THE COMING OF ELIZABETH
The days that followed were full of bustle and activity. The officers of
the household scoured the country far and near to secure provisions and
delicacies sufficient for the queen and her retinue. Game, droves of
bullocks, sheep, hogs and great hampers of groceries filled the larders
to overflowing. Near and remote neighbors and kinsmen embraced the
opportunity to send contributions. No man knew when his own time might
come and sympathized accordingly. The queen was not tolerant of any but a
royal reception, and a visit, while an honor, was not always an unmixed
blessing; as many an impoverished nobleman could testify.
Hugh Greville, the tutor, was overjoyed at her coming, and, as master of
the pageants preparing for the amusement of the queen, assumed a pompous
importance greatly at variance with his usual manner.
"We must have a play, my lord," he said to Lord Stafford who was for the
moment idle. "Her Majesty doth take delight in a play. This to be
preceded by an address in Latin. Latin, my lord, because the queen is
learned, and deference should be paid to her knowledge. The welcome to be
spoken by a boy."
"Have what thou wilt, Greville, so that it will please the queen,"
returned the nobleman. "I had word from my Lord of Leicester this morning
that his mummers accompanied Elizabeth in her progress. They will give
the play with more of satisfaction, I trow, than any of the strolling
players who have come hither. The address of welcome could be managed,
but what boy couldst thou get to deliver it? Boys there be in plenty, but
boys with Latinity----" and he shrugged his shoulders.
"Had your lordship only a son," sighed Greville regretfully, "it would be
right fitting for him to give the speech. I myself would write it.
'Twould only need to be conned well. Ah, would that thou hadst a son!"
"Gramercy!" spoke Francis overhearing the tutor's speech. "Hath he not a
daughter? I will give thy harangue, Master Greville."
"Nay;" and the old man shook his head positively. "'Twill not do,
Francis. The Queen's Majesty would relish it more if 'twere spoken by a
lad. Her heart inclineth to them. A pretty lad, for she loves beauty.
Marry! 'tis pity thou art a girl!"
"Father," Francis spoke quickly, a roguish light coming into her eyes, "I
could put on the page's dress again, and who would be the wiser? Not the
queen, I trow, for she doth not know whether or no thou hast a son."
"If it might be," said Greville eagerly. "The girl is brighter than most
lads, and could quickly con the speech. What say you, my lord?"
"Let the child have her way in this, my lord," spoke Lady Stafford
joining them. "Did she not don the garb to please thee? Now that it be
for her pleasure deny her not, I entreat."
"When thou pleadest for her, madam, I cannot deny," said her husband
slowly. "I thought never to see thee in such dress again, Francis. There
seemed necessity for it before. Now----"
"Now there is necessity also," broke in Francis. "Shall the queen go
without her welcome for the want of a boy? I trow not, when Francis
Stafford makes so good an one. Fear not, my father. I have become so
accustomed to the dress that each day do I don it. And 'tis but sport."
"Have thine own way," said Lord Stafford resignedly. "Do but honor the
queen, and I will not inquire too closely concerning the manner."
Pleased at receiving the permission, Francis applied herself to
memorizing the speech prepared by the tutor while the other preparations
went on royally. Elizabeth was to arrive in the afternoon, and on the
morning of that day her master of horse, the Earl of Leicester, with his
stepson, the Earl of Essex, came to see that everything was in readiness.
Then in company with Lord Stafford they went forth to escort the queen to
the Hall.
A great concourse of people stood without the gates. Lord Stafford's
retainers were drawn up on either side of the base court ready to shout
a welcome so soon as the queen appeared. At the top of the stairs leading
to the terrace stood Francis arrayed in doublet and hose of purple
velvet. A short cloak of the material hung gracefully from her shoulders.
A purple velvet bonnet with a long white feather crowned her head. Her
curls were blown about her cheeks by the breeze; her color was coming and
going for she was somewhat dismayed at the magnitude of the task she had
set herself. Stories that she had heard of the great queen's anger at
those who failed to perform well their parts rushed to her mind and
almost overwhelmed her with confusion.
"Courage," whispered Greville who stood near her. "Courage, girl.
Remember who thou art, and whom thou art to welcome. Do thy father
credit, else I will repent me of having intrusted so important a duty to
thee."
"I will, good cousin," returned Francis her spirit rising at his words.
"Not even the presence of the queen shall make me forget what is due my
father. But hark!"
A blare of trumpets sounded without the gates. The bell in the tower,
used only upon great occasions, pealed forth merrily. The musicians
stationed in court, terrace, and hall struck up, and viols, sackbuts,
cornets and recorders sounded, while from the retainers and people who
thronged the roads and the court there went up a great shout of
acclamation as a glittering cavalcade appeared.
