TOWARD daylight of the same morning, Tom Canty stirred out of a
heavy sleep and opened his eyes in the dark. He lay silent a few
moments, trying to analyze his confused thoughts and impressions,
and get some sort of meaning out of them, then suddenly he burst out
in a rapturous but guarded voice:
'I see it all, I see it all! Now God be thanked, I am, indeed,
awake at last! Come, joy! vanish, sorrow! Ho, Nan! Bet! kick off
your straw and hie ye hither to my side, till I do pour into your
unbelieving ears the wildest madcap dream that ever the spirits of
night did conjure up to astonish the soul of man withal!... Ho, Nan, I
say! Bet!'...
A dim form appeared at his side, and a voice said:
'Wilt deign to deliver thy commands?'
'Commands?... Oh, woe is me, I know thy voice! Speak, thou- who am
I?'
'Thou? In sooth, yesternight wert thou the Prince of Wales, to-day
art thou my most gracious liege, Edward, king of England.'
Tom buried his head among his pillows, murmuring plaintively:
'Alack, it was no dream! Go to thy rest, sweet sir- leave me to my
sorrows.'
Tom slept again, and after a time he had this pleasant dream. He
thought it was summer and he was playing, all alone, in the fair
meadow called Goodman's Fields, when a dwarf only a foot high, with
long red whiskers and a humped back, appeared to him suddenly and
said, 'Dig, by that stump.' He did so, and found twelve bright new
pennies- wonderful riches! Yet this was not the best of it; for the
dwarf said:
'I know thee. Thou art a good lad and deserving; thy distresses
shall end, for the day of thy reward is come. Dig here every seventh
day, and thou shalt find always the same treasure, twelve bright new
pennies. Tell none- keep the secret.'
Then the dwarf vanished, and Tom flew to Offal Court with his
prize, saying to himself, 'Every night will I give my father a
penny; he will think I begged it, it will glad his heart, and I
shall no more be beaten. One penny every week the good priest that
teacheth me shall have; mother, Nan, and Bet the other four. We be
done with hunger and rags now, done with fears and frets and savage
usage.'
In his dream he reached his sordid home all out of breath, but
with eyes dancing with grateful enthusiasm; cast four of his pennies
into his mother's lap and cried out:
'They are for thee!- all of them, every one!- for thee and Nan and
Bet- and honestly come by, not begged nor stolen!'
The happy and astonished mother strained him to her breast and
exclaimed:
'It waxeth late- may it please your majesty to rise?'
Ah, that was not the answer he was expecting. The dream had
snapped asunder- he was awake.
He opened his eyes- the richly clad First Lord of the Bedchamber
was kneeling by his couch. The gladness of the lying dream faded away-
the poor boy recognized that he was still a captive and a king. The
room was filled with courtiers clothed in purple mantles- the mourning
color- and with noble servants of the monarch. Tom sat up in bed and
gazed out from the heavy silken curtains upon this fine company.
The weighty business of dressing began, and one courtier after
another knelt and paid his court and offered to the little king his
condolences upon his heavy loss, while the dressing proceeded. In
the beginning, a shirt was taken up by the Chief Equerry in Waiting,
who passed it to the First Lord of the Buckhounds, who passed it to
the Second Gentleman of the Bedchamber, who passed it to the Head
Ranger of Windsor Forest, who passed it to the Third Groom of the
Stole, who passed it to the Chancellor Royal of the Duchy of
Lancaster, who passed it to the Master of the Wardrobe, who passed
it to Norroy King-at-Arms, who passed it to the Constable of the
Tower, who passed it to the Chief Steward of the Household, who passed
it to the Hereditary Grand Diaperer, who passed it to the Lord High
Admiral of England, who passed it to the Archbishop of Canterbury, who
passed it to the First Lord of the Bedchamber, who took what was
left of it and put it on Tom. Poor little wondering chap, it
reminded him of passing buckets at a fire.
Each garment in its turn had to go through this slow and solemn
process; consequently Tom grew very weary of the ceremony; so weary
that he felt an almost gushing gratefulness when he at last saw his
long silken hose begin the journey down the line and knew that the end
of the matter was drawing near. But he exulted too soon. The First
Lord of the Bedchamber received the hose and was about to encase Tom's
legs in them, when a sudden flush invaded his face and he hurriedly
hustled the things back into the hands of the Archbishop of Canterbury
with an astounded look and a whispered, 'See, my lord!'- pointing to a
something connected with the hose. The Archbishop paled, then flushed,
and passed the hose to the Lord High Admiral, whispering 'See, my
lord!' The Admiral passed the hose to the Hereditary Grand Diaperer,
and had hardly breath enough in his body to ejaculate, 'See, my lord!'
