But, typically of the times, these sensible arrangements were explained to new mothers in damning terms by the priests. Mothers were declared to be soiled by the sins of Eve, which could contaminate the souls of anyone who came into contact with them, even by their breathing on them – hence the veil. The birthing blood of a new mother was seen as a vile fluid, filled with transferrable sin, and no one else should have to be in contact with it, hence the special chair. The veil became a symbol of the biblical sin of womenfolk, and was subsequently despised by women of the seventeenth century. Sadly, what started as a sensible hygienic precaution to save the lives of new mothers and their babies led to women’s voices raised in protest against a ritual which turned new mothers in social outcasts.
* * *
Previously it was thought that George Cutteford had hidden the child, taking the newborn baby to his mother’s house4, but his mother Ann, if still alive in 1622, was too old to care for a baby. Life with a sailor’s widow in Plymouth would have been considered most unsuitable for the great grandson of Sir William Courtenay. The Halses at Walreddon were a more suitable alternative.
However, it seems that the boy’s situation was still precarious. Perhaps the Halses were worried that Charles would return; perhaps local gossip continued; or perhaps they just waited until the boy was old enough to travel – travelling with a newborn was a difficult and often dangerous prospect on the terrible roads of the seventeenth century. Whatever the reason, in 1623 the Halses suddenly quit Walreddon, handing the entire estate over to the delighted Frances Glanville, still acting as MP for Tavistock. The Halses returned to their Kenedon Manor, at Kenton near Exmouth, taking the now twelve-month-old George Halse with them.
It is possible that Richard Halse and his family simply wished to return to the family estate. Perhaps he was recalled by Sir William Courtenay, who no longer needed his watchful eye on the Mary’s estate. Possibly Sir William Courtenay was concerned that the Howard’s might claim the boy as their own and re-ignite the battle for ownership of the estate. Sir William was by then in his seventies, and had not been active in Parliament since 1601. Francis Courtenay, his son and heir, now in his forties, had taken over the running of the Powderham estates. By 1626, he would be a very powerful man, appointed Lord Warden of the Stannaries. Francis’ first wife remained childless, so there was still the worrying lack of an heir. Perhaps it was Francis who decided that Mary’s illegitimate child should be safely hidden away nearby, with the Halses at Kenedon. However, wherever he was, George Halse would not remain hidden for long.
Charles Howard was still alive and well. The fines on his father that had driven him out of the estate had just been reduced by the king from £30,000 to just £8,000 – so he could easily argue that the money offered by Sir William Courtenay was no longer necessary, and reclaim the Fitz estates. The Courtenay’s claim was suddenly quite tenuous. Meanwhile, George Cutteford remained at Fitzford with Mary. The departure of their son to Kenedon must have been very upsetting, and Mary’s actions later in life would reveal that she never forgave the Halses for stealing away her beloved boy. Of course, in 1623, she was in an impossible position: if she protested, she would be prosecuted and perhaps imprisoned for adultery and the boy would probably be taken anyway. If the Howards discovered the existence of the child, they could quite easily say he was Charles’ heir and re-claim the entire Fitz estate for themselves.
To make matters worse, Charles Howard did return to Tavistock. In May 1626, his father, the Earl of Suffolk, died at Charing Cross House in London. He was sixty-four and probably never fully recovered from his imprisonment. His grieving family arranged for his body to be taken back to his palatial estate in Saffron Walden for burial, and Charles returned from his travels to attend the funeral. Charles’ elder brother, Theophilus Howard, inherited the title as the 2nd Earl of Suffolk, along with crippling debts, and it was probably Theophilus who convinced Charles that now would be a good time to return to Devon and claim his fair share of the Fitz estates.
Charles was in for a surprise. He returned to the Fitz manor to discover his wife living with his steward, George Cutteford. Charles’ daughter Mary was still living with them, all seemingly as a happy if unusual family, and, to make matters worse, there was a rumour circulating that Mary and George had had a son – now a possible heir to the entire estate. Charles’ reaction is unfortunately lost to history, but it can’t have been a pleasant homecoming.
