The Muses’ Darling – Chapter 11

It’s Marlowe Month again and we’ve reached Chapter 11. I must admit that my proofreader hasn’t had time to check through this. Therefore, with many apologies for any howling errors, I am taking the advice of Upstart Crow’s Kit Marlowe to “chuck it on as is”! I am certain that the real Christopher Marlowe agonised over each word before it reached the stage, but real life and comedy are so often poles apart!

The portrait of Sir Francis Walshingham, Queen Elizabeth I’s Spymaster, is the featured image and was painted by Jacobus Houbraken.

Marlowe Month will return early next year. In the meantime, you can find the previous chapters of The Muses’ Darling, via these links:

The Photograph (mini biography), The New Playwright (Chapter 1), The Journey to Canterbury (Chapter 2), Back Home in Canterbury (Chapter 3), A Wet Monday (Chapter 4), A Double Surprise (Chapter 5), The Gifts (Chapter 6), One Day Leads to Another (Chapter 7), An
Eventful Weekend (Chapter 8), A
Tour of the Kent Countryside (Chapter 9), An Unexpected Disclosure (Chapter 10)

The Muses’ Darling

Chapter 11

An Overnight Stay in Rainham

At 7:30 a.m. the next day, Matthew Abbing was given a call by one of the Scadbury Manor staff and told he was expected in Sir Francis Walsingham’s office at 8:00 a.m. and would be escorted there for a chat in private. Matthew leapt out of bed, rushing so as not to be late for the appointment and was ready and waiting by 7:55 a.m. when his escort arrived at his door.

Entering the office, Matthew was greeted by Sir Francis who was seated at his desk and indicating the chair opposite. Matthew sat down feeling rather nervous, having no idea what to expect but feeling sure it would be a reprimand at least. Therefore, he was surprised to find that Sir Francis was affability itself.

“Good morning, Matthew. I hope you slept well last night.”

Yes, Sir. Thank you.

“Good. Now I have asked you here at this early hour to establish exactly what you overheard at the Rainham inn.”

“Much as I told you yesterday, Sir.”

“Would you go over it all again, please, just to refresh my memory?”

“Well, basically, I heard a group of people at a nearby table talking about assassinating the queen, and mentioning Rochester Castle, which seems to be the place it would take place. I think the landlord is party to the plot, but his brother in Rochester wants nothing to do with it.”

“Is there anything else you remember? Were they speaking quietly? Did you get a look at any of the group, if only a glimpse, and did they speak about being Catholics?”

“They were speaking at a normal volume, but they were at a table in an alcove so it was difficult to hear all their conversation, especially as the inn was very noisy. I did notice that at some points they were talking in Latin. I spent years studying this at school and university but am not very fluent in the language so may have missed some crucial details they obviously wanted to keep secret. I didn’t see them all very clearly but would recognise three of them again. None was very outstanding, but one has short light brown hair a beard and is of slim build. The other two looked alike, perhaps brothers. Both had shoulder-length dark hair and were wearing identical blue doublets and grey breeches. And no, I didn’t hear the Catholic religion mentioned but, as I said, it was difficult to hear but I sure that they are planning an assassination, and I am very keen to help overturn this plot.”

“With such little information, I can’t assume that a plot is afoot till I know more, Mattew. I shall speak to you further about this over breakfast, when Thomas and Kit are there to offer their views.”

“Yes, I understand, Sir, and if there is anything I can do to help you gain more information, I am happy to do so.”

“Yes, you may well be required but, I shall let you know fuller details soon. Although I am somewhat displeased with the way you were stalking Kit, I realise that it was with good intentions, so am going to give you a second chance but you must, and I emphasise MUST, obey orders and not work on your own till you are fully trained. Kit will be training you. He is a first-class intelligencer, fluent in Latin and with enough experience to make decisions based on the information available. I want you to learn from him and always obey him. Kit will report back fully to me on your progress or otherwise. Is that understood?

“Yes, Sir, and thank you. I have been so worried that you would not want to continue to employ me.”

