On the Queen’s side, it appeared not. Unbeknown to Lettice, this was the last occasion on which she would ever see Elizabeth, who had no intention of allowing her kinswoman back into her favour or her court. Their meeting had been nothing but a superficial show – almost certainly for Essex’s benefit – and within a matter of days the Queen was reported to be using ‘some wonted unkind words’ about her kinswoman.7 She steadfastly refused to meet with her again, no matter what Essex might say. It was a devastating result, and all at once Lettice’s hopes of a reconciliation and a possible return to court life had been dashed. Feeling downcast, she left London under a cloud and resigned herself to returning to her husband at Drayton Bassett.
AS TIME PASSED, Lettice’s meeting with the Queen became more distant. She spent her days quietly at Drayton Bassett, perhaps disappointed and frustrated with the way in which events had transpired. Soon there were more worrying matters to contend with, for the relationship between the monarch and Lettice’s son was also about to take a turn for the worst.
Following the Queen’s meeting with his mother, like Lettice, Essex was hopeful that relations between the two women would improve. It was in his interests for them to get along, and Elizabeth’s hatred of his mother was a source of great embarrassment for him. He was as frustrated as Lettice when the two women failed to build bridges. Though he had been the undoubted favourite for some time, there were many who snapped at his heels, waiting for an opportunity to take his place. Essex’s old enemy Sir Walter Ralegh was among them, as was Lord Burghley’s son, the hunchbacked Robert Cecil. Even though Essex and Cecil had spent part of their boyhoods together in Burghley’s household, the two men loathed one another. This is particularly ironic given that, in his final letter to Burghley, Essex’s father had relayed his hope that ‘I would have his [Essex] love towards those which are descended from you spring up and increase with his years.’8 Cecil had become a prominent figure at court following the death of Walsingham, and the Queen was coming to rely on him increasingly. He was a man of great ability, and when his father died in 1598 – much to the Queen’s grief – he assumed the role of her Secretary of State.9 This only swelled Essex’s hostility to him, for his own influence with the Queen and in the political arena was beginning to wane – the Queen was distressed by rumours that Essex was conducting an affair with Lady Mary Howard, though he had convinced her that there was no truth in them. He was also vehemently opposed to the idea of a peace with Spain that was being mooted at this time, in response to the peace that had been made between France and Spain. Despite Cecil supporting the notion of peace, in his usual manner Essex did not refrain from speaking his mind. He wanted to launch an offensive to crush the might of the Spanish for good, but ultimately the Queen felt that to do so would prove too costly. Camden reported that Burghley had said that Essex ‘breathed nothing but war, slaughter, and blood’, and rather than letting the matter lie, Essex ordered the publication of a leaflet that set out all of his views, much to the Queen’s fury.10 She was fast becoming weary of his petulant outbursts. Evidence of just how far his relationship with Elizabeth had unravelled was about to be revealed in the most shocking of terms.
Following the death of Lettice’s first husband, Walter, the problem of Ireland had remained a continual thorn in the Queen’s side. News had recently arrived informing the Queen that her army had been crushed, and its leader killed by the Earl of Tyrone, leader of the native Irish forces. It was England’s worst military defeat in years, and the situation needed to be resolved. In the summer, the Queen desperately sought to appoint a new Lord Deputy, and looked to Lettice’s brother William. He was one of Essex’s crucial supporters, and in need of all of the allies that he could get, Essex was eager for William to remain at court. Instead he suggested Sir George Carew, who was a member of Robert Cecil’s faction. The Queen was not impressed with Carew’s nomination, and Essex was angered by her cool response. So angered, that in a moment of pure frustration, on 1 July he committed the ultimate insult by turning his back on her. Elizabeth was furious at this blatant display of discourtesy, and in a rage she lashed out and hit him, giving him ‘a box on the ear’.11 She ‘bid him be gone with a vengeance’, but she had not counted on his shocking retort.12 Equally outraged and forgetting all protocol in a moment of madness, Essex reached for his sword. Those around him were quick to react, and he was prevented from doing any more. The witnesses to this scene were appalled, but rather than repenting of his actions and begging for forgiveness, the Earl ‘swore that he would not put up so great an indignity, nay that he could not, even at Henry VIII’s hand’, before storming from the room.13 Once again his hot-headedness had got the better of him, but this time he had gone too far. Indeed, his actions were to have more significant consequences, and this incident marked the beginning of his end.
Though no action was taken against Essex following his altercation with the Queen, if Lettice had learned of it then she would have been wise to urge her son to show caution. Essex, however, seemed to think himself invincible, and continued to antagonize the Queen, offering no apology for his behaviour. The relationship between them had changed, and his behaviour towards her was strikingly different from that of his stepfather: he paid her very little deference, and rather than submitting to the Queen’s outbursts in the way that Leicester had once done, Essex snapped back at her. There was only so much of this that Elizabeth was prepared to take. She was also greatly angered when he showed himself to be supportive of the relationship between his friend, the Earl of Southampton, and Elizabeth Vernon. Elizabeth was one of the Queen’s maids, and was also Essex’s cousin. She and Southampton were passionately in love, but though they sought the Queen’s permission to marry, she expressly forbade it. This did not prevent the couple from continuing their relationship, and within a few months Elizabeth learned that she was pregnant. They now had no choice, and it was with Essex’s support that Southampton and his mistress were secretly married at Essex House in August. Once again, the Queen was incensed when she discovered the truth, and even more so with Essex’s deception. There was worse to come.
