In which Blackie witnesses the signing of an important treaty and races Queenie—on horseback. Enjoy! And thanks for reading.
June/July 1560
Negotiations with the Scots were progressing well. Their objection to the presence of the English army in their country was easily answered: England was there because they objected to the presence of the French in Scotland, from whence, as all sides knew, they would have a base to invade England. And really, the French weren't such a blessing to Scotland. For many, the only benefit in letting the French occupy their country was the added military might. They reasoned that with the combined forces of the Scots and French armies, England could not only be kept at bay, but invaded and conquered. Or at least, beaten so badly they would stay on their side of the border for a very long time.
Unfortunately, that wasn't how it fell out. The presence of the French intimidated the English, who then came into Scotland in huge numbers and not for the scenery, either. The French were behaving no better than the English—worse, in fact—strutting about as if they already owned the place (which they would if Scotland didn't get wise), turning their noses up at what they deemed crude social habits and bad food. The Scots, who had been getting by just fine on their social habits and food, found the French overbearing and condescending. And the way they spoke English (they didn't have the Scots), only half of what they said could be understood. So now the Scots had two occupying armies in their country, and there really wasn't room or patience for the lot of them.
A treaty had been worked out, and the Lords of Scotland had agreed to bring Mary and meet with Elizabeth at Fotheringhay to read and sign it. The terms were that all French and English troops had to leave Scotland, and that Mary would give up her claim to the English throne. This seemed to please almost everyone: The Scots could have their country back, the English wouldn't have to worry about the French invading from the north, and the French could go back home to their sissified manners and haute cuisine.
The Queen set out for Fotheringhay with only a very small entourage—Nursie, Lord Melchett, her private physician Sir Roger Marbeck, a few maidens of honor, a dozen guards, and since Robert Dudley could not go, Lord Blackadder.
It was a sight to see. Besides the guards there were a dozen outriders who preceded and followed the caravan. Several rode ahead out of sight to make sure the way was cleared for the Queen's carriage and wagons, half a dozen rode around the caravan in a large circle, and the last three followed behind at a distance. The guards rode three abreast before and after the Queen's carriage, and three to each side. After the Queen's carriage, in which rode Elizabeth, Marbeck, and Nursie with the maidens of honor, came the carriage in which rode Lords Melchett and Blackadder, as well as a chamber valet for Melchett and that mysterious bit of humanity known as Baldrick, for Blackadder.
It was expected that wherever the Queen's entourage stopped, all needs would be met. Most of the time they traveled from one royal residence to another, but not all of them were really habitable. Upon her accession Elizabeth had inherited over sixty royal residences, but some were in such disrepair they were allowed to collapse in on themselves, and because she could not afford to maintain the rest she gave away quite a few to courtiers and other officials. Robert Dudley had been blessed with some wonderful pieces of property, including Kenilworth Castle in Warwickshire.
They arrived at Fotheringhay Castle the second day, and Blackadder looked on the outlying area with old affection. The land all around had been cleared for farming, much as it had been when Blackadder had visited as a young man, before the Battle of Bosworth field, before he killed the man he then knew as his great-uncle, Richard III. Richard had been born at Fotheringhay, and was a visitor to the place when in the area. It was upon one such occasion Edmund had gone to visit. Not much had changed in eighty years.
The treaty was signed on the 6th of July. Edmund stood to one side with Melchett while the Queen put pen to parchment. The treaty, along with removing both French and English troops from Scotland, annulled Mary's claims to the throne of England. Everyone was satisfied but Mary, who would not ratify the treaty. It mattered not; on command of her most august majesty Elizabeth, Queen of England and Ireland etc., the English troops would immediately begin returning home. The French troops would also begin to take their upturned noses back across the channel.
Later that evening a courier arrived at Fotheringhay who extended to them on behalf of Lord Mildmay an invitation to Apethorpe House before they returned to London.