“As I said, you have a second chance. Don’t squander it, Matthew, and keep me informed either directly in person, but preferably via Kit, of all developments.”

“Yes, I will, Sir. I am very sorry and have learned my lesson.”

The gong sounded, announcing the serving of breakfast. Sir Francis and Matthew walked to the dining room where they found Kit and Thomas enjoying a joke together. As breakfast proceeded, the spymaster informed each of his guests of their duties over the next 48 hours. Thomas was to have an equine Friday, with responsibility for riding Tamburlaine to and from the blacksmith’s and establishing the value of the horse. Matthew and Kit were to travel separately to Rainham where Kit would stay at the Apple Tree, spending time drinking in the bar, preferably at a window seat, in an attempt to gather more information about the plotters. Matthew was to stay at the inn opposite, requesting a room at the front, the idea being that it would overlook the Apple Tree. If his request was denied he would need to linger outside till he saw one or two of the plotters entering the Apple Tree then, using a secret signal, communicate the news to Kit. They would each spend the night at the separate inns and unless there were significant developments requiring their stays to be extended, they would set off back to Scadbury on Saturday morning, half an hour apart. Unless circumstances indicated it, they would not acknowledge each other, though Kit would approach Matthew if this situation changed.

After breakfast and with a farewell to Tamburlaine and Thomas, Kit set off for Rainham, riding a chestnut horse called Chestnut.

“What a coincidence – a chestnut horse called Chestnut” Kit had told the ostler who laughed and said that he’d heard that joke before – countless times.

“I must be losing my originality”, Kit quipped. Anyway, I shall take good care of Chestnut and bring him back safely tomorrow.”

Kit arrived in Rainham towards lunchtime and made a beeline for The Apple Tree. He noted that the inn opposite was called The Swan, and was impressed by the precise and accurate directions Matthew had given him of the whole route, being keen to praise him for this later. Although he didn’t relish training this apparently inept recruit (‘What was Sir Francis thinking of?’ Kit asked himself), he was prepared to give him the best chance of becoming a full member of the team, and believed in giving credit where due, though he would not let him get away with any acts of folly.

Having stabled Chestnut and tipped the stable boy, who promised to give the horse his best care and attention, Kit entered the inn and booked a room for the night, left his luggage in the neat and sunny room, then made his way down for lunch, seating himself by the window around the time Matthew arrived at the Swan. He thought the chances of a midday meeting of the plotters was slim but was prepared, just in case they did arrive. He had an outline of the appearances of three of the five from Matthew and would keep his eyes and ears open for any hint of their arrival.

On his ride from Scadbury, Matthew had had time to think about his conversation with Sir Francis that morning. He wasn’t too sure if he wanted to be trained by this man he had been following, and who had taken exception to it. However, he had kept his thoughts to himself and had agreed with a nod and a smile to Sir Francis, relieved he would not have to undergo any punishment or even dismissal. He needed the money to complete his MA and this job also held promise of excitement. He even wondered whether he could get on the right side of Christopher Marlowe and even become friends with him. He would see how things between them turned out on their first assignment together, as a starter.

After lunch, when there was a lull in custom, Kit took the opportunity to chat to the innkeeper, Ned, and by introducing Rochester into the conversation learned that the man did have an older brother, Sam, who owned an inn there. They had originally run it together, taking over from their father, but had gone their separate ways when Sam had married soon after Ned had become engaged to a girl whose family owned the Apple Tree. He elaborated a little on his family’s inn, which had been opened by their grandfather in 1515, and had named it the Red Fox after his surname Reddington and their grandmother’s maiden name, Fox. It had always been earmarked for Sam, so Ned held no grudge and was happy in Rainham with his wife and young family.

Deciding that he could elicit no more without arousing suspicion, Kit took his leave and set off to bump into Matthew, apparently by chance but not in reality. This happened on cue, and while Kit pretended to ask this perfect stranger for directions, he updated Matthew on developments in a form of code. He told him he intended to sit by the left side window seat from an early hour. As Matthew was staying in a room overlooking The Apple Tree, he would signal to Kit if any of the plotters he recognised went through the inn door.