The hose drifted backward along the line, to the Chief Steward of
the Household, the Constable of the Tower, Norroy King-at-Arms, the
Master of the Wardrobe, the Chancellor Royal of the Duchy of
Lancaster, the Third Groom of the Stole, the Head Ranger of Windsor
Forest, the Second Gentleman of the Bedchamber, the First Lord of
the Buckhounds- accompanied always with that amazed and frightened
'See! see!'- till they finally reached the hands of the Chief
Equerry in Waiting, who gazed a moment, with a pallid face, upon
what had caused all this dismay, then hoarsely whispered 'Body of my
life, a tag gone from a truss point!- to the Tower with the Head
Keeper of the King's Hose!'- after which he leaned upon the shoulder
of the First Lord of the Buckhounds to regather his vanished
strength while fresh hose, without any damaged strings to them, were
brought.
But all things must have an end, and so in time Tom Canty was in a
condition to get out of bed. The proper official poured water, the
proper official engineered the washing, the proper official stood by
with a towel, and by and by Tom got safely through the purifying stage
and was ready for the services of the Hairdresser-Royal. When he at
length emerged from his master's hands, he was a gracious figure and
as pretty as a girl, in his mantle and trunks of purple satin, and
purple-plumed cap. He now moved in state toward his breakfast-room,
through the midst of the courtly assemblage; and as he passed, these
fell back, leaving his way free, and dropped upon their knees.
After breakfast he was conducted, with regal ceremony, attended by
his great officers and his guard of fifty Gentlemen Pensioners bearing
gilt battle-axes, to the throne-room, where he proceeded to transact
business of state. His 'uncle' Lord Hertford, took his stand by the
throne, to assist he royal mind with wise counsel.
The body of illustrious men named by the late king as his
executors, appeared, to ask Tom's approval of certain acts of
theirs- rather a form, and yet not wholly a form, since there was no
Protector as yet. The Archbishop of Canterbury made report of the
decree of the Council of Executors concerning the obsequies of his
late most illustrious majesty, and finished by reading the
signatures of the executors, to wit: the Archbishop of Canterbury; the
Lord Chancellor of England; William Lord St. John; John Lord
Russell; Edward Earl of Hertford; John Viscount Lisle; Cuthbert Bishop
of Durham-
Tom was not listening- an earlier clause of the document was
puzzling him. At this point he turned and whispered to Lord Hertford:
'What day did he say the burial hath been appointed for?'
'The 16th of the coming month, my liege.'
''Tis a strange folly. Will he keep?'
Poor chap, he was still new to the customs of royalty; he was used
to seeing the forlorn dead of Offal Court hustled out of the way
with a very different sort of expedition. However, the Lord Hertford
set his mind at rest with a word or two.
A secretary of state presented an order of the council
appointing the morrow at eleven for the reception of the foreign
ambassadors, and desired the king's assent.
Tom turned an inquiring look toward Hertford, who whispered:
'Your majesty will signify consent. They come to testify their
royal masters' sense of the heavy calamity which hath visited your
grace and the realm of England.'
Tom did as he was bidden. Another secretary began to read a
preamble concerning the expenses of the late king's household, which
had amounted to L28,000 during the preceding six months- a sum so vast
that it made Tom Canty gasp; he gasped again when the fact appeared
that L20,000 of this money were still owing and unpaid;*(10) and
once more when it appeared that the king's coffers were about empty,
and his twelve hundred servants much embarrassed for lack of the wages
due them. Tom spoke out, with lively apprehension.
'We be going to the dogs, 'tis plain. 'Tis meet and necessary that
we take a smaller house and set the servants at large, sith they be of
no value but to make delay, and trouble one with offices that harass
the spirit and shame the soul, they misbecoming any but a doll, that
hath nor brains nor hands to help itself withal. I remember me of a
small house that standeth over against the fish-market, by
Billingsgate-'
A sharp pressure upon Tom's arm stopped his foolish tongue and
sent a blush to his face; but no countenance there betrayed any sign
that this strange speech had been remarked or given concern.
A secretary made report that forasmuch as the late king had
provided in his will for conferring the ducal degree upon the Earl
of Hertford and raising his brother, Sir Thomas Seymour, to the
peerage, and likewise Hertford's son to an earldom, together similar
aggrandizements to other great servants of the crown, the council
had resolved to hold a sitting on the 16th February for the delivering
and confirming of these honors; and that meantime the late king not
having granted, in writing, estates suitable to the support of these
dignities, the council, knowing his private wishes in that regard, had
thought proper to grant to Seymour '500 pound lands' and to Hertford's
son '800 pound lands, and 300 pound of the next bishop's lands which
should fall vacant,'- his present majesty being willing.*(11)
Tom was about to blurt out something about the propriety of paying
the late king's debts first before squandering all his money; but a
timely touch upon his arm, from the thoughtful Hertford, saved him
this indiscretion; wherefore he gave the royal assent, without
spoken comment, but with much inward discomfort. While he sat
reflecting a moment over the ease with which he was doing strange
and glittering miracles, a happy thought shot into his mind: why not
make his mother Duchess of Offal Court and give her an estate? But a
sorrowful thought swept it instantly away; he was only a king in name,
these grave veterans and great nobles were his masters; to them his
mother was only the creature of a diseased mind; they would simply
listen to his project with unbelieving ears, then send for the doctor.