Despite her apparent forgiveness of all of Essex’s appalling behaviour, the relationship between the Queen and her favourite was becoming increasingly fraught. To exacerbate matters, Essex was extremely vocal in his criticism of the Queen and Council’s approach to the Irish problem. He rejected every candidate suggested for the role of Lord Deputy – even his friend, Penelope’s lover Charles Blount, Lord Mountjoy, was deemed to be unsuitable by the Earl. The result was that he was left with no choice but to accept the position himself. So it was that Lettice’s son began preparing to follow in the footsteps that his father had first taken more than two decades earlier. Even now, though, he did not learn from his mistakes, and he bickered with the Queen over the best way to approach the campaign. Whenever he did not get his own way he sulked, and waited for the Queen to give in to his demands. By now he knew that his influence with Elizabeth was starting to wane, and that her patience was wearing thin. His acceptance of the role in Ireland, then, was part of a desperate bid to repair his standing with the Queen and restore his dwindling finances. Only time would tell whether this roll of the dice would be successful.
In March 1599, the Earl of Essex sailed for Ireland with the largest army England had ever gathered, numbering 16,000.14 Among the company were his stepfather, Sir Christopher Blount, who was by now a trusted member of Essex’s circle, and the Earl of Southampton. The party was forced to endure a rough crossing in the Irish Sea. On 14 April, Essex arrived in Dublin, and from there his strategy was simple: he planned to crush the Earl of Tyrone’s rebel force in Ulster in a short, sharp attack. It turned out that he had wildly underestimated his opponent.
WITH ESSEX IN Ireland, Lettice’s daughter Penelope, daughter-in-law Frances, and the Countess of Southampton retired from London to Chartley. Lettice would also have seen this as an opportunity to spend some time with the ladies while they were there, and t
ogether they all waited anxiously for news from Ireland. There is no indication as to what Lettice’s feelings at the departure of her husband and son on campaign may have been, but like those at court, she cannot have failed to recognize Essex’s dwindling influence with the Queen. She would thus have been praying that his mission was a great success. When news came, though, it was not good.
Essex’s power had gone to his head, and not for the first time he took it upon himself to ignore the Queen’s commands. Prior to his departure, she had given orders that he was only to knight those who had shown exceptional valour in battle, but instead Essex created eighty-one new knights. He also made Southampton his Master of Horse, against the Queen’s express command. Inevitably, the Queen discovered what he had done, and his flagrant disregard for her instructions only served to heighten her growing disillusionment.15 More crucially, rather than marching to Ulster to destroy Tyrone, he lingered, instead quelling smaller pockets of rebellion elsewhere. The Queen was incensed, and wrote to him furiously, demanding that he proceed against Tyrone at once. By now Essex had squandered both time and money, and to make matters worse he had fallen ill with dysentery. This only increased his lethargy, and when he received the Queen’s demands he knew that his forces no longer had the military strength to defeat Tyrone. The mighty army that he had brought with him had been diminished as a result of disease, famine, desertion or death in service: now only around four thousand men remained.
With him ever in her thoughts, Lettice wrote to her son while he was in Ireland. She took it upon herself to offer him advice, and in the circumstances he would have done well to heed her words:
My dear and most noble child,
In the midst of your infinite troubles, I must needs satisfy my own heart with sending you one farewell, with these caveats, that, as I would not, like myself or sex, persuade your invincible courage to cowardice, so yet, my sweet Robin, give me leave to put you in mind that the true valour in a great commander, thoroughly known, is as well shown, and to better purpose, in wise politic carriage and government, than it can possibly be in too much hazard and adventuring his own person. Wherefore, be wise as valiant, and think what a high price your country and friends hold you at, amongst the which I am not the least, that hold you dearest.16
She had also sent Essex and her husband a comforting message: ‘The Lord of Heaven bless and keep you both, that with heart’s joy I may see your faces again, with safe return.’ She was eager to see her son, but the Queen forbade Essex to return home until he had fulfilled his promise to bring Tyrone to his knees. Her anger at his behaviour and conduct was palpable. This was only exacerbated by the fact that, during his absence, his enemies at court were provided with the perfect opportunity to speak against him – and he knew it. Matters were about to become a whole lot worse, for the final campaign to crush Tyrone went disastrously. Tyrone proposed a six-week renewable truce, and against the Queen’s express command Essex agreed. With his forces so badly weakened, in his eyes there was no reasonable alternative. Like his father before him, Essex had failed to achieve success in Ireland, and had actually done rather worse.
