Life of Elizabeth I Page 17

  One morning in late November or early December 1560, while the Queen was away hunting at Eltham in Kent, the lovers seized their opportunity. Having excused herself from accompanying the royal party 3 by pleading toothache, Lady Katherine walked with Lady Jane along the banks of the Thames to Cannon Row, while Hertford dismissed all his servants for the day. Jane had arranged for a priest to come to the house and perform the ceremony, but he failed to turn up. Ever resourceful, she found another, said to have been a Catholic, and with only herself as witness, a ceremony of marriage took place. When the priest departed, Jane, 'perceiving them ready to go to bed', left the newlyweds alone for two hours before returning to walk back with Lady Katherine to Whitehall. On arrival, they joined the other courtiers for dinner, no one being any the wiser as to where they had been.

  That November, Francis II, King of France developed a virulent ear infection. After weeks of agony he died on 6 December, and was succeeded by his ten-year-old brother, Charles IX. Real power, however, now lay in the hands of the new regent, the Queen Mother, Catherine de' Medici, and the Guises found themselves thrust into the background.

  Mary Stuart was left a widow at only eighteen years old, and the question of her future had to be settled. She was devastated by her young husband's death, but there was no question but that she should remarry after a suitable period of mourning. In the meantime she had a country to rule, and it was not long before the Queen Mother, jealous of Mary's status and influence, was urging her to return to Scotland. Mary's Guise relations suggested several possible husbands, but Catherine vetoed them all, knowing that any one of these marriages would keep Mary in France.

  In England, Elizabeth's cousin, Margaret Douglas, Countess of Lennox, heard the news of King Francis's death, and immediately conceived the idea of putting forward her son, Henry Stewart, Lord Darnley, as a likely consort for the Scottish Queen. Without telling Elizabeth, she sent Darnley to France to press his suit, but it was too soon for Mary, who was in no fit state to consider any future husband. Moreover, the Queen found out about Lady Lennox's intrigues, and when Darnley returned home she had them both placed under house arrest in London.

  Elizabeth was naturally concerned about the change of government in France. Francis and Mary had repeatedly refused to ratify the Treaty of Edinburgh, and had continued to use the royal arms of England; relations between England and France had therefore become rather strained, but it soon became apparent that the new regime had neither the interest nor the resources to cause trouble for Elizabeth.

  That December, death also claimed Elizabeth's Comptroller, the ageing Sir Thomas Parry. He had also held the lucrative office of Master of the Court of Wards, which Dudley coveted, but in January 1561, Elizabeth, with wise caution, bestowed it upon William Cecil. By March, the Earl of Bedford was able to comment, 'The great matters whereof the world was wont to talk are now asleep, having had some fits, both hot and cold.'

  Dudley had certainly been feeling out in the cold. Cecil told Throckmorton, 'Whatever reports or opinion be, I know surely that my Lord Robert hath more fear than hope, and so doth the Queen give him cause.' But Dudley had not given up all hope of marrying Elizabeth, and he actively set about increasing his following. He knew that the Queen had been most concerned about reaction in Spain to the recent scandal, yet he was also aware that Philip II had envisaged that she might marry a subject and that Philip would wish to remain on good terms with that subject in order to advance the Catholic cause in England. Dudley therefore decided to seek Philip's support for his marriage to the Queen. Elizabeth may well have agreed to this plan, or even suggested it, for different motives: she knew that, if the Catholic powers could be led to believe that she privately wished to restore the old faith in England, they would not agitate for her excommunication.

  In January, Dudley sent his brother-in-law, Sir Henry Sidney, to convey to de Quadra his assurances that, if he married the Queen, the Catholic faith would be restored in England, and Dudley 'would thereafter serve and obey [King Philip] like one of his own vassals'. Sidney revealed to de Quadra that Elizabeth had tired of 'the tyranny of Cecil' and was anxious to 'put religion right'; he stressed 'how much inclined the Queen was to the marriage' and suggested that it would be helpful if King Philip could do his best to persuade her to reconsider her decision not to marry Dudley. This was a strange stance for a man who had already set himself up as the champion of the Protestant faith to adopt, but with Dudley ambition ruled all: he had not paused to consider the consequences to himself if his intrigues became public.

