depended on intellectual, not physical, prowess. Determined to make his mark as both warrior and scholar, he sought out his friend John Lyly at the Boar's Head Tavern.
After swearing him to secrecy regarding their youthful escapades together, Edward hired the young poet as his personal secretary. Acting on Lyly's advice, he commissioned a translation of Balthasar Castiglioine's "The Courtier." Edward wrote an eloquent preface to this book in which he dedicated the work to Elizabeth. Edward then applied for permission to present a dedication copy of "The Courtier" to the Queen. His request was granted.
On the appointed day, Edward stood in Whitehall Palace's Great Hall. He was part of a line numbering some 150 other supplicants, each patiently waiting to address the Queen. Peering over their heads, Edward could see Elizabeth seated imperiously on her high-backed golden throne atop a small stage surrounded by guards and attendants.
In his hand the Earl held a dedication copy of "The Courtier" bound with scarlet ribbons. As he surveyed the vast room, state trumpets sounded loudly. His thoughts drifted back to the first time he'd met the yellow-haired Queen.
-:-:-
Edward always recalled his early childhood in idyllic images. One glittering highlight had been Elizabeth's arrival at Castle Hedingham. England's energetic new ruler was fond of visiting her wealthier subjects. Such "royal progresses" provided a welcome relief from squabbling politicians. They also allowed the ever-thrifty monarch to be entertained in her noblemen's ancestral castles at their expense.
In 1561, John was awarded the extremely costly honor of keeping Elizabeth amused for 5 days. He prepared to welcome her with giant banners, loud trumpets, and a rich panoply of color and pageantry.
-:-:-
The moment the Queen's caravan was sighted, Edward scrambled up the spiral staircase's stone steps to Castle Hedingham's highest turret. From this vantage point, he watched Elizabeth, mounted on a magnificent white charger, leading her retinue towards the castle's steep driveway.
John and Margery stood together on the moat's bridge. As the Queen rode into view, they stepped forward, smiling and waving a greeting. John's trumpeters sounded a loud fanfare.
Acknowledging their salute with a raised hand, Elizabeth turned her horse up the steep driveway. Armed guards stood shoulder to shoulder, lining both sides of the road. Each wore the Earl of Oxford's distinctive livery with its bright crest, a silver five-pointed star. The two rows of burly men stretched back towards London as far as the eye could see. A second loud fanfare sounded as Elizabeth rode across the bridge spanning the moat and entered the castle.
In addition to the usual hunting, feasting, and musical recitals, the Earl was relying on his players to make the Queen's visit to Castle Hedingham especially memorable. They had been busily rehearsing a popular rustic farce for weeks.
Entitled, "A Country Bridal," this comedy was staged on the penultimate evening of the Queen's visit. A platform stage had been erected in the Castle's Banqueting Hall. Guards with lighted torches stood beside it to provide illumination. John, Margery, and their guests settled down as the farce began.
Soon Elizabeth, seated in a place of honor on stage, was leading the audience in gales of hearty laughter. Burghley sat to one side, refusing to join in the general amusement. He preferred to spend his evening eyeing John's home and royal favor enviously.
The sixteenth Earl, for his part, treated Burghley with aristocratic disdain. In John's eyes, the minister was nothing more than a bureaucratic upstart who belonged downstairs with his servants.
After the play, John thanked the players and announced that his son would now recite a poem the boy had written in honor of Elizabeth's visit. Gazing shyly at Elizabeth with fascinated admiration, Edward rose from his seat and took the stage.
He unfurled a manuscript. His feet fidgeted under him. A passionate intensity filled the young Earl's face.
Taking several deep breaths, he lifted the manuscript and began reading:
"Her hair of gold, her front of ivory
A gentle heart within so white a breast
Her teeth of pearl, lips ruby, crystal eye,
Needs must I honor her above the rest:
Since she is formed of none other mold,
But ruby, crystal, ivory, pearl, and gold."
Edward bowed deeply. Straightening-up, he stepping forward and presented the manuscript to Elizabeth along with his best bow. The young Queen received the poem with a gracious smile and pronounced it, "Splendid." The room broke into loud applause.
Edward flashed a mischievous grin. Suddenly, to everyone's astonishment, the young Earl sprung forward, jumped up onto the royal lap and kissed Elizabeth full on the lips. There was a moment of stunned silence before the Queen laughed, clearly delighted with her tiny, blushing poet.
That night, musicians played a bombastic march as fireworks arched over the castle's battlements, dazzling onlookers before falling to earth. The Queen watched from a high window, the delighted Edward still at her side.
-:-:-
The next day dawned clear and bright. Elizabeth asked Edward to show her his favorite local sights. Soon, their mounts were descending the steep driveway towards a large fishpond.
As they ambled peacefully along, Edward entertained Elizabeth with a story about the fishpond. A secret tunnel led down to its banks from deep inside the castle's walls. Centuries earlier, during one particularly lengthy siege, his ancestors, who traversed the tunnel to fish regularly, had rained their catch down on the besiegers' heads. Demoralized by this humiliating demonstration of their inability to starve the Oxfords into submission, the attackers had marched off in search of less formidable targets.
Elizabeth was delighted with Edward's story. By now, the narrow trail had led them to a broad, flat meadow. Elizabeth halted her horse, sucking in the scent of wildflowers. Above them, birds annoyed by their intrusion, began calling loudly.
"Shall we gallop?" asked the Queen.
"By all means, your Majesty," Edward replied. Placing his riding crop sideways in his mouth, he gathered up the reins and prepared to apply his spurs.
"Edward, why do you bite your crop so?"
Edward lifted the crop from his jaw. "My father taught me the trick, your Majesty. It stops my teeth rattling around. Once we were racing each other and in the excitement, I forgot to keep my jaw clenched. My mount stumbled, jarring me, and smashing my teeth together."
"That must have hurt."
"It did indeed. I thought I'd bitten my tongue off; the pain was terrible. So now I bite into my crop to keep my teeth clamped together."
"What a good idea. I once chipped a tooth in a similar mishap." The Queen placed her riding crop sideways in her mouth. Grinning like a child, she kicked her horse into motion and raced off across the sunny meadow. Edward urged his horse after her. Startled hares scrambled out of their path.
In the excitement of her headlong gallop, Elizabeth quickly discovered that she enjoyed clamping down on her riding crop. Carrying her crop in her mouth, somewhat like a leather bit, became a habit whenever she rode fast. It was of course, a custom the Queen dispensed with as undignified in sight of visiting ambassadors