The dull work went tediously on. Petitions were read, and
proclamations, patents, and all manner of wordy, repetitious and
wearisome papers relating to the public business; and at last Tom
sighed pathetically and murmured to himself, 'In what have I offended,
that the good God should take me away from the fields and the free air
and the sunshine, to shut me up here and make me a king and afflict me
so?' Then his poor muddled head nodded awhile, and presently dropped
to his shoulder; and the business of the empire came to a standstill
for want of that august factor, the ratifying power. Silence ensued
around the slumbering child, and the sages of the realm ceased from
their deliberations.
During the forenoon, Tom had an enjoyable hour, by permission of
his keepers, Hertford and St. John, with the Lady Elizabeth and the
little Lady Jane Grey; though the spirits of the princesses were
rather subdued by the mighty stroke that had fallen upon the royal
house; and at the end of the visit his 'elder sister'- afterward the
'Bloody Mary' of history- chilled him with a solemn interview which
had but one merit in his eyes, its brevity. He had a few moments to
himself, and then a slim lad of about twelve years of age was admitted
to his presence, whose clothing, except his snowy ruff and the laces
about his wrists, was of black- doublet, hose and all. He bore no
badge of mourning but a knot of purple ribbon on his shoulder. He
advanced hesitatingly, with head bowed and bare, and dropped upon
one knee in front of Tom. Tom sat still and contemplated him soberly
for a moment. Then he said:
'Rise, lad. Who art thou? What wouldst have?'
The boy rose, and stood at graceful ease, but with an aspect of
concern in his face. He said:
'Of a surety thou must remember me, my lord. I am thy
whipping-boy.
'My whipping-boy?'
'The same, your grace, I am Humphrey- Humphrey Marlow.'
Tom perceived that here was some one whom his keepers ought to
have posted him about. The situation was delicate. What should he do?-
pretend he knew this lad, and then betray, by his every utterance,
that he had never heard of him before? No, that would not do. An
idea came to his relief: accidents like this might be likely to happen
with some frequency, now that business urgencies would often call
Hertford and St. John from his side, they being members of the council
of executors; therefore perhaps it would be well to strike out a
plan himself to meet the requirements of such emergencies. Yes, that
would be a wise course- he would practise on this boy, and see what
sort of success he might achieve. So he stroked his brow, perplexedly,
a moment or two, and presently said:
'Now I seem to remember thee somewhat- but my wit is clogged and
dim with suffering-'
'Alack, my poor master!' ejaculated the whipping-boy, with
feeling; adding, to himself, 'In truth 'tis as they said- his mind
is gone- alas, poor soul! But misfortune catch me, how am I
forgetting! they said one must not seem to observe that aught is wrong
with him.'
''Tis strange how my memory doth wanton with me these days,'
said Tom. 'But mind it not- I mend apace- a little clue doth often
serve to bring me back again the things and names which had escaped
me. (And not they, only, forsooth, but e'en such as I ne'er heard
before- as this lad shall see.) Give thy business speech.'
''Tis matter of small weight, my liege, yet will I touch upon
it, an it please your grace. Two days gone by, when your majesty
faulted thrice in your Greek- in the morning lessons- dost remember
it?'
'Ye-e-s- methinks I do. (It is not much of a lie- an I had meddled
with the Greek at all, I had not faulted simply thrice, but forty
times). Yes, I do recall it now- go on.'
-'The master, being wroth with what he termed such slovenly and
doltish work, did promise that he would soundly whip me for it- and-'
'Whip thee!' said Tom, astonished out of his presence of mind.
'Why should he whip thee for faults of mine?'
'Ah, your grace forgetteth again. He always scourgeth me, when
thou dost fail in thy lessons.'
'True, true- I had forgot. Thou teachest me in private- then if
I fail, he argueth that thy office was lamely done, and-'
'Oh, my liege, what words are these? I, the humblest of thy
servants, presume to teach thee!'
'Then where is thy blame? What riddle is this? Am I in truth
gone mad, or is it thou? Explain- speak out.'
'But, good your majesty, there's naught that needeth
simplifying. None may visit the sacred person of the Prince of Wales
with blows; wherefore when he faulteth, 'tis I that take them; and
meet it is and right, for that it is mine office and my
livelihood.'*(12)
Tom stared at the tranquil boy, observing to himself, 'Lo, it is a
wonderful thing- a most strange and curious trade; I marvel they
have not hired a boy to take my combings and my dressings for me-
would heaven they would!- an they will do this thing, I will take my
lashings in mine own person, giving thanks to God for the change.'
