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_:—
[Illustration:
_Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, from the picture at Hardwick
Hall
By permission of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire_
MARY CAVENDISH, COUNTESS OF SHREWSBURY
Page 252
]
“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.
[Illustration:
_Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby_
HARDWICK HALL, SHOWING ENTRANCE GATEWAY
Page 258
]
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.