Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Margaret Tudor: A Romance of Old St. Augustine

Annie T. Colcock




  Produced by Suzanne Shell, Stephen Blundell and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  THE STORY OF MARGARET TUDOR

  MARGARET TUDOR.]

  MARGARET TUDOR

  _A Romance of Old St. Augustine_

  By ANNIE T. COLCOCK

  _Illustrated by_ W. B. GILBERT

 

  NEW YORK . FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY . PUBLISHERS

  COPYRIGHT, 1901, BY FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY

  _All rights reserved_

  Transcriber's Note:

  Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. The oe ligature is shown as [oe].

  "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 God 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 passenger list of the_Carolina_, as given in the Shaftesbury Papers (Collections of the SouthCarolina 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 embassy of Mr. Collins; and (page 204) theMemorial to the Spanish Ambassador touching the delivery of theprisoners, one of whom is alluded to as _Margaret_, presumably MargaretTudor.

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

  ANNIE T. COLCOCK.

  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 seemsscant likelihood that it will come to a speedy close,--altho', being ingood health myself, and of an age when hope dies slowly, I despair notof recovering both liberty and friends. Yet, in the event of our furtherdetention, of sickness or any other evil that may befall me--and thereis one threatening--I write these pages of true history, praying thatthey may some time reach the hand of my guardian and uncle, Dr. WilliamScrivener, if he be still alive and dwelling in these parts. Should theychance, instead, to meet the eyes of some friendly-disposed person ofEnglish blood and Protestant faith, to whom the name of WilliamScrivener is unknown, I beseech him to deliver them to any personsailing with the sloop _Three Brothers_, which did set out from theIsland of Barbadoes on the 2nd of November last,--being in the hire ofSir Thomas Colleton, and bearing freight and passengers for theseshores.

  If the sloop has suffered some misadventure (as I fear is notunlikely,--either at the hands of the Spaniards, or else of the Indiansof these parts, who do show themselves most unfriendly to allEnglishmen, being set on to mischief by the Spanish friars), then I praythat word may be forwarded to his Lordship, the Duke of Albemarle, andothers of the Lords Proprietors who did commission and furnish a fleetof 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, seeingthat his kinsman, Mr. John Rivers, is here detained a prisoner in sorrystate, laden with chains in the dungeon of the Castle--for which may Godforgive me, I being in some degree to blame; and yet, since it hathpleased Heaven to grant me the fair face that wrought the mischief, Ihold myself the less guilty and grieve the more bitterly, inasmuch as Ilove him with a maid's true love and would willingly give my life tospare him hurt.

  If it were so that I might give the true narrative of our presentplight, and how it fell about, without cumbering the tale with mentionof my own name, it would please me best; but as those who read it may bestrangers, I would better tell my story from the start.

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

  And so it fell about that,--my mother having gone to her rest,--I didtake passage with my uncle, Dr. William Scrivener, on board the_Carolina_, with intent to stop at Barbadoes and make some search for mypoor father in the hope that he yet lived.

  Among the passengers of the _Carolina_ was Lord Ashley's kinsman andagent, Mr. John Rivers, of whom I can find naught to say that seemsfitting; for although it may hap that in this great world there areother men of a countenance as fine, a mien as noble, and a heart asbrave 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 ofpirates, in peril of tempests, and in long hours of golden calm when thewaters burned blue around us and the wide heaven shone pale and clearover our heads. And in all that time we came to know one another passingwell; and Mr. Rivers heard my father's story and promised to aid us inour search.

  It was October when we reached Barbadoes and landed. Of the news that weobtained, and the strange chance that brought it to our ears, it isneedless here to speak. Let it suffice that my dear father did notsuffer long, as death soon freed him from his bondage.

  We had no further cause to detain us in Barbadoes, so we yielded to thepersuasions of Mr. Rivers that we should continue with the expedition toPort Royal; and, in November, we set sail once more in the _ThreeBrothers_, a sloop hired to replace the _Albemarle_, which, inconsequence of a broken cable, had been driven ashore in a gale and lostupon the rocks.

  From now on, for the truth's sake, I must needs tell somewhat of myintercourse with Mr. Rivers. It may seem I am lacking in a propermodesty if I declare that, even then, there was more than friendshipbetwixt us. But surely there were reasons enough and to spare. That Ishould 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 properage and gentle condition, I suppose it was in nature that he should makethe best of the little society he had. But nay, I would be false to myown faith if I doubted that it was foreordained of Heaven that we shouldcome together and love one another.

  It is true that I did not make confession of this belief until I hadtormented my would-be lord with every teasing device that entered intomy brain. But though he was often cast down for hours together, he gaveme 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 notbelieve it," he once said. "Mistress Margaret is too unversed in cityways and shallow coquetries to play a part--and 'tis for that I love herso." And though it angered me to have him praise my innocence andcountry airs, I knew he spoke the truth, and that a time would come whenI would own my love for him. And so it did.

  A terrible storm had raged for eight-and-forty hours. There had beenwild, black, awful nights,
and sullen days when the gray curtains of thesky were torn asunder and whirled over us in inky folds, their tatteredfringes lashing up the seas, and whipping our frail bark till it skulkedand cowered, like a beaten cur that looks in vain for mercy. We haddrifted northward far from our course, our two consorts had disappeared,and we had well-nigh given up hope, when with the dawning of the thirdday the wind lulled, and through the ragged clouds we saw the blue archof heaven high above us.

  I had climbed out upon the deck alone; and from a sheltered corner I sawthe sun rise and gild a far-off strip of shore that lay to west of us.It seemed a vision of a new heaven and a new earth, and I gave Godthanks. Then a hand touched mine, and a voice whispered my name--andother words that need not be recorded here; and I could answer nothingin denial, for the reason that my heart was too full.