The dresses of the courtiers were a blaze of splendor remarkable even in
that imaginative age. First rode the Earl of Leicester, magnificent in
black satin, his horse richly caparisoned with embroidered furnishings.
On the right of the queen was the Earl of Essex resplendent in cloth of
silver. Upon her left, rode Sir Walter Raleigh gorgeous in white satin
raiment. Back of them came the ladies of the court, maids of honor, and
the gentlemen. In the midst of all these was the one upon whom all eyes
were bent--Elizabeth. She was attired in white silk bordered with pearls
the size of beans, and over it a mantle of black silk shot with silver
threads. Instead of a chain she had an oblong collar of gold and jewels.
Her air was stately, and as she passed along in great state and
magnificence, she bowed graciously first to one side and then to the
other. Wherever she turned her face the people fell upon their knees,
crying,--"God save the queen, Elizabeth!" To which she replied,--"I thank
you, my good people."
At the foot of the terrace she alighted from her chariot, and, escorted
by Lord Stafford, ascended the steps and approached the place where
Francis stood. The girl gazed at her earnestly, mentally contrasting her
with Mary of Scotland.
Elizabeth was very stately though her stature was not great; her face,
oblong, fair but wrinkled; her eyes small, yet black and pleasant; her
nose a little hooked; her lips narrow and compressed; her teeth black as
were most of the ladies' teeth at that period from the excessive use of
sugar. She wore a wig of false red hair; and upon her head sat a small
crown of gold reported to be made of some of the celebrated Lunebourg
table. When she reached the terrace two cannons were shot off; the one
filled with a sweet powder; the other with sweet water, odoriferous and
pleasant; the firing being imitated by a crash of instruments. When the
noise of these had died away Francis stepped forward, and began timidly,
gaining self-possession as she proceeded:
"Oh Excellent Queen! true adamant of hearts,
Out of that sacred garland ever grew
Garlands of virtues, beauties, and perfections,
That crowns your crown, and dims your fortune's beams,
Welcome, and thrice welcome!
"O lady, that doth ennoble the title you possess, with the honor of your
worthiness, rather crowning the great crown that derives fame from having
so excellent an owner, than you receiving to yourself any ornament
therefrom; vouchsafe with patient attention to hear the words which I, by
commandment, am here to deliver unto you. Disdain not to smile upon our
feeble efforts to entertain you, yet do I dare warrant myself so far upon
the show of rare beauty, as that malice cannot fall from so fair a mind.
Welcome! This hall and all it contains are yours. Do with them as you
list, fair queen, but oh, disdain not to breathe your favor upon us.
Welcome and thrice welcome to these portals! Loving hearts greet you,
and declare you queen of them as well as of Love and Beauty."
Elizabeth listened smilingly, and as the girl concluded she passed her
hand over her auburn curls saying affably:
"Well done, thou pretty lad! I like well the spirit as well as the
delivery of it. Thy Latinity holds much to be commended. And what may be
thy name?"
"Francis Stafford, may it please Your Grace."
"It does please me. Francis? Ah, well do I ken that was the name of thy
father, my lord," and she turned to Lord Stafford.
"You speak aright, Your Highness," answered he.
"Thou shalt come to me anon, thou pretty lad, for I would speak with thee
further," said the queen as she moved away. "Hast thou other children, my
lord?"
"This is mine only one," replied Lord Stafford.
"And was the welcome of your composing?" queried she.
"Nay; I am not so ready with the pen," laughed Stafford. "I am not a
Sidney, my liege. Greville did it. Dost remember him?"
"Assuredly. Where is he? Ah, Greville," as the tutor overwhelmed with
rapture at her notice, threw himself on his knees before her, and seizing
the hand which she graciously extended to him, covered it with kisses.
"Art well?"
"Ah, madam, madam," murmured the old man, "can you ask that when it hath
been so long since I have been in your presence? As well expect the
flower to flourish without the rays of the sun."
"There, flatterer," said the queen tapping him lightly on the shoulder to
Francis' amazement for she expected her to take no notice of such
adulation. "Thou must come to the court oftener, Greville."
Greville arose as she passed on, his face aglow with gratification.
"Child, is she not the most gracious, the most lovely of sovereigns?" he
whispered to Francis.
"Gracious, I grant thee, cousin; but lovely, no. My mother is fairer by
far than she."
"Hark ye, lad," said a courtier who had overheard the girl's words, "a
hint in thine ear: repeat not that speech. Nay; think it not even. It
behooves thee, and me, and all of us to believe that the queen is the
loveliest, the fairest, and the most learned of all women, bar none;
which she is. God bless her!"
"God bless Elizabeth," echoed Greville fervently, but Francis, with a
haughty look at the speaker, turned upon her heel, and entered the hall.