The Lion Triumphant (41 page)

This seemed to meet with her approval and we shelved the matter.

It must have been about a month later when I made a discovery which rendered the plan impossible.

Jennet, whose duty it was to bring water to my bedroom, did not appear and I went to the servants’ room. There was only one maid there. All the others were about their duties.

“Where is Jennet?” I said.

The girl looked scared.

“I don’t know, Mistress.”

“Did she get up at her usual time?”

The girl looked embarrassed. It took me some time to get the truth from her, which was that Jennet rarely slept in the servants’ room. She was almost always with a lover. This was no surprise to me. I knew that one of the grooms was her lover, and she would always have her lovers.

I guessed she was in one of the rooms over the stables and had no intention of going there. I would severely reprimand her when I saw her. Perhaps I would send her to my mother, but she would want to take Jacko with her and Jake would never allow that. He was fond of Jacko. So I could not separate a mother from her son.

Some mischievous quirk of fate led me to the tutor’s room. I had for some time wanted to have a word with him about Roberto. I knocked lightly on his door. There was no answer, so I went in. The sun was shining full on the crumpled pallet, and fast asleep lay Jennet and Mr. Merrimet, naked and clasped in each other’s arms.

I said sharply: “Mr. Merrimet! Jennet!”

He opened his eyes first and then I heard Jennet gasp.

I said quickly: “I will speak to you later,” and shut the door.

The result was that I dismissed Mr. Merrimet immediately. I thought that a man who could indulge so blatantly in sexual adventure with one of the maids was no fit tutor for the boys. I had suspected him of a certain amount of levity but not to an unseemly extent; and I had been of the opinion that marriage would have a sobering effect on him. How mistaken I had been! Now I imagined his initiating the boys into certain practices at a too early age and I did not hesitate.

He left the next day. I sent for Jennet, who was her usual coy self—like a girl caught in her first indiscretion.

She had the usual reply that “’twere all natural-like and Mr. Merrimet being such a gentleman…”

I told her she was a slut; she was a disgrace; and I was thinking of sending her to my mother, and should do so did I not have such concern for my mother and her household. She must mend her ways or she would find herself on the roads yet begging her bread.

“There’s Jacko,” she told me slyly.

“He shall go with you.”

“Oh, Mistress, the Captain be mortal fond of Jacko. You’d have to answer to him for that.”

“I answer to no one,” I cried. “I manage my own household.”

She was silent, remembering that the Captain was away and that I was not to be lightly flouted. She wept and said that there was some wickedness in her that would not let her deny comely gentlemen and she thought there had been little harm done and she would serve me true and faithful forevermore.

I was fond of Jennet, so I contented myself with getting rid of Mr. Merrimet and engaging a new tutor for the boys. This was Robert Elmore, a gentleman of Plymouth who was a scholar fallen on evil times and glad to have a home. He was middle-aged and of great seriousness. I felt I had made a good change.

Linnet flourished. She was a contented baby with great wondering eyes and a ready chuckle.

Everyone in the household adored her, particularly Romilly, who was a great help with the children.

I was disturbed at the behavior of Mr. Merrimet and I wondered what effect this would have on the girl who had such a short time ago implied that she would be ready to marry him. There was a change in her, I fancied. It must have been a blow to discover that the man who may well have made advances to her had at the same time been spending his nights with such a practiced slut as Jennet.

At first she did not appear to be greatly upset, and then suddenly I knew that something was wrong and immediately suspected that her relationship with Merrimet had not been an innocent one; indeed, was it possible that it could have been with such a man?

It was some three months after the departure of the tutor when I tackled her with this. She burst into tears and told me that she was pregnant.

I cried: “What a rogue that man is! All very well for him to take Jennet to his bed. She is as practiced as a woman can be in such matters and I doubt not has had a hundred before him. But an innocent young girl … under the protection of myself and the Captain! He is a rogue and a villain.”

