there is any further change, 'for wee are greatlie aferd of Theobalds'. On the 12th there had been no change as yet and Hicks had better come to court for advice. There was still danger of Theobalds, 'but as yett it is not sett downe'. With a sigh, Maynard adds, 'This progresse much trowbleth mee, for that we knowe not what corse the Queen will take'. On the 15th he can at last announce that no change was now expected. He had told the Lord Chamberlain that Hicks was troubled at the insufficient accommodation he could provide for the royal train. 'His awnsweare was that you weare unwise to be at anie such charge: but onelie to leave the howse to the Quene: and wished that theare might be presented to hir Majestie from your wief sum fine wastcoate, or fine ruffe, or like thinge, which he said would be acceptablie taken as if it weare of greate price.' Maynard was still anticipating a descent on Theobalds, although nothing had been said about it.[1] As a matter of fact, his anticipation was justified, and Theobalds was visited in the course of September. In 1599 there was a scare lest the short progress planned should be extended, 'by reason of an intercepted letter, wherein the giving over of long voyages was noted to be sign of age'.[2]
Contact with the great is not ordinarily, for the plain man, a bed of roses; and there is no reason to suppose that it was otherwise in the spacious times of Elizabeth. You probably got knighted, if you were not a knight already, which cost you some fees, and you received some sugared royal compliments on the excellence of your entertainment and the appropriateness of your 'devices'. But you had wrestled for a month with poulterers and with poets. You had 'avoided' your house, and made yourself uncomfortable in a neighbouring lodge. You had seen your trim gardens and terraces encamped upon by a locust-swarm of all the tag-rag and bobtail that follows a court. And with your knowledge of that queer streak in the Tudor blood, you had been on tenterhooks all the time lest at some real or fancied dislike the royal countenance might become clouded, and the compliments give way to a bitter jest or to open railing. 'I have had hitherto a troublesome progress,' writes Cecil to Parker in 1561, 'to stay the Queen's majesty from daily offence conceived against the clergy, by reason of the undiscreet behaviour of the readers and ministers in these countries of