The dust settled quickly to the drive in front of Apethorpe House as Blackadder stiffly alit from the carriage, massaging his sore back. Off to the east dark clouds hung low over the hills; the air was oppressively close. He followed the Queen and Lord Melchett into the yard, where they were met by Lord Mildmay, a light-haired man in his late thirties with a long face and a ready smile. With him stood his wife Mary. They were so incredibly pleased the Queen and her entourage had accepted his offer that they insisted on giving the Queen and her small court a tour of Apethorpe House that evening after supper.
Mildmay had had a suite of rooms especially built for Elizabeth on the south side of the Great Hall, with mullioned windows looking out over the gardens. When the windows were opened, a breeze scented with lavender and roses wafted through the rooms.
A special room had been set aside as well for the Queen to receive the few visitors who might come to her during her time there. It was small, but there were large windows in the wall opposite the double doors, and there was plenty of light. Elizabeth decided she wanted her "throne" set up right against the wall, in the space between the windows. There was more to this than met the eye; anyone coming in would behold their Sovereign framed in light. More, the light coming in through the windows would keep them from noticing if she were tired or not wearing her makeup, which she tended to avoid when she traveled. That room was referred to simply as the Little Chamber.
The double doors of the Little Chamber opened out onto a wide hallway that stretched fifty feet along the east side of the building. On the south east corner the hall ended in doors that opened to the outside, and from there one could walk into the gardens on the south side of the property or into the lawns on the east side of the property. The end of the hallway on the east side opened into a cloistered walk paved with local grey-green stones.
The Queen's suite of rooms took nearly all the south side of the building; the remaining rooms were for Melchett and Blackadder. On the court side of the south wing, the rooms looking into the yard were taken by other Lords and Ladies and attendants. And finally, to make sure the Queen and her court were safe during her visit to Apethorpe, Lord Mildmay retained what some might have considered a small army of men who made it their business to patrol the property.
After supper the Queen and her servants retired to her rooms, the advisors and courtiers to their lesser rooms next to hers.
That evening a hard rain fell, and lightening lit up Blackadder's room as he got ready to sleep. There was a knock on his door and he opened it to find Baldrick with a candlestick.
"I just came to see if you needed anything, my lord," Baldrick said. Then he saw the window above Blackadder's bed was open and went to shut it.
"You'll catch your death with this window open," he scolded.
"I rather doubt it," Blackadder said dryly. "I've always slept with a window open, you know that."
"Yes, my lord, but they do say the night air brings sickness." Baldrick closed the windows tightly and took one last look around the room to make sure everything was right.
Blackadder went to the window and threw it open. "Baldrick, the only way the night air might hurt me is if a thief climbs in through the window and in a moment of carelessness steps on my head." He looked out the window and took a deep breath. "Ah, I like this place! Did you see the gardens as we drove in this evening? I can still smell the roses."
Baldrick had not much appreciation for flowers, but he nodded. "Yeah, it does smell nice."
"And what's more, Baldrick," Blackadder said as he turned back to his servant, "Lord Dudley, with his many colorful suits of clothes, his whispy little mustache and beard and his thinning hair, is not here. That alone is worth a year of weeks like this!"
He didn't like Dudley. Every time he saw the man behaving amorously toward the Queen, he thought of Amy Robsart alone at home. Amy had accompanied Dudley to court once a few months ago. It was the only time Blackadder ever saw her. She was not ravishingly beautiful as Lady Farrow had been; rather, she displayed a fine-boned attractiveness, with a broad forehead, pointed chin and large blue eyes. Not even to himself would he admit she reminded him of Kate.
Blackadder had heard the gossip that Dudley married Amy only for her dowry. True, marriage for love was considered a luxury of the rich. Only nobles could afford to marry for love, although often marriages were contracted to consolidate titles and power. The poor, who had nothing to lose, could also marry for love. But love, they said, had not entered into the equation for Dudley. It wasn't right, he thought, that Dudley's wife should languish at home while her husband wooed the Queen. It was not right that the Queen should be paid court by such a man. He wasn't good enough for her. Even Melchett would be a better man than Dudley—was, in fact.