Matthew returned to his room at The Swan, seating himself on a chair near the window – a perfect vantage point for overseeing all comings and goings at The Apple Tree. Kit had taken a circuitous route back and spent the afternoon in his room working on notes for his next play. As soon as he heard increased sounds from downstairs, he made his way to the bar, ordered a glass of wine which, he was assured, was the produce of Kent grapes. He took it to the window seat and noticed Matthew at his post – he was sure he could be seen but gave his trainee the silent signal, receiving the same back. Kit ordered a meal and was just finishing the first course when Matthew signalled that two of the plotters had entered the Apple Tree. Kit acknowledged this with the secret sign. He watched the two men walk to a table in the nearby alcove, where Matthew had first encountered them, and prepared to listen. At that point there was nothing of note, just exchange of family news. Then two others joined them, followed by a fifth a couple of minutes later. The last to arrive sat at the end of the table and was partly within view but wishing to keep a low profile, Kit averted his gaze and concentrated on eavesdropping. Before long, questions about how the plans were going ensued. The inn began to fill up and the conversation was becoming less audible. Suddenly, Kit found himself overhearing a chat in Latin from the alcove – or was it chatting? No, one of them seemed to be reading from a document with references to the queen, or a queen as this was sometimes followed by what appeared to be the name Revecu which in turn had associations with disloyalty to the empire which was punishable by death. Kit found this puzzling as at no time was Queen Elizabeth mentioned by name, but some plot was afoot it seemed. Reverting to English, the men openly mentioned Rochester Castle and hoping the weather would be fine. Kit found all this puzzling but hoped that further eavesdropping would fill in the missing gaps in his limited knowledge. The dip into Latin had an almost theatrical feel to it but where was all this heading?

Having finished his meal, Kit sat back to listen harder. At this point, a voice from the fifth man in the alcove shocked him:

“Kit Marlowe, as I live and breathe!”

Kit sat up, wondering how he had been recognised but as the man walked towards him, he realised he looked familiar. Older than when they had both attended the King’s School, he found himself staring at John Dale.

“Well, this is a surprise – the star pupil of our old school! How are you, Kit?

“Fine, John, and you?”

“I’m fine too, thanks – out for a drink with friends. Why don’t you join us?”

Kit could hardly believe his ears, and readily agreed. Taking his glass of wine with him, and giving Matthew a quick signal, he followed John to the alcove, where he was introduced to Robert Fairley, Thomas Silbrook, Anthony Goodson and Nicholas Denville. John introduced his former schoolmate as “Christopher Marlowe, known to all as Kit, the author of the two Tamburlaine plays”.

All nodded with impressive looks on their faces and told Kit how pleased they were to meet him.

“So, are you currently working on a play, Kit?” John asked.

“Yes, it’s in the formation stage and I want to finish the first draft then asked the actor who played Tamburlaine whether he would be interested in playing this new character.”

“Sounds exciting”

“Yes, but also nerve-wracking.”

The conversation drifted into theatre life – a far cry from the reason Kit was in the Apple Tree but he went with it. However, it soon became apparent that he was among like-minded people as all five companions were playwrights, albeit amateur. Each had written dramas, but none had ever had their works staged and they had decided to get together to produce a play to be performed at Rochester Castle to celebrate Queen Elizabeth’s 55^th birthday on 7^th September. Each had contributed scenes and they had worked together and finished the invented story the previous year. They had then spent time seeking and finally receiving permission from the Queen herself to perform this play at Rochester Castle and there was a possibility that she herself would welcome seeing it at Hampton Court in the late autumn. Although John had had some acting experience from his days at school and a couple of parts in  plays put on by family and friends for Christmas celebrations, the others were writers only. However, they had managed to put together a cast of capable amateur actors who lived in the area. Rehearsals were in progress, but the finer points of the production were still in discussion. John was hoping Kit could give them some helpful tips and produced a copy of the script and asked him if he would read it.