And then an unexpected resolution of Mary’s predicament: Sir Charles Howard died.5 Soon after he arrived in Tavistock in 1626, Charles was dead – yet another death in strange circumstances linked to the Fitz estate.
Some say he committed suicide, overcome by melancholy once confronted by the true extent of his wife’s infidelity – but this seems improbable considering his previous behaviour. Perhaps his unexpected arrival turned to violent confrontation, and Charles was somehow killed in the affray. Later in life, Mary would, they say, display a chilling ability to remove those who got in her way, by any means necessary, so perhaps Mary ordered someone to kill her unfortunate husband.
There is another possible explanation, however. In 1626, plague raged through Tavistock, and hundreds died. Of the no more than 4,000 inhabitants, 575 were buried that year, 331 of them in the months of August, September and October, just as Charles was arriving in the town.6 It is possible that Charles contracted the terrible disease. However, the wealthy of the seventeenth century did have an uncanny knack of avoiding the plague. Despite the lack of medical knowledge, it was all too apparent that the best way to avoid the plague was to stay away from anyone who was poor and living in atrocious housing conditions. The rich regularly managed to leave town until the disease burnt itself out.
So Sir Charles Howard was dead, at the age of just thirty-six, and Mary was again a widow. Her son George Halse was safe with relatives at Kenedon, and remained undetected, and there was no reason for the Howards to contest the ownership of the Fitz estates. The Fitz estates were now safely in the hands of the Courtenays. George Cutteford seems to have been alone in his disquiet. He should have been a happy man, but Charles’s death brought him feelings only of guilt and remorse. Charles had been a good friend to George and his family, after all. This guilt seems to have worked upon George’s feelings, for by the end of 1626 Cutteford had left Mary Howard and returned to his wife and family, who may have returned to their old home in Plympton St Mary. George settled back into a steady life as an attorney and a good family man.
The money he acquired during his relationship with Mary certainly benefited his family – his eldest son, George, was already studying at Exeter College in Oxford.7 In January 1628, George Cutteford the younger received a house called Tuddybrooke in Whitchurch.8 Tuddybrooke was adjacent to the Walreddon estates; an area now called Tiddy Brook with a housing estate located there called Tiddy Close, next to a retail park, probably on the land once owned by the younger George Cutteford. Nearby Brook Mill, which serviced the Walreddon and adjoining estates, still exists.
Meanwhile, Mary must have been devastated by the elder George Cutteford’s departure. George was the only steady influence she had had all her life. Her closest friend was gone. Yet again she was a widow, and George was no longer there to support her. However, Mary Howard didn’t stay unhappy for long. She did what any spurned lover would do; what any woman would do who found herself heartbroken and suddenly alone – she sued her brother-in law. She packed her bags and left for London with a couple of servants, and probably her daughter Mary in tow, and took Theophilus Howard to court.
On her marriage to Charles, the Howard family had established a jointure for Mary which would provide her with a widow’s pension of £600 a year in the event of Charles’s death.9 When Charles died, however, the property they had set aside was not bringing in anything like the £600 they promised, so Mary took the matter to court.10
WOMEN IN COURT
It may seem unusual for a woman of the seventeenth century to stan
d up for herself in court, but in fact the Chancery Court at the time was filled with the cases of widows arguing for improved pensions and on behalf of the estates of their late husbands.11 Women were not passive in their acceptance of their sorry lot – far from it. What prevented them from travelling to London to appear in court were usually domestic matters, such as the overwhelming demands of repeated pregnancies and childcare and the very real dangers of travelling alone.
Fathers, brothers and husbands were expected to represent their female relatives’ interests in court, frequently forced into doing so by very strong-willed women, taking with them to London strict instructions to ensure the matter was decided in the women’s favour. Women of the time were not shy in their demands, nor were they ignorant of legal matters, despite their lack of formal education. Widows, now released from the burden of childcare and other domestic responsibilities, were frequently to be found arguing their case in the London courts.