One day toward the end of breakfast, after Sir Walter and his wife excused themselves, the Queen put down her fork and declared, "Oh, I wish Dudley were here!"
"Miss him, do you, madam?" Melchett kept his eyes on the orange he was peeling.
"I want to go for a ride, Melchy, and my Master of Horse is not here!"
"No, madam, he is not." Melchett could have been talking about the weather. "But Lord Blackadder is here, and I understand he rides quite well."
"Really?"
"Yes. He brought his horse, Black Arrow, along, you know. Tell her Majesty why your horse has that name, Blackadder."
Blackadder hastily swallowed his toast and laid down his knife. "I named him Black Arrow firstly, madam, because he is black. And secondly, because I fancy he can run as fast as an arrow can fly."
"Really?" Elizabeth got a look in her eye that made Blackadder just a little uneasy. "Wonderful!" She put down her fork and stood up. "Lord Blackadder, we're going riding."
"There is nothing I'd like better than a good ride, Majesty." And he followed her out of the room.
Gossip was the lubricant of Court machinery. Blackadder didn't often pass it on, but he listened to anything he could get his ears around. One of the many things he had heard about the Queen was that when she went out riding with Robert Dudley she wore a riding costume which was split so that she could sit astride a horse like a man. As if that weren't enough, she also rode races with Dudley. It was the opinion of many that the Queen should not carry on in such a manner. The wonder of it was, the tongue-waggers said, that as good a rider as Dudley was, the Queen always won.
A groom stood outside the stables with one of the Queen's favorite horses and Blackadder saddled and bridled Black Arrow.
"Well, boy, you're about to get your first run in a while." He ran his hand down the stallion's neck and the horse turned his head and rested it on Blackadder's shoulder briefly. "Yes," he said as he led the horse into the courtyard. "I think it's going to be a good ride."
A few minutes later, Elizabeth came walking across the grass to them. She was in a brown outfit quite like a man's with trousers and a long coat, a riding whip under her arm. Her hair, which he was surprised to find was quite long, was bound up in cords at her neck. Without a word she took the reins from the groom.
"Now Blackadder," she said, "if the cinch is not tight or if the horse throws a shoe and I fall, you shall bear the blame."
"Madam?" He stood beside Black Arrow, wondering if that wasn't the groom's job.
"Since my Master of Horse isn't here, you must take his place. We'll ride out to the tall oak and back." Then she checked the cinch herself, making sure the girth was tight, and mounted in one smooth move. Without warning, she took the horse into a gallop and called back, "Come on, Blackie, ride!"
He jumped into the saddle and tore out of the yard after her.
She rode north. It was obvious she knew the land here, where the ground was soft and where there was firm footing for the horses. She was a good horsewoman, he had to give her that. The sun, still low above the trees to their right, lit the land with a warm glow, glinting off the ripening wheat in the fields to either side of them. The long grasses, the bushes and shrubs still wet with dew and holding leaves and berries from last year, seemed to have been dipped in a vat of gold and then dusted with diamonds. And Elizabeth's hair shone like new copper.
Suddenly he realized he was looking at her from behind, and they were racing, weren't they?
"Now Black Arrow, justify my faith in you." And he reached back and gently slapped the horse on the flank. Black Arrow gathered himself under Edmund and exploded. Steadily they gained on the Queen and the dun she was riding. He could hear her laughing up ahead, shrieking like a banshee, urging her horse on.
They drew even with Elizabeth and she looked over at them, an expression of astonishment on her face. She began to use the riding whip on the dun, determination replacing surprise. The dun pulled ahead, and she smiled, then let out a most unladylike whoop.
Edmund pushed up and settled just behind Black Arrow's shoulders. Then he leaned over and put his head to one side of the horse's neck. "Good job, Black Arrow, good job. Put your heart into it, my pride."
Slowly, Edmund and Black Arrow pulled ahead, and he began to laugh. How long had it been since he had been able to take the horse out and give him his head? And the morning air on his face, the feel of the wind in his hair, was exhilarating.