  Although de Quadra had consistently taken the view that the scandal surrounding Dudley had made him a less than suitable candidate for the Queen's hand, he was nevertheless aware that, if they married, bitter faction fights would arise in the court amongst the ruling Protestant elite, which would ensure that the oppression of Catholics would no longer be a priority. However, he responded to Sidney's startling revelations with scepticism.

  'What I have heard so far of this matter has been of such a character that I have hardly ventured to write two lines to His Majesty about it, nor have the Queen or Lord Robert said a word to me that I could write,' he said stiffly. 'I have no means of guessing the Queen's thoughts, and although my master is always anxious to be helpful, his advice has been consistently disregarded in the past.'

  Sidney was obliged to concede this point, but protested that if de Quadra 'was satisfied about the death of Lord Robert's wife', he saw no reason why the Bishop should not report Dudley's assurances to King Philip, since, although the Queen and Dudley had indulged in 'a love affair, the object of it was marriage'. De Quadra pointed out that, although Dudley had been cleared of any involvement in his wife's death, many people did not believe he was innocent. Sidney agreed that this was the chief obstacle to the marriage, but stressed that he was sure Amy Dudley's death had been accidental - 'He had enquired with great care, and knew that public opinion held to the contrary.'

  Sir Henry went on to acknowledge that not only the marriage of the Queen and Dudley, but also the relaxation of sanctions against the English Catholics would prove impossible without Philip's support. Once that was assured, 'things would be very different, and the Queen and Dudley would do all they could to restore religion without delay'.

  Despite de Quadra's summing up of Sidney as an honest man, he could not but remember how Lady Sidney had hoodwinked him over the matter of the Archduke Charles, with Elizabeth's connivance, and he suspected that there was a hidden agenda behind this intrigue also. However, on 13 February, Sidney brought Dudley himself to a private interview with de Quadra, in which the favourite confirmed all that Sidney had said, after which the ambassador was sufficiently convinced that a Dudley marriage would be in Catholic interests to say so to King Philip in his next dispatch.

  Philip responded favourably to the plan, but he did not trust Elizabeth and insisted that de Quadra 'get it in writing with her signature' before matters were carried any further. The ambassador duly saw the Queen, but she was evasive when he said he was glad to hear that she was contemplating marrying Dudley.

  'After much circumlocution, she said she wished to confess to me and tell me her secret in confession, which was that she was no angel, and did not deny that she had some affection for Lord Robert, for the many good qualities he possessed, but she certainly had never decided to marry him or anyone else, although she daily saw more clearly the necessity for her marriage, and to satisfy the English humour it was desirable that she should marry an Englishman.'

  'What would King Philip think', she asked, with a twinkle in her eye, 'if I married one of my servitors?'

  'My master would be pleased to hear of your marriage, whoever Your Majesty chooses, as it is important for the welfare of your kingdom,' de Quadra assured her. 'His Majesty, I feel sure, would be happy to hear of Lord Robert's good fortune. I have always understood that King Philip has a great affection for him, and generally holds him in high esteem.' De Quadra noted that Elizabeth 'seem
ed as pleased at this as her position allowed her to be'.

  Cecil, however, was not pleased to find out what was going on. In March, he asked de Quadra to obtain from King Philip a letter supporting the Dudley marriage. The Queen, he explained, did not wish to do anything without the goodwill of her subjects, and would use the letter as an excuse to summon Parliament and lay the proposal before them. Cecil knew it was a foregone conclusion that Parliament would reject any candidate of Philip's out of hand, and de Quadra knew it too, and began to suspect that the whole episode had been a plot to discredit the Catholics. In the middle of April, his suspicions were apparently confirmed when he was accused of involvement in a Catholic conspiracy against the Queen; several notable recusants were arrested, and it was bruited abroad that King Philip had undertaken to support a Dudley marriage if Elizabeth would acknowledge the supremacy of the Pope over the English Church. Not surprisingly, this provoked a furore, but there was in fact precious little evidence that such a conspiracy had ever existed. In all likelihood, it had been the invention of Cecil, out to discredit Dudley and prevent him from marrying the Queen.