The rapid social changes of the early seventeenth century were promising great improvements in the rights of women. By the 1640s, women were demanding, amongst other things, equal rights in marriage and inheritance, improved child care and, heaven forbid, a say in how the country was governed.12 Sadly, the outcome of the English Civil War would destroy all of that.13
* * *
Under the circumstances, with Charles having being so sorely used by his faithless wife, and having died an untimely death, Mary’s actions against the Howards may seem very inappropriate, but Mary was not one to let propriety and sympathy for the still-grieving Theophilus stand in her way. In 1627, Mary saw her case against Theophilus Howard as her opportunity to stand up for herself. At the same time, she also sued William Counton, who had purchased some woodland near her Lewisham Estate from her late husband – now the land was officially hers again, Mary wanted it all back.14
There was also the attraction of a new life for this widow of extremely independent means. The court of King Charles I was an exciting place for a woman who was free to choose her own friends – and probably a few lovers as well.15 Her old friend and cousin, the Earl of Dorset, was Lord Chamberlain to the Queen and with such connections, Mary quickly became a favourite of Queen Henrietta Maria who, like the Howards, enjoyed lavish social gatherings and theatrical entertainments.
KING CHARLES I
Charles (1600-1649) was the second son of King James I. His elder and more popular brother Henry died of suspected typhoid in 1612, leaving the sickly Charles as heir to the throne. Charles’ sister married Prince Frederick V, who was a Protestant, contesting the throne of Bohemia against the unpopular King Ferdinand II, a Catholic, resulting in the brutal turmoil of the Thirty Years War.
James I supported his son-in-law Frederick, and tried to make peace between Catholics and Protestants by marrying Charles to a Catholic princess from Spain, despite complaints from his own Protestant Parliament.
Parliament eventually approved Charles’ marriage to the Catholic princess, Henrietta Maria of France, on condition that Roman Catholics outside Henrietta’s court were not afforded any liberty of religion. Unknown to Parliament, however, King James entered into a treaty with Henrietta’s father to aid the French in their violent suppression of the Protestant Huguenots at La Rochelle. The people of England were horrified to discover King James I supporting Catholicism, but Charles’ marriage went ahead anyway after the death of King James and before Charles called his first Parliament – they certainly would have banned the wedding.
Parliament and the people distrusted the marriage, Henrietta Maria’s luxurious lifestyle and her strong influence over the monarchy, with Charles demanding changes to the rituals of the Church of England that seemed Catholic in nature, in direct opposition to the rise in Puritan thinking. Religious differences alienated Charles from his Parliament, becoming one of the major causes of the English Civil War in 1642.
Meanwhile, the Thirty Years War was consuming Europe, and Charles demanded money from Parliament to take English forces into Spain to support his Protestant brother-in-law. England’s finances were still suffering from the profligate reign of James I, so Parliament refused. Charles then raised the money through unpopular taxes, and sent his armies, led by court favourite the Duke of Buckingham, into disastrous battles. Ironically, the aim of one of these battles led by Buckingham was to protect the Huguenots, with Charles reneging on his treaty with his father-in-law the King of France. Its failure furthered Parliament’s hatred of the Duke of Buckingham, who was subsequently assassinated by a disgruntled soldier on 23 August 1628.
Charles continued in his father’s resolute belief in the Divine Right of Kings, stating that the liberty and freedom of the people meant they had a government, but not necessarily a share in the powers of that government. His continued battles with Parliament over power and authority – in particular that the laws of habeas corpus did not apply to the monarch – led to his eventual execution as authorised by the head of Parliament’s army, Oliver Cromwell. Charles was beheaded at Whitehall on 30 January 1649. In an unusual act, Cromwell ordered Charles’ head be sewn back onto his body, so that the family could pay their respects.16
* * *
While enjoying herself in London, Mary had her portrait painted by Van Dyke17, and although only a copied etching from 1657 survives, it shows Mary living a fine life, with no sign of heartbreak or loneliness. Mary is looking a bit plump as she enters her thirties, and the etching is not flattering in its detail – the style of her mouth, unnaturally small, is an affectation of the portrait styles of the day, indicating how women even in the seventeenth century would have their images ‘airbrushed’ to suit the fashion. There are, however, still signs of a surviving beauty.