“Yes, definitely, but I’ll need time to go through it so may I borrow it overnight and meet you back here at lunchtime tomorrow?” All readily agreed but it was decided that just one of them would meet. John volunteered, relishing the chance to chat further to his former school friend.

Kit flicked through the script and gathered it was set in Ancient Rome with a fictitious Queen Revecu as the central character.

“I’m intrigued,” he told his new friends. “Tell me more about the background to this.”

“It was Anthony’s idea,” John explained, nodding to him.

“What inspired you?” Kit asked.

“I was thinking back to schooldays – I attended Maison Dieu in Ospringe and studied Latin which I always enjoyed.

“Me too,” Kit agreed, adding “And would you believe this, my father is a Maison Dieu ‘old boy’, but he would have left by the time you started there. He received a good education, but wanted better for me.”

“The King’s School has a very good reputation across Kent. You and John are credits to the place.”

“Thank you. Anyway, how did you set about writing this play?”

“I wrote an outline of the main characters and plot, then asked John if he thought it viable to write a play from that. He agreed and we started it together but it wasn’t progressing well, and so we called in reinforcements! Our paths had all crossed in the past, mostly here in the The Apple Tree!

Kit was intrigued by the storyline and told the assembled company that it had already claimed his attention. He told them to continue with their discussions, if they were happy for him to listen in. They in turn were delighted and asked him to add any points of use and to correct any ideas which would not work. Kit was in his element, and between the six of them they set out a plan for the staging of the play, which included Kit’s suggestion that all lines in Latin be translated by an actor speaking to a servant who was lacking in an in-depth knowledge of the language. This would help audience members who were not familiar with Latin, while not making them feel inferior. It would be the servant who was considered ignorant!

“Clever thinking”, said Anthony/.

“Pleasing the audience is the key to any production,” replied Kit. “That is, if you want to entice them back in the future.”

“We’ll have to see how well this one works out before we look ahead”, put in Robert.

Kit laughed, adding, “I am sure it will all go well.”

“Wait till you read it,” said Nicholas. “You may want to alter your opinion then and if so, please be honest with us.”

“I shall definitely be honest,” said Kit. “There’s no point in letting something through if it can be improved and I am a great critic of my own work and want it as perfect as possible, so have made changes when one of the actors in my plays has made a very good suggestion.”

The conversation drifted on to areas of Rochester Castle which would be most useful for each scene and how to move the audience from one room to another, so no one missed any of the action. It was an adventurous plan, Kit had to admit, but seemed likely to succeed with  good planning.

A couple of hours rolled by before the group decided to order their final drinks and then make their way home. By this time, Ned had joined them for a tankard of ale after a busy Friday evening serving a continual stream of customers.

“I have a few walk-on parts in this play”, announced Ned proudly. “Didn’t want a speaking part – would have to learn too many words and I’m not good at that. So, walking on stage and walking off again is ideal for me. My brother Sam refused to take part as he doesn’t like the idea of appearing in public, but his son is going to be the young prince, son of Queen Revecu” and he has a few words to say.”

As Ned walked back to his post behind the bar, John and Kit confirmed their meeting in the alcove for noon the next day, with his old schoolmate asking Kit not to order any food as the meal would be his way of showing gratitude for the help with the play.

Kit waited for the group to leave, then made his way back to the still-vacant window seat and signalled to Matthew to join him. Five minutes later with drinks in their hands, Kit gave his trainee a deliberately vague outline of the events of the evening, omitting to tell him there was no plot but a play in the making. He was keen to tell Sir Francis first about this whole episode but did advise Matthew to set off for Scadbury the next morning. Having hastily written a note to Sir Francis, which briefly explained that he would be staying on till the afternoon to follow up a lead, but would be back in time for dinner, Kit asked Matthew to hand it to the spymaster as soon as possible on his return. They then parted, with Kit promising an update when they met again at Scadbury.