She went on sobbing.

I said: “You should have told me before.”

“I daren’t,” she said. “What can I do now?”

“You can do nothing. I can’t find a husband for you now. You will just bear your shame and the child.” I was sorry for her, so I put my arm about her. “You have been a foolish girl, Romilly. You have listened to promises no doubt, and now this has happened to you.”

She nodded.

“But it is not the first time it has happened to a girl. You are fortunate, for the Captain admired your father and wished to repay him for his services. You shall have your child here and it will be part of our household. Now don’t fret. It’s bad for the child. You did wrong and must needs bear the consequences. It is the fate of women. The man plants his seed blithely and departs. It is happening all over England … all over the world.”

I was sorry for the girl. She was so young; and so very grateful to me for the attitude I had taken. But she was an adaptable creature and in a very short time she had forgotten her unhappiness. She settled down to making garments for her baby and helping with mending the boys’ clothes, for she was good with her needle.

In June her child was born. I had sent for the midwife who had attended me, so she had the best attention we could give her. She had a son—a healthy, lusty boy.

I went in to see her—she looked so young and frail and her green eyes shone more brilliantly than ever.

She thanked me affectingly for my goodness to her and I stooped over the bed and kissed her.

“A woman’s lot can be a hard one in this life,” I said, “and it is our duty to help each other.”

“He is a bonny boy, my son,” she said.

“The midwife praises him continually.”

“I have so much to be grateful for. What would have happened to me if the Captain had not come to St. Austell and brought me here?”

“He was concerned, for your father had died in his service.”

“I want to show my gratitude to him … and to you. Would you allow me to call my child Penn?”

I said: “That is a small favor to ask.”

So Romilly’s lovely little boy was christened.

I
T HAD BEEN A
year of exciting events. In January the Duke of Norfolk was brought to trial. He had been intriguing with the Scottish Queen and had hoped to marry her and set her on the throne after having deposed Elizabeth. He had little chance of survival if such were proved against him.

In May there had been a rumor of another plot, in which the Spanish ambassador was concerned, to kill the Queen and her minister Burleigh. As a result the Spanish ambassador was ordered to leave the kingdom.

An even greater animosity was growing toward the Spanish. In the last years, when more and more English seamen had been traveling the world, again and again they had come into conflict with the Spanish. Often the English had captured Spanish gold and brought it into English harbors; a fact which delighted the Queen while she made a feint of keeping up friendly relations with Philip of Spain and implying that the action of English pirates was something she deplored but which it was hard to correct. On the other hand, the Spanish had their successes. There were stories of how English sailors taken by Spaniards were shipped into Spain, imprisoned and tortured—not because they were pirates but because they were Protestants—and some were even burned alive at the stake.

John Gregory recounted the horrors of his imprisonment and how he had only escaped death because he had acted as a spy for Don Felipe.

The Duke of Norfolk went to the block that June and at the same time a new star appeared in the sky. As a sailor Jake was knowledgeable about the stars and he took Carlos and Jacko up to the highest part of the house and there pointed out the star to them. It was brighter than the planet Jupiter and could be seen in Cassiopeia’s chair.

People began to speculate about the star. It was an omen. When it appeared suddenly the theory was that it signified Spain, which had grown in might and had conquered so much of the world. That it disappeared while the well-known stars and planets remained was an indication that the Spanish empire was about to disintegrate.

On August 24 of that year, the Eve of St. Bartholomew, there occurred an event which shocked the whole world, and I could not believe it was only the Protestant world. I was sure that what happened in Paris—and was to follow throughout France—would have as deeply affronted Felipe and men such as he was.

In the early hours of the morning the tocsins had sounded all over Paris and this had been a sign for the Catholics to emerge and slaughter every Huguenot to be found. The slaughter was horrific. The streets of Paris were running with blood; the Seine was full of mutilated bodies and the slaughter continued. The great Massacre of St. Bartholomew had begun and the cry of “kill” was taken up throughout the provincial towns of France.