Ahead of them and up a rise stood a tall lone oak. He hadn't put the spurs to the stallion yet; he doubted he would need to. It seemed Black Arrow's hooves were merely skimming the ground. If there could be nobility for horses, Blackadder thought, this one would be the king. He reined in, slowing as he rounded the oak and passing Elizabeth and the dun as they approached it.
He rode for all he was worth, then. Back down the rise, back over the churned earth, back past the shrubs and the trees. And faintly behind him he heard a cry. Rising up in the stirrups again, he looked quickly behind. Elizabeth had stopped and dismounted and was leading the dun.
Puzzled, he slowed Black Arrow and trotted back to where she stood waiting for him.
"Madam, are you—"
"Yes, I am well."
"Is your horse—"
"My horse is perfectly fine, Lord Blackadder!"
" Is anything amiss?"
"Yes, something is amiss!"
He dismounted and together they began to walk their mounts back to Apethorpe House.
"I don't understand, madam."
"Dudley always lets me win!"
"Ah." He walked on in silence for a minute. "And you think I should have let you win, is that it?"
"Yes, I do."
"But you see, madam, if I beat you fairly, then you lose fairly. Which is better than winning unfairly, I believe."
They were nearly at the courtyard. The groom, not hearing the horses thundering back as expected, was no where to be seen. Elizabeth spoke again, and he noticed a slight change in her voice. They might have been discussing ethics in horse racing, but she was still his Sovereign. "Do you really believe that, Blackadder?"
He thought for a moment. Did he really believe it? For decades he had done whatever was necessary to to get ahead, whatever was necessary to to get money, whatever was necessary to get—anything he wanted. Whatever he had to do to get what he wanted, that had been his rule.
He looked down at his boots, now covered in dust. What was his rule with this woman? After a moment he said, "Madam, between you and me there will always be honesty. And if you ever win a race with me, you can be assured you will have won it fairly."
They had reached the yard and she stopped. "You mean that, don't you?" Gone the laughing, shrieking young woman; she was the Queen now.
"Yes, I do."
She held out her hand to him. "Thank you for a good race, then. And remember your words, Lord Blackadder."
"Yes ma'am, I shall." He bent over her hand to kiss it, and as he did so impulse seized him and he lingered. Ever so softly, he ran his lips over the back of her hand, and then bit one of her knuckles.
The Queen's groom appeared and Blackadder straightened and walked away leading his horse. Behind him the Queen of England and Ireland, etc. wore a most thoughtful look.
Back in the Little Chamber, Nursie was sitting with her everlasting sewing when Elizabeth, now washed and in a proper gown, came in.
"How was your ride, my pet?"
The Queen sat down on the big chair that served as a throne and rested her chin on her fist. "I lost."
"Lord Blackadder won the race?"
"Yes, he did."
"Oh, then you'll have to have his head cut off, won't you?"
"No, I won't. Not yet."
"But why ever not?" Nursie, whom Elizabeth suspected really was getting daft, leaned close and took a conspiratorial tone. "You won't let Robert Dudley win."
"Dudley never lets me lose. There's a difference."
"Well, then, you'll just have to cut off Lord Blackadder's head until he learns to let you win."
"He only has one head, Nursie."
"That's not what I heard, my pet."
Nursie was saved from her own silliness by the appearance of Melchett, who informed the Queen that Lady Mildmay would be honored by a walk in the gardens. Lord Mildmay was absent, having business in London as his duties to the Queen required, but every comfort of her court had been provided for.
The visit completed the next day, everyone climbed back into their carriages and the caravan made its way back to London without incident. Nobody noticed if the Queen in her carriage, and the Lord Blackadder in his, were uncharacteristically quiet.
Court settled in at Windsor and business continued with an vigor that surprised the Court itself. There were no great emergencies, no great occurrences. Lords and ladies and other courtiers were able to put all their energy into their pursuits. Which, depending on who they were, was not necessarily a good thing.
Thanks to jnooteb for reviewing. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! If others of you would care to review, I would appreciate it—feedback lets me know how I'm doing here. :-)