Then he said aloud:
'And hast thou been beaten, poor friend, according to the
promise?'
'No, good your majesty, my punishment was appointed for this
day, and peradventure it may be annulled, as unbefitting the season of
mourning that is come upon us; I know not, and so have made bold to
come hither and remind your grace about your gracious promise to
intercede in my behalf-'
'With the master? To save thee thy whipping?'
'Ah, thou dost remember!'
'My memory mendeth, thou seest. Set thy mind at ease- thy back
shall go unscathed- I will see to it.'
'Oh, thanks, my good lord!' cried the boy, dropping upon his
knee again. 'Mayhap I have ventured far enow; and yet'....
Seeing Master Humphrey hesitate, Tom encouraged him to go on,
saying he was 'in the granting mood.'
'Then will I speak it out, for it lieth near my heart. Sith thou
art no more Prince of Wales but king, thou canst order matters as thou
wilt, with none to say thee nay; wherefore it is not in reason that
thou wilt longer vex thyself with dreary studies, but wilt burn thy
books and turn thy mind to things less irksome. Then am I ruined,
and mine orphan sisters with me!'
'Ruined? Prithee, how?'
'My back is my bread, O my gracious liege! if it go idle, I
starve. An thou cease from study, mine office is gone, thou'lt need no
whipping-boy. Do not turn me away!'
Tom was touched with this pathetic distress. He said, with a right
royal burst of generosity:
'Discomfort thyself no further, lad. Thine office shall be
permanent in thee and thy line, forever.' Then he struck the boy a
light blow on the shoulder with the flat of his sword, exclaiming,
'Rise, Humphrey Marlow, Hereditary Grand Whipping-Boy to the royal
house of England! Banish sorrow- I will betake me to my books again,
and study so ill that they must in justice treble thy wage, so
mightily shall the business of thine office be augmented.'
The grateful Humphrey responded fervidly:
'Thanks, oh, most noble master, this princely lavishness doth
far surpass my most distempered dreams of fortune. Now shall I be
happy all my days, and all the house of Marlow after me.'
Tom had wit enough to perceive that here was a lad who could be
useful to him. He encouraged Humphrey to talk, and he was nothing
loath. He was delighted to believe that he was helping in Tom's
'cure'; for always, as soon as he had finished calling back to Tom's
diseased mind the various particulars of his experiences and
adventures in the royal schoolroom and elsewhere about the palace,
he noticed that Tom was then able to 'recall' the circumstances
quite clearly. At the end of an hour Tom found himself well
freighted with very valuable information concerning personages and
matters pertaining to the court; so he resolved to draw instruction
from this source daily; and to this end he would give order to admit
Humphrey to the royal closet whenever he might come, provided the
majesty of England was not engaged with other people.
Humphrey had hardly been dismissed when my Lord Hertford arrived
with more trouble for Tom. He said that the lords of the council,
fearing that some overwrought report of the king's damaged health
might have leaked out and got abroad, they deemed it wise and best
that his majesty should begin to dine in public after a day or two-
his wholesome complexion and vigorous step, assisted by a carefully
guarded repose of manner and ease and grace of demeanor, would more
surely quiet the general pulse- in case any evil rumors had gone
about- than any other scheme that could be devised.
Then the earl proceeded, very delicately, to instruct Tom as to
the observances proper to the stately occasion, under the rather
thin disguise of 'reminding' him concerning things already known to
him; but to his vast gratification it turned out that Tom needed
very little help in this line- he had been making use of Humphrey in
that direction, for Humphrey had mentioned that within a few days he
was to begin to dine in public; having gathered it from the
swift-winged gossip of the court. Tom kept these facts to himself,
however.
Seeing the royal memory so improved, the earl ventured to apply
a few tests to it, in an apparently casual way, to find out how far
its amendment had progressed. The results were happy, here and
there, in spots- spots where Humphrey's tracks remained- and, on the
whole, my lord was greatly pleased and encouraged. So encouraged was
he, indeed, that he spoke up and said in a quite hopeful voice:
'Now am I persuaded that if your majesty will but tax your
memory yet a little further, it will resolve the puzzle of the Great
Seal- a loss which was of moment yesterday, although of none to-day,
since its term of service ended with our late lord's life. May it
please your grace to make the trial?'
Tom was at sea- a Great Seal was a something which he was
totally unacquainted with. After a moment's hesitation he looked up
innocently and asked:
'What was it like, my lord?'
The earl started, almost imperceptibly, muttering to himself,
'Alack, his wits are flown again!- it was ill wisdom to lead him on to
strain them-' then he deftly turned the talk to other matters, with
the purpose of sweeping the unlucky Seal out of Tom's thoughts- a
purpose which easily succeeded.