Margaret Tudor Part 1

Margaret Tudor.

by Annie T. Colc.o.c.k.

"That thee is sent receive in buxomnesse, The wrastling of this world asketh a fall, Here is no home, here is but wildernesse, . . . . .

Looke up on high, and thanke G.o.d of all!"

CHAUCER.

NOTE.

The names of Mr. John Rivers,--kinsman and agent of Lord Ashley,--Dr.

Wm. Scrivener and Margaret Tudor appear in the pa.s.senger list of the _Carolina_, as given in the Shaftesbury Papers (Collections of the South Carolina Historical Society, Vol. V, page 135). In the same (page 169) may be found a brief account of the capture, at Santa Catalina, of Mr.

Rivers, Capt. Baulk, some seamen, _a woman, and a girl_; also (page 175) mention of the unsuccessful emba.s.sy of Mr. Collins; and (page 204) the Memorial to the Spanish Amba.s.sador touching the delivery of the prisoners, one of whom is alluded to as _Margaret_, presumably Margaret Tudor.

The names of the two Spaniards, Senor de Colis and Don Pedro Melinza, each appear once in the Shaftesbury Papers (pages 25 and 443): the latter individual was evidently a person of some consequence in San Augustin; the former, in the year 1663, was "Governour and Captain-General, Cavallier, and Knight of the Order of St. James."

ANNIE T. COLc.o.c.k.

THE STORY OF MARGARET TUDOR

CHAPTER I.

San Augustin, this 29th of June, Anno Domini 1670.

It is now more than a month since our captivity began, and there seems scant likelihood that it will come to a speedy close,--altho', being in good health myself, and of an age when hope dies slowly, I despair not of recovering both liberty and friends. Yet, in the event of our further detention, of sickness or any other evil that may befall me--and there is one threatening--I write these pages of true history, praying that they may some time reach the hand of my guardian and uncle, Dr. William Scrivener, if he be still alive and dwelling in these parts. Should they chance, instead, to meet the eyes of some friendly-disposed person of English blood and Protestant faith, to whom the name of William Scrivener is unknown, I beseech him to deliver them to any person sailing with the sloop _Three Brothers_, which did set out from the Island of Barbadoes on the 2nd of November last,--being in the hire of Sir Thomas Colleton, and bearing freight and pa.s.sengers for these sh.o.r.es.

If the sloop has suffered some misadventure (as I fear is not unlikely,--either at the hands of the Spaniards, or else of the Indians of these parts, who do show themselves most unfriendly to all Englishmen, being set on to mischief by the Spanish friars), then I pray that word may be forwarded to his Lords.h.i.+p, the Duke of Albemarle, and others of the Lords Proprietors who did commission and furnish a fleet of three vessels, to wit: the _Carolina_, the _Port Royal_, and the _Albemarle_, which did weigh anchor at the Downs in August of last year, and set forth to plant an English colony at Port Royal.

In particular would I implore that word might reach Lord Ashley, seeing that his kinsman, Mr. John Rivers, is here detained a prisoner in sorry state, laden with chains in the dungeon of the Castle--for which may G.o.d forgive me, I being in some degree to blame; and yet, since it hath pleased Heaven to grant me the fair face that wrought the mischief, I hold myself the less guilty and grieve the more bitterly, inasmuch as I love him with a maid's true love and would willingly give my life to spare him hurt.

If it were so that I might give the true narrative of our present plight, and how it fell about, without c.u.mbering the tale with mention of my own name, it would please me best; but as those who read it may be strangers, I would better tell my story from the start.

Of myself it is enough to say that my name is Margaret Tudor, and saving my uncle, Dr. Scrivener, I am alone in the world and well-nigh portionless--my father having spent his all, and life and liberty to boot, in the service of King Charles, being one of those unfortunate royalists who plotted for His Majesty's return in the year '55. For, as Cromwell did discover their designs ere they were fully ripe, many were taken prisoners, of whom some suffered death and others banishment. Of these last was my father, who was torn from the arms of his young wife and babe and sent in slavery to Barbadoes. We could learn nothing of his after fate, though many inquiries were made in his behalf.

And so it fell about that,--my mother having gone to her rest,--I did take pa.s.sage with my uncle, Dr. William Scrivener, on board the _Carolina_, with intent to stop at Barbadoes and make some search for my poor father in the hope that he yet lived.

Among the pa.s.sengers of the _Carolina_ was Lord Ashley's kinsman and agent, Mr. John Rivers, of whom I can find naught to say that seems fitting; for although it may hap that in this great world there are other men of a countenance as fine, a mien as n.o.ble, and a heart as brave and tender, it has not been my lot as yet to encounter them.

Together we did sail for three months on the great deep, in danger of pirates, in peril of tempests, and in long hours of golden calm when the waters burned blue around us and the wide heaven shone pale and clear over our heads. And in all that time we came to know one another pa.s.sing well; and Mr. Rivers heard my father's story and promised to aid us in our search.

It was October when we reached Barbadoes and landed. Of the news that we obtained, and the strange chance that brought it to our ears, it is needless here to speak. Let it suffice that my dear father did not suffer long, as death soon freed him from his bondage.

We had no further cause to detain us in Barbadoes, so we yielded to the persuasions of Mr. Rivers that we should continue with the expedition to Port Royal; and, in November, we set sail once more in the _Three Brothers_, a sloop hired to replace the _Albemarle_, which, in consequence of a broken cable, had been driven ash.o.r.e in a gale and lost upon the rocks.

