When Knighthood Was in Flower: or, the Love Story of Charles Brandon and Mary Tudor the King's Sister, and Happening in the Reign of His August Majesty King Henry the EighthMajor, Charles
History
When Knighthood Was in Flower: or, the Love Story of Charles Brandon and Mary Tudor the King's Sister, and Happening in the Reign of His August Majesty King Henry the Eighth
Major, Charles
Great Britain -- History -- Henry VIII, 1509-1547 -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Love stories; Mary, Queen, consort of Louis XII, King of France, 1496-1533 -- Fiction; Suffolk, Charles Brandon, Duke of, approximately 1484-1545 -- Fiction
Scarcely was Brandon safely ensconced behind a clump of arbor vitae
when whom should he see coming down the path toward the gate but his
grace, the Duke of Buckingham. He was met by one of the Bridewell
servants who was in attendance upon the princess.
"Yes, your grace, this is the gate," said the girl. "You can hide
yourself and watch them as they go. They will pass out on this path.
As I said, I do not know where they are going; I only overheard them
say they would go out at this gate just before dark. I am sure they go
on some errand of gallantry, which your grace will soon learn, I make
no doubt."
He replied that he "would take care of that."
Brandon did not see where Buckingham hid himself, but soon the two
innocent adventurers came down the path, attired in the short skirts
and bonnets of orange girls, and let themselves out at the gate.
Buckingham followed them and Brandon quickly followed him. The girls
passed through a little postern in the wall opposite Bridewell House,
and walked rapidly up Fleet Ditch; climbed Ludgate Hill; passed Paul's
church; turned toward the river down Bennett Hill; to the left on
Thames street; then on past the Bridge, following Lower Thames street
to the neighborhood of Fish-street Hill, where they took an alley
leading up toward East Cheap to Grouche's house.
It was a brave thing for the girl to do, and showed the determined
spirit that dwelt in her soft white breast. Aside from the real
dangers, there was enough to deter any woman, I should think.
Jane wept all the way over, but Mary never flinched.
There were great mud-holes where one sank ankle-deep, for no one paved
the street at that time, strangely enough preferring to pay the
sixpence fine per square yard for leaving it undone. At one place,
Brandon told me, a load of hay blocked the streets, compelling them to
squeeze between the houses and the hay. He could hardly believe the
girls had passed that way, as he had not always been able to keep them
in view, but had sometimes to follow them by watching Buckingham. He,
however, kept as close as possible, and presently saw them turn down
Grouche's alley and enter his house.
Upon learning where they had stopped, Buckingham hurriedly took
himself off, and Brandon waited for the girls to come out. It seemed a
very long time that they were in the wretched place, and darkness had
well descended upon London when they emerged.
Mary soon noticed that a man was following them, and as she did not
know who he was, became greatly alarmed. The object of her journey had
been accomplished now, so the spur of a strong motive to keep her
courage up was lacking.
"Jane, some one is following us," she whispered.
"Yes," answered Jane, with an unconcern that surprised Mary, for she
knew Jane was a coward from the top of her brown head to the tip of
her little pink heels.
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