Life of Elizabeth I Read online

  As Christmas approached, Queen and court indulged in a continual merry-go-round of balls, banquets, masques and hunting parties, Elizabeth ignoring the unsavoury things that were being said about her.

  It was fortunate that the Archduke had not yet set out for England, for it was now obvious to de Quadra and Breuner that the Queen had lost interest in marrying him, and they concluded that she was merely using them 'and the other envoys who are sojourning here on matrimonial business'; they guessed that her real purpose in keeping them guessing had been to counteract the threat of French aggression and deceive her own subjects into thinking that she was serious about marrying. 'For as long as we are here, she can put off the vulgar mob who daily beg and implore her to marry, with the plea that she must have leisure to occupy herself with the requests of so many potentates, to the weal and advantage of her realm.'

  In December, Breuner left England, having failed in his mission. He was no nearer to understanding Elizabeth now than he had been at the start, and he imputed her changeable behaviour to her youthful experiences, 'for sometimes she was regarded as legitimate, and at other times not. She has been brought up at court, then sent away, and to crown all she has even been held captive.' Having attained the throne, she could be compared to 'a peasant on whom a barony has been conferred', having become so puffed up with pride that she imagined she could indulge her every whim. 'But here she errs, for if she took my Lord Robert, she will incur so much enmity that she may one evening lay herself down as the Queen of England, and rise the next morning as plain Mistress Elizabeth.'

  Yet it seemed that Elizabeth was indeed contemplating such a step. In January 1560, de Quadra reported that there was ill-feeling among the Queen's subjects at the prospect of her taking Dudley as her consort; he believed they would 'do something to set this crooked business straight. There is not a man who does not cry out on him as the Queen's ruin, and on her with indignation.' It was now believed by all that 'she will marry none but the favoured Robert'.

  In March, there was talk that Dudley might attempt to have his marriage dissolved. Bishop de Quadra had heard him boasting that 'if he lives another year, he will be in a very different position from now. He is laying in a good stock of arms and is every day assuming a more masterful part in affairs. Every day he presumes more and more, and it is now said that he means to divorce his wife.' But, again, the rumours appear to have been baseless, for Dudley took no steps to have his marriage dissolved.

  Early in the new year von Helfenstein returned to England in an attempt to revive the Habsburg marriage negotiations. The King of Bohemia and the Duke of Bavaria, vassals of the Emperor, both sent envoys urging the Queen to reconsider, and suggested to Charles that it might be better if he went and did his courting in person, but the Emperor, offended by Elizabeth's apparent indifference to the match, was now refusing to let his son go to England unless she made some commitment beforehand. A stalemate had been reached, and by February it was obvious that the marriage negotiations had collapsed. On the 19th de Quadra gave it as his opinion that the Queen's strategies would lead to her ruin, because without the support and friendship of the Habsburg monarchies, 'not only will the French despise her, but her own people as well, and she will be left helpless'.

  In February, Elizabeth disposed of her other foreign suitor, who had just succeeded his father as King of Sweden. She wrote on the 25th to tell Erik that, despite being unable to doubt 'the zeal and love of your mind towards us, yet we are grieved that we cannot gratify Your Serene Highness with the same kind of affection'. She protested that she had 'never yet conceived a feeling of that kind affection towards anyone', and begged Erik 'to set a limit to your love, that it advance not beyond the laws of friendship'. She stated firmly that, 'if God ever direct our heart to consideration of marriage, we shall never choose any absent husband, how powerful or worthy a prince soever. I have always given to your brother the same answer, that we do not conceive in our heart to take a husband, but highly commend this single life, and hope that Your Serene Highness will no longer spend time in waiting for me.' In a postscript, she begged him to desist from coming to England, 'since nothing but expectation can happen to Your Serene Highness in that business, and we very greatly fear that your love, which is now so great, might be turned to another alien feeling, which to us would be very grievous'.

  At first, Erik refused to take no for an answer, but as the weeks passed and the Queen showed no sign of relenting,, he reluctantly summoned Duke John home.