The effect of the massacre reverberated throughout England. In Plymouth people stood about on street corners discussing what would happen next. A rumor was in circulation that the French and Spanish were in league together with the Pope, and they planned to murder Protestants throughout the world as they had in France.

Many were saying that it was time we gave the Catholics in this country some of the medicine they meted out to others. “Let’s give them a little Paris justice,” they cried.

We heard that Lord Burleigh, who had been in the country, had hurried back to London. He feared chaos in the Capital and that there would be a repetition of the massacre in London—though in reverse. There it would be the Protestants taking their revenge on Catholics. The Queen appeared in public dressed in mourning and Lord Burleigh said, “This is the greatest crime since the Crucifixion.”

There was no doubt of the effect this terrible event must have on our lives. Such momentous happenings stirred the world and none of us could ignore the rumblings of impending tragedies.

Anger against the Catholics was increased. I knew that they would be hunted out with greater severity in Protestant lands, and in those which were manifestly Catholic the persecution would intensify. Increasing numbers would be taken to the torture chambers of the Inquisition; there would be more agonizing cries as the flames consumed the bodies of martyrs.

Jake came home the following year. His homecoming was similar to the last. There was feasting and we had the mummers in to entertain us.

He took scarcely any notice of Linnet although she was a beautiful child and amazingly like him; he was amused by Romilly’s fall from grace and showed a little interest in the boy. He was pleased to see Carlos and Jacko, though; and he was patient with them when they plied him with questions about his voyage. He would sit in the garden while they sprawled at his feet looking up at him admiringly, while he told them of his exploits on the high seas.

If Jake could have had a legitimate son he would have been a proud and happy man; as it was he was often brooding and resentful. I would often notice him as he glared at Roberto and his anger that I could have a son by Felipe and not by him infuriated him to such an extent that sometimes I felt he hated me.

It was after his return from his next voyage that the first of the strange events took place.

I had always followed the practice of visiting the poor of our neighborhood personally. Some women in my position would send their servants with nourishing things to eat and warm clothing, but my mother had always gone herself and I had often accompanied her. She had said that we wanted these people not to look upon the gifts we bestowed as charity but those of one friend to another.

One morning when I was about to go into the garden one of the maids came to me and told me that Mary Lee had asked specially that I should visit her.

She was an old woman who had had three sons, all of whom had been lost at sea. I used to visit her regularly. Jake was pleased about this, for he always liked the families of sailors to be cared for. Mary was in her sixties, crippled with rheumatism; she used to sit at her window and look out when she was expecting me.

I gathered together some food into a basket and set out that afternoon, but when I reached her cottage I was surprised that she was not at the window waiting for me.

Her cottage was one of those which had been built in a night, for it was custom here that if any could put up a cottage in a night the land on which it stood could be counted as theirs. It consisted of one room only.

The door was ajar. I pushed it open and said: “Mary. Are you there?”

I saw her then. She was lying on a pallet. The light was so dim that I did not at first see her face.

“Mary, are you all right?”

She spoke in gasps.

“Go, Mistress,” she whispered.

I went forward. I knelt beside her. “What is wrong, Mary?”

“Go. Go. ’Tis the sweat.”

I looked down at her. I could see now the fearful signs on her face.

I put down the basket and hurried out of the house.

I saw Jake in the courtyard. I wondered afterward if he was waiting for me.

I said: “I have been to Mary Lee’s cottage. She has the sweat.”

“God’s Death!” he cried. “You have been in the cottage?”

“Yes.”

“Go to your room. I’ll call a doctor. You may have caught it. He can see too if anything can be done for Mary Lee.”

I went up to my room and I kept thinking of that other occasion when I had pretended to have this fearsome disease to keep Jake away.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I had been close to Mary Lee. The disease was highly infectious. Perhaps already by now…