. As for his knowledge of him, he wrote he had found him the truest and most faithful servant that he ever had. He said Bentall rather chose to go up of himself than to be sent for; and that he had been twice examined before my L. Treasurer and my L. of Leicester, and had sped well, and so would do he hoped. These are all the special points that I can remember he spoke of. I began many times to tell him my griefs, and to open my estate, but he would not suffer me to speak, but said he loved me best of all his children, and that I had never given him cause of offence but in tarrying so long at Chatsworth; which thing he also would not suffer me to answer, but said it was past, and he would not hear more thereof. When I was parted with my L. I met Style[70] with the stuff. The secret he told me of the estate of my L. body was that swelling which he said he thought none but himself did know, but when I told him where it was, he marvelled that I knew it. He told me that Bentall persuaded my L. that he was able to do him such service above as he never had done him, and to discover the secrets of all things, especially by his brother that serves my L. of Leicester; but Steele said he verily thought he should be laid up in prison. He said he talked with Curle all the day before he went, and all that morning, but I could get out no particular thing of him besides his continual familiarity with all the Scots. He said there is not any about my L. but Stringer but seeketh my undoing.

“I am in hope to meet Mr. Serjante Roods at Winkfield. Herein is enclosed a note for your La. to read. The remainder of Rufford and Langford is assuredly [rested] in my brother H. Cavendish, as the other lands that are unrevocable are.

“I desire to know whether your La. thinketh that her Majesty will be offended with my going to Newark to that Earl or not, considering what speeches she used to me of him. If it be not in that respect, I think it is very necessary I go thither, seeing that he hath used so good offices for me to my L. My L. said to one that my L. of Leicester was Bentall’s great friend. God prosper your La. in all things. We most humbly beseech your La. blessing to us all.

“G. TALBOTT. MARY TALBOTT.”

It is patent which way the wind blows, and how the Earl is regarded by his principal antagonists. There is open war; his words are repeated, his moves watched, and he is simply become a fine grape to be squeezed for their advantage.

Things were brewing to a head, and in 1584 Chatsworth, the beautiful, the detested of the Earl, was literally besieged by him. It must be recalled here that his wife had already divided her own two houses amongst her two elder sons. On Henry, as eldest Cavendish she had bestowed Chatsworth; on William, her best beloved, her own Hardwick. For Charles, her youngest, as instanced, she had other plans, namely, Welbeck. Now Henry had married the Earl’s daughter, Lady Grace. The quarrel naturally concentrated itself on Chatsworth, which, through Grace, was shared by the Talbot side of the family. The Earl refused to be done out of certain rights in this property. His lady, irritated by the fact that Henry was on the Earl’s side, bore down upon the house, dismantled it, and sent the greater part of the contents to Hardwick, while Charles and William Cavendish practically manned the empty building. Up rode the Earl with his gentlemen and servants to demand admittance, and was, according to his own statements,[71] resisted by William “with halberd in hand and pistol under his girdle.” The whole position was naturally rendered more and more painful by this undignified occurrence, and all parties concerned were foolishly guilty of wanton waste of a good summer’s day. Meanwhile the Countess was practically without a suitable house, since she could now share none of her husband’s lordly residences. Here follows a tragic and unforgettable letter from the Earl, almost alone, as it were with his back against a wall. He writes not to Burghley this time, but to Lord Leicester. Ostensibly the letter is one of condolence. Leicester’s son by Lettice Knollys died in babyhood in July of this year, at the time when the Earl and his retinue hammered at the doors of Chatsworth. It was open to Shrewsbury to requite his friend’s sanctimonious epistle, previously quoted, on the death of Francis Talbot by just such another. The soldier Earl, however, is of different stuff from the courtier. His heart cannot dissemble, and the occasion becomes an excuse for bitter confidences, elicited evidently by a letter from Leicester which informs him of the blow and makes kindly allusion, possibly admonitory, to Gilbert Talbot, who himself had lost an only son and heir.

“My good Lord,

“For that I perceive your Lordship takes God’s handiwork thankfully, and for the best, doubt not but God will increase you with many good children, which I wish with all my heart. And where it pleases you to put me in mind of Gilbert Talbot, as though I should remember his case by my own, truly, my Lord, they greatly vary. For my son, I never dissuaded him from loving his wife, though he hath said he must either forsake me, or hate his wife, this he gives out, which is false and untrue. This I think is his duty; that, seeing I have forbad him for coming to my wicked and malicious wife, who hath set me at naught in his own hearing, that contrary to my commandment, hath both gone and sent unto her daily by his wife’s persuasion, yea and hath both written and carried letters to no mean personages in my wife’s behalf. These ill dealings would he have salved by indirect reports, for in my life did I never seek their separation; for the best ways I have to content myself is to think it is his wife’s wicked persuasion and her mother’s together, for I think neither barrel better herring of them both. This my misliking to them both argues not that I would have my son make so hard a construction of me that I would have him hate his wife, though I do detest her mother. But to be plain, he shall either leave his indirect dealings with my wife, seeing I take her as my professed enemy, or else indeed will I do that to him I would be loth, seeing I have heretofore loved him so well; for he is the principal means and countenance she has, as he uses the matter, which is unfit; yet will I not be so unnatural in deeds as he reports in words, which is that I should put from him the principal things belonging to the Earldom. He hath been a costly child to me, which I think well bestowed if he come here again in time. He takes the way to spoil himself with having his wife at London; therefore if you love him, persuade him to come down with his wife and settle himself in the country; for otherwise, during his abode with his wife at London, I will take the £200 I give him yearly besides alienating my good will from him, ... If he allege it be her Majesty’s pleasure to command him to wait, let his wife come home, as more fit it is for her.