  Cecil was so successful at stirring up anti-Catholic feeling at court during the following weeks that Dudley soon perceived that if his dealings with de Quadra became known, he might well face ruin. He realised now that his intrigue had been detected and that there could be no question of official Spanish backing for the marriage.

  Although Elizabeth had assured de Quadra that she did not believe he had been involved in the alleged conspiracy, Cecil continued to make life difficult for the Bishop. His secretary was suborned into spying on him, his letters were intercepted and read, his visitors followed and watched, and he was accused of sending defamatory dispatches to Spain.

  Dejected, Dudley asked his friends what he should do, and a few even advised him to go and live abroad. His spirits were vastly uplifted, however, when the Queen assigned to him a sumptuous apartment at Greenwich, next to her own, which prompted him - and, unfortunately, others - to speculate that she had done so in order to ensure that they could enjoy intimacy in private. To Dudley, it seemed in the summer of 1561 that he might yet achieve his ambition of being consort, even without Spanish help. By May he had abandoned his flirtation with the Catholics and henceforth remained a staunch advocate of Protestantism, proudly boasting that 'There is no man I know in this realm that hath showed a better mind to the furthering of true religion than I have done.'

  There was more to this than met the eye, for by playing the religious zealot and patriot, Dudley hoped to proclaim himself an ideal consort for the Queen, whilst at the same time demonstrating that his influence could be every bit as beneficial as Cecil's. And to a degree he was successful: although Amy Dudley's death had not been forgotten, from around this time onwards, people ceased to regard him as a mere favourite, and statesmen like Cecil realised that it was in their interests to remain on good terms with him. However, Cecil never ceased to fear that Elizabeth might change her mind and marry Dudley, and from time to time was driven to employing subtle means to sabotage the latter's chances.

  For her part, Elizabeth kept Dudley - and everyone else - guessing. One evening in June, de Quadra was a guest on the royal barge when the Queen attended a splendid water pageant on the Thames. 'She, Robert and I being alone on the galley, they began joking, which she likes to do much better than talking about business. They went so far with their jokes that Lord Robert told her that, if she liked, I could be the minister to perform the act of marriage, and she, nothing loath to hear it, said she was not sure whether I knew enough English.' The dignified Bishop was not amused by this, and after he had 'let them jest for a while' he stiffly pointed out that the Queen should extricate herself from the tyranny of William Cecil and her other advisers, and then restore the true religion. If she could accomplish this, she could marry Dudley as soon as they pleased, because with King Philip's support, no one would dare oppose their union. Elizabeth, who could not afford to lose Philip's goodwill, affected to be interested in his suggestions.

  That summer, most observers thought that the Queen's love for Dudley was 'as great as ever'. Although there were reports that Erik of Sweden was coming in person to renew his courtship, they believed that there was only one serious contender for Elizabeth's hand, although it was characteristic of Elizabeth to provoke Dudley by commenting, when shown a new portrait of Erik, that if the King was as handsome as his portrait, no one could resist him.

  Secure in his love, she could deliver a cruel put-down. When, a few years later, Charles IX's ambassador informed her and Dudley that his master thought that they should marry and wished to meet Dudley, Elizabeth retorted, 'It would scarcely be honourable to send a groom to see so great a king.' Then she laughed, and said, 'I cannot do without my Lord Robert, for he is like my little dog, and whenever he comes into a room, everyone at once assumes that I myself am near.'

