Edward Marston - The Queen's Head

The Queen chose the splendid Richmond Palace for the Christmas festivities and it was hoped that they would bring some cheer into a royal life which had narrowed considerably throughout the autumn. A full programme of music, dance and drama had been arranged for her. The Loyal Subject was the first play she would see and it was due to be given on the day after Christmas. Its theme had a particular relevance in Armada year.

The rehearsal period approached its climax. Place your head in the middle of the block, lad!'

'I am trying to, Master Firethom.'

'Hurry, you knave, or I will use the axe myself!'

Lawrence Firethorn was working on his own execution.

Nicholas Bracewell had devised the effect and he was there to supervise it. Edmund Hoode watched nervously from the corner of the room. He still had reservations about the whole thing.

The Loyal Subject opened with the trial scene in which the noble hero, Lorenzo, was condemned to death. Taken off to await his unjust fate, he delivered his long soliloquy in the prison cell. Gaolers then entered to prepare him for his final hour. Brave to the last, he was led out.

The block was brought on stage and the executioner stood beside it with his axe. When the condemned man reappeared, however, it was not Firethorn. A clever substitution had taken place. John Tallis, much shorter than the actor-manager, came in wearing an identical costume, except that his own head was below the neck of the doublet. A false head had been made, painted and covered with a wig. It bore a striking resemblance to Lorenzo.

When the head was on the block, it was chopped off. Remain quite still, you young rascal!

'Will it hurt, Master Firethorn?' whimpered Tall is.

'That depends what we decide to cut off!'

'Take care, sirs!' wailed the boy.

'Silence!'

'Have no fear, John,' said Nicholas, bending down to position the apprentice behind the block. 'You will not feel a thing.'

'But it is a real axe, Master Bracewell!'

'The weapon is in safe hands, I assure you.'

He turned to the sturdy actor who held the axe ready.

'I'll not hurt you, lad,' promised Ruff.

'But I will!' threatened Firethorn. 'If you dare to move.'

'There is no danger,' continued Nicholas, trying to calm the boy. 'Sam has been practising with that axe for days. We chose him because he is so reliable. Stay exactly where you are, John, and it will be over in a matter of seconds.'

Nicholas stood back and gave the signal. Ruff raised the blade high in the air. When it swished down, it sliced clean through the wax neck and embedded itself in the block. The false head went rolling across the floor with stunning effect.

John Tallis howled from inside the doublet.

'Am I still alive?'

*

Christmas Day began early in London and all the bells of the city tolled out their message of joy. Margery Firethorn was up well before dawn to take charge of the multifarious chores that fell to her and still find time to accompany her family to church for matins. There was great excitement in the house at Shoreditch. Her children were up to savour the wonder of the special day, and they were soon joined by Martin Yeo, John Tallis and Stephen Judd.

Margery could not understand why Richard Honeydew was so tardy. It was his first Christmas with the company and she had done what she could to ensure that he would enjoy it. Troubled by his absence, she went off to find him herself.

'Dick! Wake up, boy! It's Christmas Day!'

Now that the beams in the attic had been replaced, Richard had moved back in there. She puffed up the stairs as fast as she could. Overflowing with seasonal benevolence, she cooed and called all the way to his door.

'Don't lie abed in there, Dick! It's Christmas! Come and see what we have for you! Get up!'

Margery knocked, entered and reacted with horror.

'Lord help us!' she exclaimed.

The bed was empty and the window was wide open.

*

Richmond Palace was a sumptuous Gothic residence that was well situated between Richmond Green and the River Thames. Its skyline of turrets and gilded weather-vanes gave it a romantic image, and it was flanked by gardens and orchards that were planted with hundreds of fruit trees. The palace covered some ten acres in all and had a regular layout round a series of spacious courtyards.

The birthplace of her father, it had not been one of Elizabeth's favourite homes in the early part of her reign. Now, however, she was coming to appreciate the singular charms of a place that she called her warm winterbox. Descending upon it with her household, the Queen filled it with light and noise and colour. She even began to look forward to the Christmas festivities.

Lawrence Firethorn did not share her anticipatory pleasure. Deserted by his female lead on the day before the performance, he rushed around in a frenzy to try to repair the damage. Martin Yeo was once again promoted to royal status in a place of the youngest apprentice and Hugh Wegges had to make hasty alterations to the costumes to accommodate Yeo's greater bulk. A dark shadow had been cast over the long-awaited appearance at Court. The early carefree excitement had now gone out of the event.

The afternoon of December 26th found the company at Richmond for a last rehearsal. There was much anger over Richard Honeydew's disappearance and the upheaval it had caused. Bur one person at least tried to see it from the boy's point of view.

'I feel sorry for him,' said Ruff sadly.

'So do I,' agreed Nicholas.

'He must have been very unhappy to do this.'

'He was.'

'Yet I never thought he would run away like that.'

'I am not sure that he has, Sam.'

'What do you mean?'

'Look at the evidence,' said Nicholas. 'His room was empty. Dick and his belongings had gone. There was a ladder outside the open window.'

'How else can you explain it?'

'People go up ladders as well as down them.'

'So?'

'Dick may have fled,' conceded Nicholas, 'but it is equally possible that someone came in through the window to take him away. I think that he has been abducted.

'By whom?'

'Redbeard's accomplice. The man who has dogged us for months now. I said he would strike when least expected. What better way to hurt us than by kidnapping Dick on the eve of performance?'

Samuel Ruff was bewildered but he had no time to speculate on what might have happened. Lawrence Firethorn called them to order. They were in a crisis once more. It was time to assert his leadership and lift sagging spirits.

'Gentlemen,' he began, 'I do not need to remind you how important this occasion is for Westfield's Men. We have the honour to play before our beloved Queen and the opportunity to enhance our reputation with the highest in the realm. What occurs here this evening will have a bearing on our whole future so we must not be distracted by a minor upset. The loss of Dick Honeydew is unfortunate but it is no more than that. It is but a trifle. With hard work this afternoon, we will make up any leeway and give our new play the performance it deserves!' He raised a fist in a gesture of pride. 'Let us show our true mettle here. Let us prove we are lusty fellows, loyal subjects and the finest actors in London!'

Amid the hubbub, they all raced to their positions.

The play was being presented in the hall, which was a hundred feet long and some forty feet wide. It had an elaborate timber roof with hanging pendants. There was a lantern in the roof over a charcoal fire. The upper parts of the walls had large perpendicular windows with paintings in between of those kings of England who had distinguished themselves on the battlefield. If they had been able to study it, they would have seen that the whole apartment was an architectural wonder.

As it was, they were so preoccupied with their rehearsal that they took little stock of their luxurious surroundings. They performed on a raised platform at one end of the hall. Seating was arranged in tiers on three sides and the royal throne was set up on a dais in front of the stage.