  In England many were asking had the way been cleared for Robert Dudley?

  Chapter 5

  'Presumptions of Evil'

  In February 1560, the Duke of Norfolk reached an accommodation with the Protestant lords of Scotland that, in order to prevent the French troops called in by Mary of Guise from taking over that kingdom, Queen Elizabeth would take it under her protection for as long as its rightful Queen remained in France. Shortly afterwards, Elizabeth sent English ships to blockade the Firth of Forth and so prevent arms from France getting through to the Queen Regent's forces. Mary of Guise retaliated, and there was a disastrous confrontation at Leith, where the English were driven back with great loss of life.

  Elizabeth was, not surprisingly, unpopular with the French at this time, and in April, Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, her ambassador in Paris, wrote to warn her of a 'pestilent and horrible device', a plot by the Guise faction to have her poisoned by an Italian called Stephano, 'a burly man with a black beard'. Cecil immediately drafted a memorandum with the heading 'Certain cautions for the Queen's apparel and diet', which was intended to help Elizabeth avoid any danger from poison. 'Do not accept gifts from strangers of perfume or scented gloves, or anything edible,' it warned.

  De Quadra was impressed by the Queen's courage in the face of danger from both France and Scotland. Watching her putting her Neapolitan jennet through its paces with the London trained bands, he observed that she 'made a brave show, and bore herself gallantly'. At around this time, Pope Pills IV sent a letter to Elizabeth enjoining her to return to the Catholic fold, but she gave orders that his messenger was to proceed no further than Brussels. For the rest of her life she would turn a deaf ear to similar overtures from the Vatican.

  On 1 June, Mary of Guise died of dropsy, and the French signified that they were ready to sue for peace. Elizabeth decided to send William Cecil to Scotland to negotiate a treaty with the Scots and French on terms advantageous to England. Throckmorton, hearing of her decision, was worried: without Cecil's restraining hand, the Queen might well do something rash. 'Who can or will stand fast against the Queen's arguments and doubtful devices? Who will speedily resolve the doubtful delays' in decision-making? Elizabeth was notorious already for not making up her mind. 'Who shall make despatch of anything?'

  Cecil himself was reluctant to leave court. He suspected that Dudley had persuaded the Queen to send him to Scotland to get him out of the way, and he was convinced that, once he had left, Dudley would supplant him in the royal counsels. He confided to Throckmorton: 'My journey is to me very strange and diversely judged of. My friends think I am herein betrayed to be sent from the Queen's Majesty.' On another level, he would be relieved to be away from all the backbiting and intrigue at court, which wearied him. Yet when he left for Edinburgh, it was with a heavy heart, for he could see himself being ousted from power during his absence by a man who would surely bring England to speedy ruin, a man to whose name foul rumours were still attaching themselves.

  In June 1560, old Mother Annie Dowe of Brentwood in Essex was fond of repeating to her ignorant cronies the latest gossip from London about the Queen and Dudley. The latter, she had heard, had given Her Majesty a red petticoat.

  A friend, who had also heard rumours, retorted, 'Thinketh thou it was a petticoat? No, no, he gave her a child, I warrant thee.'

  Annie Dowe gleefully repeated this gem of gossip in the next village.

  'My Lord Robert and the Queen have played at legerdemain together', she sai
d meaningfully, 'and he is the father of her child.'

  The astonished villagers responded, 'Why, she hath no child yet.'

  'No, she hath not', concluded Mother Dowe, 'they have put one to making.'

  Her words were reported to the authorities and she was arrested, tried and, in August, sent to gaol. The local magistrates insisted that her case be tried in camera, in order to prevent her scandalous tales from reaching the public's ears. But it was too late: the stories were already circulating beyond Essex, and even ten years later there were persistent rumours that the Queen and Dudley had had a child. One man, Henry Hawkins, was punished for stating that 'My Lord Robert hath five children by the Queen, and she never goeth on progress but to be delivered.' By then, the authorities' patience was wearing thin; over the years many offenders had their ears cut off or suffered the same fate as Mother Dowe for spreading the slanders.