From now on, for the truth's sake, I must needs tell somewhat of my intercourse with Mr. Rivers. It may seem I am lacking in a proper modesty if I declare that, even then, there was more than friends.h.i.+p betwixt us. But surely there were reasons enough and to spare. That I should love him was no mystery--he being the gallant gentleman he is; and, since there chanced to be no other maid upon the vessel of proper age and gentle condition, I suppose it was in nature that he should make the best of the little society he had. But nay, I would be false to my own faith if I doubted that it was foreordained of Heaven that we should come together and love one another.

It is true that I did not make confession of this belief until I had tormented my would-be lord with every teasing device that entered into my brain. But though he was often cast down for hours together, he gave me to understand that he could read my heart in my blue eyes.

"An you were to swear upon your soul you hated me, dear lady, I'd not believe it," he once said. "Mistress Margaret is too unversed in city ways and shallow coquetries to play a part--and 'tis for that I love her so." And though it angered me to have him praise my innocence and country airs, I knew he spoke the truth, and that a time would come when I would own my love for him. And so it did.

A terrible storm had raged for eight-and-forty hours. There had been wild, black, awful nights, and sullen days when the gray curtains of the sky were torn asunder and whirled over us in inky folds, their tattered fringes las.h.i.+ng up the seas, and whipping our frail bark till it skulked and cowered, like a beaten cur that looks in vain for mercy. We had drifted northward far from our course, our two consorts had disappeared, and we had well-nigh given up hope, when with the dawning of the third day the wind lulled, and through the ragged clouds we saw the blue arch of heaven high above us.

I had climbed out upon the deck alone; and from a sheltered corner I saw the sun rise and gild a far-off strip of sh.o.r.e that lay to west of us.

It seemed a vision of a new heaven and a new earth, and I gave G.o.d thanks. Then a hand touched mine, and a voice whispered my name--and other words that need not be recorded here; and I could answer nothing in denial, for the reason that my heart was too full.

CHAPTER II.

The land to west of us was Virginia, and we sought harbour at Nancemund, and lay there some weeks for needful repairs on the sloop, which was also provisioned afresh for her further voyage.

It was then the month of February; we had been six months a-journeying, and still the promised land was far away.

This tale of mine, however, bids fair to spin itself at too great length, so I must hasten on to the story of our captivity.

In spite of fairly good weather on our way southward we somehow over pa.s.sed the lat.i.tude of Port Royal harbour; and of a Sat.u.r.day in May--the fifteenth day of the month--we did cast anchor at a little isle upon the coast, in order to obtain wood and water for the sloop's needs.

This island is within the territory of the Spaniards, who have named it Santa Catalina. It lies some days' journey north of San Augustin,--the exact lat.i.tude I know not, although I have heard it more times than one; but there are some things that abide never in a woman's brain.

Here appeared many Indians, who seemed at first not unfriendly, and spoke words of welcome to us in the Spanish tongue.

Much trading was done aboard the sloop, and the barbarians appeared strangely content with strings of paltry beads and the cast-off garments of the crew, giving in their stead good provender, and skins of the wild deer dressed soft and fine.

The second day of our stay, Mr. Rivers, with the s.h.i.+p's master and three seamen, went ash.o.r.e with such stuff as the Indians desire, to trade for pork and other provisions; and it being a Monday morn, Dame Barbara did crave leave to take her was.h.i.+ng and go with them, in the hope of finding a softer water to cleanse the linen.

It was early morning; the breeze from the land blew sweet and fragrant, and the woods beyond the sandy beach bourgeoned in new leaf.a.ge, green and tender. I longed for the scent of the warm earth, and the tuneful courting of bird-lovers in the thicket; so I prayed my uncle to let me go ash.o.r.e with the dame. He acceded willingly enough; but Mr. Rivers, who is always over-anxious where my safety is concerned, counselled me earnestly not to leave the s.h.i.+p.

I was ever a headstrong maid, and the suns.h.i.+ne and the scent of far-off flowers had set me nearly wild with longing; so I chid him roundly for his caution and merrily warned him to beware how he sought to clip the wings of a free bird. Go I did, therefore, though he smiled and shook his head at me; and when we all parted company at the watering-place he seemed uneasy still, and, looking backward over his shoulder as I waved farewell, entreated me to wander no farther from the sh.o.r.e.

The little spring where they had left us welled up, cold and clear, at the foot of a tall cypress-tree, and trickled thence in a tiny stream, a mere thread of crystal, that tangled itself in the low bush and wound its way helplessly through the level wooded country, as though seeking for some gentle slope that would lead it to the sea.

The dame rinsed her linen till it fairly shone, and spread it out to dry in a sunny nook; while I lay p.r.o.ne on the warm earth and stirred up the damp brown leaves that had drifted into a tiny hollow, and found beneath them a wee green vine with little white star-flowers that blinked up at the sun and me. And I dreamed of the new home we would make for ourselves in this far country, and of the very good and docile wife I would be to my dear love. Then at last,--because I grew aweary at the prospect of my very great obedience in the future, and because, too, I thought it was high time my gallant gentleman came back to ask me how I did,--up from the ground I started, rousing the dame from a sweet nap.

"Look, Barbara! the linen is dry; the sun is on its westering way, and the shadows grow longer and longer.--'Tis very strange that Mr. Rivers and the master have not returned!"

"Mayhap they have clean forgot us and gone back to the s.h.i.+p alone,"

moaned the old woman, rubbing her sleepy eyes and beginning at once to croak misfortune, after the manner of her cla.s.s.