A copy might have been sent to George Cutteford to remind him of just what he had lost. Certainly, there is something in her eyes that suggests a hardened disapproval of the viewer. Despite the curls and curves, there is nothing soft about this woman.
While at court, Mary attracted the attentions of the Duke of Buckingham, who had become a favourite of King Charles and was now just as influential as he had been in the court of King James. Charles sorely missed his elder brother, Henry18, whom he had worshipped, and the Duke of Buckingham, this good-looking man of action and intellect, became a welcome replacement.
Mary Howard was flattered by the attentions of the Duke. Buckingham had a good friend he wanted Mary to meet, a man who would offer Mary assistance in her battles in court against Theophilus Howard, now the 2nd Earl of Suffolk. Buckingham was delighted to support any case against his old adversaries the Howards, and this friend of his was an adventurous man who had fought alongside Buckingham in Spain and France; a handsome man of good breeding and social standing, with a remarkable combination of wit and virility, a man who was secretly in need of a good marriage to pay back his many creditors. A man called Sir Richard Grenville.
When she first met the dashing Sir Richard Grenville, Mary fell instantly in love.
Notes
1 Gowing, 1996.
2 Fraser, 1984.
3 Purkiss, 2006.
4 Miller, 1979.
5 The recorded date of the death of Sir Charles Howard seems to vary, with Mrs Radford in 1890 recording his death as early as September 1622. Mrs Radford could be correct, as she consulted many of the Whitchurch parish records. If Charles did die in 1622, just after the birth of Mary’s illegitimate child, then the cause of his death becomes even more mysterious.
6 Woodcock, 2008, and Alford, 1891.
7 Add Ms 18008 -771, 1628. Held at West Sussex Record Office.
8 Add Ms 18008 -771, 1628. Held at West Sussex Record Office.
9 Miller, 1979, pp. 23 and 24, and Radford, 1890, p. 79.
10 Miller, 1979, pp. 23 and 24, and Radford, 1890, p. 79.
11 Stretton, 1998. An excellent study of women’s involvement in legal cases, though Stretton does not always stress the limitations of child-rearing at the time.
/> 12 Davies, 1999, gives an excellent account of women and protest in seventeenth-century England.
13 Davies, 1999.
14 Radford, 1890, p. 79, mentions Lady Howard’s suit against William Counton and William Foster, who had purchased lands from Sir Charles Howard.
15 Fraser, 1984, pp. 82-84, gives wonderful examples of the freedom women found in widowhood. Also Tinniswood, 2007, shows the family’s consternation caused by a ‘free-thinking’ widow.
16 See the Wikipedia page for an example of the telling of this story: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_I_of_England#Execution
17 Radford, 1890, p. 79. Van Dyke’s original portrait seems to have been lost, but in early catalogues of Hollar’s work the image is called Lady Howard. The original must have been painted before 1641, when Van Dyke died. It has since been attributed to Lady Catherine Howard and Lady Venetia Digby, but, according to Mrs Radford, other images of these ladies look entirely different. It is therefore generally accepted as a copy of a painting of Lady Mary Howard.
18 . Henry, Prince of Wales, favourite son of King James I, died when he was eighteen years old, his death thought to have been caused by typhoid fever.
Chapter Five
The Devil Comes to Dartmoor
Sometime in 1628, George Cutteford was ordered to report to Richard Halse at Kenedon.1 The news Halse relayed to his nephew was terrible: Mary Howard had decided, without consulting any of her family, to marry again. Nothing, it seemed, would dissuade her. She was determined to marry Sir Richard Grenville, much to the disapproval of Sir William Courtenay, who knew this suitor only too well. Sir Richard was known to be a decadent spendthrift, a disgrace to the Grenville family – he already owed Sir William money, with no sign of paying it back. He was certainly not the kind of man who should be allowed to inherit Mary’s interest in the Fitz estates.
The Devil Comes to Dartmoor Page 7