  But even these harsh punishments did not silence the gossip, and ambassadors - particularly those from Spain - coming to England later in the reign heard these tales of royal bastards and believed them. One young man who appeared in Spain in the 1580s claimed to be the son of Elizabeth and Dudley, and King Philip went so far as to verify his claim; it was found to be fraudulent, but many were willing to believe in it, and some still do, even today, despite the evidence against its veracity.

  On 2 July 1560, the war with Scotland was brought to an end by the signing of the Treaty of Edinburgh - for Cecil, a diplomatic triumph, achieved after weeks of tortuous bargaining. Under the terms of the treaty, the French agreed to withdraw from Scotland, leaving the government of that kingdom in the hands of the Scottish council, with the English and French undertaking not to interfere. In the name of Queen Mary, the French commissioners promised that she would renounce all claims to Elizabeth's throne and would cease to quarter the royal arms of England with her own. At last, the French had agreed to recognise Elizabeth as Queen of England. It did seem that a true foundation for peace had been arrived at, and that the threat of war had been removed. More importantly, Elizabeth's prestige had been much enhanced in the eyes of Europe. Cecil was well satisfied with what he had achieved.

  Not so Elizabeth. In a series of letters to Edinburgh, she castigated him for not having secured the return of Calais, or for not forcing the French to reimburse the money she had spent fighting them in Scotland. Cecil's elation soon faded; he believed Dudley was behind her complaints and was out to discredit the Secretary. This might have been the case, but equally well Elizabeth had been pessimistic about the outcome of Cecil's mission, and may have been put out at being proved wrong.

  Elizabeth was, in fact, enjoying the most glorious summer of her life. Freed from the threat of war, she now gave herself over to a season of revelry in the company of Dudley, neglecting her state duties in the process. At the end of July, she left Greenwich to go on progress, travelling by slow stages along the southern shores of the Thames and staying at great houses along the route. Dudley, as Master of the Horse, was much in evidence, but he was also to be seen at Elizabeth's side long after his official duties were done. They rode and hunted nearly every day, Elizabeth choosing the most spirited horses, and in the evenings there would be dancing and music-making. Whereas before she had flirted with other men besides Dudley, she now favoured him with all her attention to the point of being accused of being a wanton or an adulteress. The gossips reported that they spent whole days closeted alone together, and one courtier expostulated, 'Not a man in England but cries out at the top of his voice, this fellow is ruining the country with his vanity!'

  There was, reported a Spanish envoy in Antwerp, much grudging on the part of the English nobles 'to see someone in such special favour, and the little regard the Queen hath for marriage'.

  It was this 'little regard' that so worried Cecil: the related subjects of the Queen's marriage and the succession were never far from his mind, and even in Edinburgh, he took the trouble to write and express his hopes that 'God would direct your heart to procure a father for your children, and so shall the children of all your realm bless your seed.' Many of her subjects believed that Elizabeth was doing exactly as Cecil advised, but they deplored her choice.

  At the end of July, after an absence of nearly two months, Cecil returned to court, expecting perhaps to receive a grateful welcome from his sovereign. But while his fellow councillors were warm in their congratulations, Elizabeth was cool and distant, and Dudley all-powerful and - contrary to his avowed principles - courting the goodwill and support of de Quadra, hoping to enlist Spanish support for himself in a bid to counter the Secretary's influence - all with the Queen's knowledge and approval. She had even declared that she wanted 'a swordsman' who would equal her 'scribes'.

  Cecil realised with a sinking heart that he had been away too long. He apparently concluded that, during his absence, the relationship between the Queen and her favourite had undergone a fundamental change. Whatever he imagined this was alarmed him, but not so greatly as did the change in the Queen's attitude towards himself. She had shown no gratitude for his work in Edinburgh, and she had made it plain that she would not defray all his expenses, even though he was out of pocket on her account. Now, when he needed to consult her on state affairs, he would be told that she had gone out riding with Dudley. All the signs indicated that she meant to marry him, if he could be freed from his marriage.