“The assurance of your Lordship’s faithful friendship towards me hath, by so many years’ growth, taken so deep root as it cannot now fade nor decay, neither any new friendship take my faithful goodwill away, as time and occasion shall try; and so hoping your Lordship will be satisfied without further doubt or scruple therein, I commend your Lordship to the discretion of the Almighty.”

This letter is not signed by Shrewsbury, but simply endorsed: “The copy of my letter of 8th Aug., 1584,” which fixes the date.

That the dignified George Talbot should stoop to such a slang expression as “neither barrel better herring” in regard to his once adored and brilliant Countess shows the complete wreckage of all their joy, their high comradeship, their mutual reverence.

Into the same confessional, the ear of the astute Treasurer, Bess Shrewsbury poured out her side, writing from Hardwick on August 2nd: her husband was using her very hardly, he sought to take Chatsworth from her, he had induced her son Henry to deal most unnaturally with her, wherefore she hoped that Burghley would remonstrate, as his letters would do more with the Earl than those of any other living person, etc. etc. A little over a fortnight after, the Earl, who had already given his version of the Chatsworth affair, placed details of the “insolent behaviour” of William Cavendish before the Privy Council. The State Papers show that the Council took prompt action here, but to their reply informing the Earl of the committal of William to prison, and expressing their opinion that it was not meet that a man of his mean quality should use himself in a contemptuous sort against one of his Lordship’s station and quality, they add a clause stating that the Queen desired that “he should suffer the Cavendishes to enjoy their own lands unmolested.”

To all this quarrel over possessions, which reads for all the world like a prolonged act out of a new version of the ancient drama _All-for-Money_, was added the distasteful business of the now flourishing scandal about Queen Mary and the Earl. Doubtless his wife and stepsons were ready to bite out their tongues by the time the scandal they apparently fostered of his intimacy with Mary of Scots was generally known. Though their nerves were less sensitive they could not but see that the affair was passing beyond their control and that only harm could ensue. The time was approaching when they must be publicly called to account. Meanwhile lesser persons were already being interrogated. The actual details of the slander are located in the extract from a letter in diary[72] form written by the Recorder of London, William Fletewood, to Lord Burghley:—

“Thursdaie,[73] the next daie after, we kept the generall sessions at Westminster Hall for Middlesex. Surelie it was very great! We satt the whole daie and the next after also at Fynsburie. At this sessions one Cople and one Baldwen my Lord of Shrewsburie’s gent. required me that they might be suffered to indict one Walmesley of Islyngton an Inn-holder for scandilation of my Lord their master. They shewed me two papers. The first was under the clerk of the council’s hand of my Lord’s purgation, in the which your good Lordship’s speeches are specially set downn. The second paper was the examinations of divers witnesses taken by Mr. Harris; the effect of all which was that Walmesley should tell his guests openlie at the table that the Erle of Shrowsbury had gotten the Scottish Quene with child, and that he knew where the child was christened, and it was alleged that he should further adde that my Lord should never go home agayne, with lyke wordes, etc. An indictement was then drawne by the clerk of the peace the which I thought not good to have published, or[74] that the evidence should be given openlie, and therefore I caused the jurie to go to a chamber, where I was, and heard the evidence given, amongst whom one Merideth Hammer, a doctor of divinitie and Vicar of Islyngton was a witnes, who had dealt as lewdlie towards my Lord in speeches as did the other, viz. Walmeslye. This doctor regardeth not an oathe. Surelie he is a very bad man: but in the end the indictement was indorsed Billa Vera.”

Of course this true bill was satisfactory in one sense. At the same time mud sticks, and the publicity of such a case always helps to arouse wider interest in the possible rumours. Both Queen Mary and the Earl were rampant and eager for a proper official enquiry. She even sent a message to Elizabeth on the subject when in committee with an emissary of the Queen in regard to other matters. This talk was duly noted down and is included among the Marian MSS.:—

“She thanked her Majesty for the promise to punish the authors of the slanders against her; Toplif [Topcliff] was one, and Charles Candish another; the Countess of Shrewsbury did not bear her that goodwill which the Queen supposed, ‘who with her divers times laughed at such reports, and now did accuse her. It touched his Lordship as well as her, wherefore she trusted as a nobleman he would regard his house.’ She wished this to be signified to the Lord Treasurer, Leicester, and Walsingham, desiring their favour in this suit.”

It is interesting and piquant to find that Mary’s suspicions should alight upon that egregious Papist-baiter Topcliffe, but this pompous gentleman does not appear to have been successfully impugned in this case. Otherwise Mary eventually had her will. The Earl at last succeeded in obtaining permission to go to Court to clear himself, and to relinquish finally his heavy duty. Indeed, he was soon formally delivered from his charge, but the change of officers did not take place immediately. Some time elapsed before formalities and details were carried through, and he and his prisoner paid in July, 1584, their last visit in company to Buxton. There Mary wrote her famous Latin couplet with a diamond on a window-pane:—

Buxtona quae calidae celebraris nomine Lymphae, Forte mihi post hac non adennda, Vale.

The permission for which the Earl longed came in August, and his successor was Sir Ralph Sadler, who has previously figured in this record. It was not an easy transfer. The poor Earl’s departure was complicated by the business of transferring his prisoner to Wingfield Manor from Sheffield. There were delay and trouble, so that the cavalcade did not leave till early in September, and it was not till the 7th of that month, after fifteen years of hard service, that he was a free man.