  If Dudley grew tired of this treatment, he did not show it, nor for many years did he contemplate any alternative marriage. Elizabeth kept him bound to her by lavish patronage - she granted him a pension of #1000 per annum in October 1561 - lucrative offices, privileges, informal but real political influence, manifest signs of favour - and hope.

  In March 1561, just after Lord Hertford had left on a diplomatic mission to France, Lady Katherine Grey had discovered herself to be pregnant. On 23 March, her friend and accomplice Lady Jane Seymour died, aged just twenty, probably of tuberculosis; the Queen ordered that she be buried in Westminster Abbey with great ceremony, but her passing left Katherine alone to face the consequences of her rash marriage.

  To her husband, she wrote desperately, 'I am quick with child. I pray you therefore to return and declare how the matter standeth between us.' In the meantime, she had to put on a brave face and continue with her duties at court, praying that her condition would not show.

  By July, however, this was a vain hope. That month, the Queen went on a progress through East Anglia, and Katherine was one of those chosen to attend her. By the time they reached Ipswich, she was in great distress at the suspicious glances of court matrons, and took the extraordinary liberty of seeking out Dudley in his bedchamber in the middle of the night, knowing that he was the one person who might be able to mitigate the Queen's wrath. Kneeling by his bed and weeping, she confessed all and begged him to help her. Dudley, realising that what she was telling him could have disastrous consequences for the succession, told her to leave. Distraught, she went to the room of an old family friend, Elizabeth Cavendish, Lady Saintlow - who had served Elizabeth as a lady in waiting since Mary's reign and became better known in later years as the formidable Bess of Hardwick - but met only with an angry tirade against her utter foolishness, and a refusal to incur the Queen's displeasure by becoming involved.

  The next morning, Dudley informed the Queen of her cousin's crime, and thereafter Katherine was in deep disgrace. Elizabeth took the view that, apart from having placed the succession in jeopardy, her cousin's weakness in having succumbed to an affair of the heart made her an unsuitable heir to the throne. She also saw the affair as evidence of a conspiracy against the Crown, although there was never any proof of that. Cecil concluded that Katherine's illicit pregnancy was a sign that God was displeased at the prospect of a Grey claimant succeeding to the throne.

  When the court returned to Whitehall in August, Katherine was imprisoned in the Tower and Lord Hertford was summoned home, admitted paternity of the child, and joined his wife there, being housed in a separate cell. They were not allowed to meet. On 24 September, Katherine gave birth to a son, Edward Seymour. News of the birth of a male claimant to the throne only made the Queen more incensed against the couple, for she feared that Katherine's ability to produce a son might make her a more attractive prospect as queen in the eyes of the people. In order to make it impossible for the infant to be set up as a rival claimant, Elizabeth ordered that a commission, headed by the Archbishop of Canterbury, should investigate the validity of the
marriage.

  The commissioners examined the prisoners separately and rigorously, demanding details of their 'infamous conversation' and evidence to substantiate their 'pretended marriage', but of course there was none. The only witness was dead and the priest could not be traced. Hertford had referred to Katherine as his wife in a deed of jointure, but she had lost it. In 1562, after months of investigations, the commission pronounced the union null and void and its issue illegitimate, and, for their 'undue and unlawful carnal copulation', the offending couple were sentenced to imprisonment in the Tower at the Queen's pleasure. Fortunately, Elizabeth had not demanded the full penalty for treason which the law provided for.

  However, Katherine Grey's disgrace signalled the end of any hopes that she might have had of being designated Elizabeth's successor, and it strengthened the Queen's resolve never to name her heir: that September she told the new Scots ambassador, William Maitland of Lethington, that she thought it was unreasonable of her subjects 'to require me in my own life to set my winding sheet before my eye'.

  Nevertheless, there was a certain amount of sympathy for Katherine; her marriage was regarded as valid, and it was felt that she and Lord Hertford had been too 'sharply handled'. Their supporters believed that, if the Queen had done her duty by marrying and producing an heir of her own, the proceedings against these young people would have been unnecessary.