  Rumours of divorce - and worse - were still prevalent. A royal torchbearer was happily spreading a report of how the Queen, returning one evening from visiting Dudley at Kew, spoke warmly to her attendants of Dudley's praiseworthy qualities, and declared that she intended to bestow further honours on him. This led to speculation that he, would have a dukedom conferred upon him, or that the Queen meant to marry him once he was free. It was all reported to the Privy Council and caused Cecil grave concern. He had no idea how far Elizabeth's relationship with Dudley had progressed and he could see her recklessly ruining her reputation and courting disaster.

  The councillors debated the matter amongst themselves, deploring to a man the Queen's failure to marry one of her princely suitors. Some suggested that this was because she would brook no master; others believed she intended to use her marriage as a means of bargaining with her European neighbours; but most felt that it was of little use to contemplate a foreign marriage alliance, because they believed that Elizabeth had already decided to marry Dudley. The situation seemed so desperate that de Quadra expected a palace coup, and commented, 'The cry is, that they do not want any more women rulers, and this woman may therefore find herself and her favourite in prison any morning.'

  Cecil, seeing his own career at an end, quickly became very depressed and, within a month, was seriously considering tendering his resignation, hinting as much in a letter to the Earl of Bedford. He planned to recall Sir Nicholas Throckmorton from Paris to replace himself as Secretary, and wrote to him, 'You must needs return. I dare not write that I might speak. God send Her Majesty understanding of what shall be her surety' - in other words, a prestigious foreign marriage alliance.

  The Secretary also regaled Throckmorton and other English ambassadors abroad with a highly-coloured version of what was going on between the Queen and her favourite, intimating that it would be helpful if they could convey the disapproval of foreign governments, which might give Elizabeth pause for thought.

  On 30 August, the court moved to Windsor. A week earlier, the Scottish Parliament had abolished the authority of the Roman Catholic Church and made the celebration of the mass in Scotland a capital offence. Instead, with the tacit approval of Queen Elizabeth, the Calvinist form of Protestantism became the official religion. The Scottish lords now hoped to consolidate their settlement by uniting Scotland with England through the marriage of Elizabeth to the Earl of Arran, notwithstanding the fact that Elizabeth had made it clear she was not interested in the match. The Scots were determined 'with tooth and nail' to bring it about, but before negotiations could proceed, something happened which brought
state affairs in England to a near standstill.

  Robert Dudley had never maintained a private establishment for himself and his wife. He had his house at Kew, given him by the Queen, but Elizabeth had made it clear that any reference to Amy Dudley was unpleasing to her, and was given to calling on her favourite unannounced, so Amy never came to Kew. Instead, she spent her time on long visits to the houses of relatives and friends.

  Dudley and his wife had now been married for over eight years, but they rarely saw each other. The Queen insisted upon him being at court and he could only manage rare visits home. There is evidence that Amy made at least one visit to court, but it is unlikely that her presence was welcome. It was not unusual in those days for the wives of courtiers to remain in the country while their husbands served at court; it was possible for wives to reside at court, but the cost was enormous and the Queen discouraged the practice. She liked her male courtiers to dance attendance on her, not on their wives.

  In the winter of 1558-9, Amy Dudley stayed with friends in Lincolnshire and Bury St Edmunds. In the spring, she travelled to Camberwell, south of London, to visit her mother's kinsfolk, the Scotts. Thereafter she seems to have stayed mainly at the house of William Hyde at Denchworth, near Abingdon, which still stands today, although it bears little resemblance to the house Amy knew. Dudley sent gifts to her there, all of which are listed in his account books: a hood, gold buttons, spices, venison, sewing silk, hosiery, a looking glass, and Holland cloth for ruffs. She was never in want of material things, and Dudley saw to it that her needs were provided for. Occasionally, he came himself to see her, although during 1560 those visits became less and less frequent.