It is to this sixth Earl of Shrewsbury, and to his times, that we owe much of the glamour and interest of Wingfield’s history, owing to the fact that for well nigh sixteen years he was the custodian of that unhappy lady, Mary Queen of Scots. For various lengthy periods the poor harassed Queen was a close prisoner within the all-too-hospitable walls of this manor house. The Earl’s charge of Queen Mary was no sinecure it seems, as according to Blore:— “In this service he preserved his fidelity to Elizabeth unshaken; but he was so perpetually teized (_sic_) by her suspicions and those of her ministers, that his office, which might otherwise have been desirable to so great a nobleman, as a distinguished mark of honour and confidence, appears to have inflicted upon him a severity of punishment little inferior to that of his unfortunate captive. The fear of Elizabeth’s displeasure induced him, at times, to a moroseness in his behaviour to Mary, which implanted in her bosom sentiments of distaste and resentment, that her high spirit could not be subdued, by her sufferings, to dissemble; whilst at other times by real or colourable marks of kindness and attention to Mary, he drew upon himself the malevolence of a wife, ever alive to jealousy and prepared to empoison his comforts, and the suspicions and rebukes of his Queen, who had no trifling satisfaction in mortifying and humiliating the greatest of her subjects.” He was, in other words, “between the devil and the deep sea.” The custody of the prisoner Queen was first placed in Lord Shrewsbury’s hands during January, 1569, while he was in residence at Tutbury Castle; her removal to Wingfield took place on April 20th of the same year. Three weeks later she was suddenly and mysteriously seized with a violent attack of some malady, which caused grave anxiety to her custodian. Two physicians were promptly dispatched by the Privy Council to undertake her cure, and these worthies gave but a bad account of the sanitary conditions of her prison quarters. Their report seems to have considerably nettled the Earl of Shrewsbury, who retorted that “the very unpleasant and fulsome savour, in the next chamber, hurtful to her health” was directly owing to the “continual festering and uncleanly order of her own folke.” Since the cause was known to him, it seems strange that he did not try to do something to better it. The unfortunate Queen was removed with all speed to Chatsworth—where her moated bower still remains—for this princely residence was brought to the Earl by his second matrimonial venture, Elizabeth, better known as “Bess of Hardwick.”