DOUBT, FEAR, AND SECRECY
"Oh, sweet Margaret! oh, rare pale Margaret!
What lit your eyes with tearful power,
Like moonlight on a falling shower?"--TENNYSON.
Since the day when the English prisoners were presented to James IV.
at Leith, Euphemia and her sister Sybilla had no opportunity of
meeting, or even seeing Barton, or Falconer. They were kept in
strict seclusion at their father's mansion in Dundee, while their
lovers were compelled to remain as much as possible on board their
ships, owing to the dangers that menaced them ashore; for the
unscrupulous emissaries of Drummond, Home, and the new-made Earl of
Bothwell, were ever on the watch for them; moreover, their presence
was constantly required during the refitting consequent to the late
engagement and the projected voyage to Brest.
These repairs were conducted at the New Haven above Leith, where the
king's dockyards were then established.
James IV., about 1512, had no less than forty-six ships of war built
here and elsewhere; one of these, the _Great Michael_, was the
largest vessel in the known world; she carried a thousand men, was
two hundred and forty feet long, and cost £40,000--an enormous sum in
those days. For the accommodation of the workmen, at Sir Andrew
Wood's suggestion, he built a chapel dedicated to Our Lady and St.
James, the eastern window and gable of which are yet remaining in the
Vennel of New Haven. If Scotland, in 1512, could equip such a fleet,
before the value of her vast iron mines, her forests of fir and oak,
and the convenience of her deep bays and salt lakes were known, what
a noble armament could she now launch upon the waters of the Tay and
Clyde!
Margaret Drummond, though happy in her restoration to her royal
husband (who was making every requisite preparation for espousing her
publicly on his coronation day, after the arrival of the papal
dispensation), never mentioned that her sisters had lovers of more
humble pretensions, who were known only to their own family circle.
Her father had laid her and them under the most stern injunctions of
secrecy, and thus the young king believed that his two beautiful
sisters-in-law were the affianced brides of Home and Bothwell; and
though he had no great admiration for the characters of those
turbulent and unlettered lords, he had no desire to excite dissension
anew by seeking other spouses for Euphemia and Sybilla.
Thus overawed by their parent, the sisters locked the secret in their
own breasts, and were miserable; for this old, habitual terror of
their father was mingled with the love and respect which were due to
him, and united to a long foreknowledge of his unbounded pride, his
imperious spirit, his calculating ambition, and his haughty will,
which had never, since the hour of his birth, been thwarted, and
which made him follow to the death any man who dared to mar, in the
most trifling manner, the plots he wove and the plans he laid for the
aggrandizement of himself and his family.
Confident in the young king's chivalric and generous character,
Barton and Falconer, with the natural bluntness of their profession,
would at once have sought an interview, told their story, and claimed
his patronage and protection; but the king was at Stirling one day,
at Falkland the next, at Dundee the third, and thus no proper
opportunity was afforded to them; the ships were soon reported as
ready for sea; De Concressault came on board, with all his train,
under three salvoes of cannon, as ambassador of France; and the
_Yellow Frigate_ and the _Flower_ got under way; and the reader may
easily conceive the emotions of Barton and Falconer when sailing on
this expedition, and leaving their loves behind them while so many
evil influences combined to cast a shadow on their hopes.
Indeed, both sailed with the most firm and melancholy conviction
that, long before their return, either by fear, coercion, or despair,
or by all three combined, Euphemia would be Lady Home, and Sybilla
Countess of Bothwell.
Their growing sadness and their many communings could not escape the
quick eyes of the old Admiral, who had been closely observing them,
one day in particular, as he was taking an observation with the
cross-staff, during a bright sunshine that equally favoured the
operations of Father Zuill, who was hard at work levelling his
lenses, mirrors, and parabolic speculum against the sails of a
fisher-boat, which he was vainly endeavouring to ignite, an
experiment which, if successful, would no doubt have excited
considerable surprise and consternation in the mind of the
unconscious proprietor thereof. The kind Admiral, who knew well the
secrets of the two friends, endeavoured to reassure them, and laugh
their fears away.
"Alas, Admiral," said Falconer, "I never can forget that all my
fortune is in my scabbard; that my prospects of success at home are
now more dim and distant since the late king's death, and how can I
hope to be the brother-in-law of his son? Oh, it is all vanity and
madness in me--this passion for Lord Drummond's daughter! Yet I know
that Sybilla loves me; thus I cannot abandon her while life remains,
otherwise, I would not return with you from France, but would enlist
in the Scottish archers, or offer my sword to Robert of Patulloch, or
the Mareschal de Concressault, and seek fortune in the wars of
Charles VIII. These nobles at home will prove too strong for us in
the end, Barton!"
"In their eyes no deed, however brave, can gild a humble birth; and
no shame is so deep as a lowly name!" said Barton.
"Well, and is not this a wisdom in the titled blockheads, after all,"
said the Admiral; "for they know that, in respecting high birth and
sounding titles, they are but paying a compliment to themselves and
enhancing their own value."
"To conceive it possible that my gentle Sybilla may be _forced_--yea,
in free Scotland, forced like a Danish serf, to marry a man who
cannot appreciate her goodness and excellence."
"There is no man so low in the scale of humanity--not even among the
rebel lords," said Barton.
"Poor Sybilla--how I love her!"
"This were vast presumption in Strathearn, Davie," said the Admiral;
"but here, on the deck of the _Yellow Frigate_, is only natural and
just,--a great lord's daughter though she be. But tush, man! is this
the way for a stout fellow to pule and sadden like a pitiful
scaramouche? If these damosels wed in your absence, my lads,
remember there are gude fish in the salt sea, as ever came out of it;
a rusty anchor and a rotten cable are not worth the upheaval; and so,
gadzooks! if they miss stays and get stranded in your absence, let
them e'en go, with God's blessing, and bear ye away for a fairer
haven and more seaworthy consorts."
Consolation of this kind was about as good as none; but time wore
on--day succeeded day. After passing the straits of Dover without
seeing any sign of a hostile English fleet, which rumour said was
preparing to intercept them, and after running down the English
Channel, the two Scottish caravels doubled the point then named by
the French the _End of the World_, as no land was known to the
westward of it, and arrived in safety at Brest in Brittany.
This, though one of the best harbours in Europe, was then but a small
seaport or village, dependent on the town of Sainte Renan.
After exchanging salutes with the Castle of Brest, and being royally
feasted by the abbot and monks of its rich Benedictine abbey, the
Scottish admiral bade adieu to the Sieur de Concressault (who began
his journey to court), and again put to sea.
Passing between the Isle of Ushant and the mainland, he bore away for
Sluys, on another mission from the court of Scotland to the Flemings,
concerning that commercial dispute, which, natheless the casks of
Dutch heads, pickled by Andrew Barton, it was believed no man in
Scotland was better able to adjust than Sir Andrew Wood of Largo.