Once in his room, Kit lit two candles and settled down to read the script, but then decided that daylight and a fresher mind in the morning might be the better way to acquaint himself with this drama. He pushed the chair against the door handle, sought the relative comfort of the inn’s bed and while waiting for sleep to overcome him, began to wonder if would-be playwrights had become the theme for this trip to Kent – first Richard, now John and friends. What next? ‘Not Matthew as a budding playwright, I hope – don’t think I could take on that aspect of training with him as well.’ With that thought he fell asleep, waking as the sunlight drifted through the gap in the curtains and giving him a few hours to go through the play.

By noon he was at the alcove table, ale in hand, script on the table, with some notes laying on top. His luggage was at his side, and he had made sure Chestnut would be ready to leave at any time. John arrived and embraced Kit who immediately offered to buy him a drink.

“Only on condition you accept my offer of a meal – at my house, cooked by my wife”.

“That’s too good an offer to refuse”.

“Well, that’s decided then, and we’ll set off once we’ve finished our drinks.”

“I must check on my horse first”, said Kit.

“Bring him with you – he can share the stable with my horse, Silver. The house comes with a big field and a few outhouses so there will be plenty of room for him and he can share Silver’s hay.”

“That sounds wonderful, said Kit. “But let me pay you for the hay at least.”

“Wouldn’t hear of it,” John told him as he downed the final drops of ale and the pair stood up, and bidding Ned farewell, they set off to collect Chestnut.

John’s house was only a five-minute walk away, so Silver and Chestnut were soon getting to know each other, amid a big pile of hay.

John’s wife, Margaret, welcomed Kit warmly and soon had the meal on the table. Their two children Edward and Joan were quiet and well behaved, while their parents and Kit conversed. John told Kit that after leaving the King’s school he had taken an apprenticeship as an engraver, under the tutorship of the silversmith, Anthony Goodson, and the two became good friends. Kit vaguely remembered that John had always had beautiful handwriting, so engraving seemed the perfect job for him. John then went on to reveal that Robert and Thomas also worked together as tailors. They were cousins, who had taken over the shop owned jointly by their fathers, learning the skill of making clothes from the two brothers. Nicholas was the town crier and worked in all weathers to bring the news to Rainham’s residents.

Kit told them of his days at university and his subsequent luck of having Tamburlaine the Great performed at the only playhouse south of the Thames, which had opened the previous year. Of course, he made no mention of the spy ring, his walk round Rochester Castle and the fire and food discovery, but did chat about his visit to his family, the birth of his friends’ twins and the engraved silver baptismal gift he gave his godson.

After the meal the old boys of Canterbury’s King’s School pored over the script and the notes Kit had made and John said he would pass them all on to his fellow playwrights. They met every Friday evening at the Apple Tree so there would be something positive to discuss next time. Secretly, Kit was keen for Sir Francis to see this script as proof that no plot was afoot.

“John, do you happen to have a spare copy of this script which I could borrow? I had to rush through it this morning to get the gist of the play but would dearly like to read it again at a more leisurely pace. I think I may be able to improve the Latin,” he said knowing full well that he had already done so in note form, safely stored in the inner pocket of his doublet.

Yes, we made a few copies, so we have two each. I’ll get the other one for you now.”

Having looked through it quickly, Kit then made ready to leave, with a promise to keep in touch and to return the script on his next visit to Kent. He felt sure there would be more stays at Scadbury in the near future and he could make a day trip to Rainham to return the document. Meanwhile, he had provisionally accepted an invitation to the debut of the play, hoping to be free to spend a few days in Kent in early September.

With a wave from atop his borrowed horse, Kit set off, arriving at Scadbury Manor as the sun was getting low in the sky. He was pleased to find Tamburlaine back at the stables, with new shoes, and giving a whinny of delight at seeing him. Kit patted his neck, hoping this horse would soon be his but would have to find out whether Sir Francis was happy with the blacksmith’s valuation and prepared to pay the amount estimated.

He made his way to the house, and slipped a note under the door Sir Francis used as an office to let him know he would be joining them all for dinner that evening. It had been a long day, and Kit knew it would be late before he could get any sleep as he had much to tell Sir Francis, and that would be in privacy, once the others had left the dinner table.

© Chasqui Penguin, 2023

X/Twitter: @ChasquiPenguin