When she learned of what he had done, the Queen was livid. Feeling that the only option was now to explain himself in person, Essex made a badly judged decision. Contrary to the Queen’s orders, on 24 September, after less than six months in Ireland, he set sail for England ‘in all haste’, leaving the remainder of his army behind – without their leader. Once again his hot-headed impetuosity had got the better of him, but he felt confident that if he could explain his position to the Queen before his enemies were given the chance to move against him, then all would be well.17 As soon as he landed he journeyed at breakneck speed to Nonsuch Palace, where the court was in residence. Arriving on the morning of 28 September, he was so desperate to see the Queen that he abandoned all protocol and completely forgot himself – again. Covered in mud and dust as a result of his speedy journey, Essex hurried to the Royal Apartments and burst into the Queen’s bedchamber unannounced. The sight that greeted him was wholly unexpected: the Queen, usually presented as the icon of splendour and magnificence, was in a state of undress. Her wig and cosmetics were absent, and the extravagant jewels that usually adorned her person had not yet been placed. As her bedchamber was an exclusively female domain, Elizabeth was shocked by this unexpected intrusion, and more so when she saw that it was Essex, who had evidently disobeyed her commands to remain in Ireland until summoned home. Despite her humiliation, she managed to retain her composure. It was at this moment that Essex’s mistake dawned on him, and in a rare display of humility he fell on his knees before her. He seemed to think that this would be enough for her to forgive his earlier discourtesy, and when he left the Queen’s chamber it was with an assurance that all was well between them. Later that morning he was given a more formal audience, by which time the Queen was properly attired. Yet later that day, it became clear that all was not well after all, and that evening Essex was ordered to ‘keep his chamber’.18 At his request Penelope hastened to court, but there was little that she could do. She and Lettice, who had been informed of her son’s arrival back at court, could only watch and wait as events unfolded.
The following day, the Privy Council presented Essex with a list of charges regarding the Irish campaign – chiefly his disobedience and inability to follow orders. Though he spiritedly defended his conduct, his answers were not good enough, and he was sent to York House on the Strand under house arrest. Here he was to remain for the next six months. In his melancholy he fell ill, and, still popular, this only increased public sympathy for him.
As the 1590s had progressed, Essex’s behaviour towards the Queen had grown increasingly arrogant and disrespectful. Time and again Elizabeth had forgiven his petulant displays of sulking and his explosions of rage – behaviour that she had never had to endure from Leicester or any other of her male favourites. That she tolerated it for so long says much about her fondness for him. Eventually, though, such displays and such blatant disrespect for her and her commands had worn the Queen down, and she had become thoroughly tired of it. Cadiz had undoubtedly been the peak of Essex’s career, but from there things had taken a drastic downward spiral. He had numerous enemies at court, chiefly Robert Cecil, but ultimately his undoing was all his own. His behaviour in Ireland had been the final straw – it was clear that he could not be trusted to obey orders, and his ambition was becoming dangerous. No longer would he enjoy the influence he had once wielded, and more crucially, never again would he see the Queen.
Essex’s fall alarmed his family. Lettice was greatly agitated, but she knew that her own position with the Queen made it impossible for her to intercede on her son’s behalf. Essex’s wife, meanwhile, was reported to be ‘a most sorrowful creature for her husband’s captivity’.19 The only member of the family with any influence left was Penelope, and she was prepared to do whatever it took to secure her beloved brother’s freedom. In December, Rowland White observed that ‘The two ladies Northumberland and Rich all in black were at court; they were humble suitors to have the Earl removed to a better air for he is somewhat straightly lodged.’20 Dorothy had once again been received at court, but her blatant support for her disgraced brother could only spell trouble. In a clear demonstration of where her loyalties lay, Lettice’s cousin Lady Philadelphia Scrope had donned the same colour.21 Penelope worked tirelessly on Essex’s behalf, sending the Queen several costly gifts and growing gradually more distressed by reports that her brother had fallen sick. The Queen was in no mood to listen, and White reported that while Penelope’s ‘letters are read, her presents received, but no leave granted’.22 Her softer approach had achieved nothing, leaving Penelope with no choice but to resort to harsher tactics.
In a letter that is generally dated to early 1600, Penelope’s inheritance of her mother’s spirit shone through when she wrote a defence of her brother to the Queen. Her letter was not, however, the traditional plea for mercy, and did nothing but rile the
Queen:
I early hoped this morning to have had my eyes blessed with your beauty, but seeing the same vanish to a cloud, and meeting with spirits that did presage by the wheels of your chariot some thunder in the air, I must express my fears to that divine oracle from whom I received a doubtful answer, unto whose power I must again sacrifice the tears and prayers of the afflicted, that must despair in time, if it be too soon to importune heaven when we feel the miseries of hell, or that words directed to your wisdom should out of season be delivered for my unfortunate brother, that all men have liberty to defame us.23
Her love for her brother was evident when she tried to justify his actions, and urged the Queen to show clemency:
If his offences were capital, is he so base a creature that his love and service to you and the State deserved no absolution, after so hard punishments, or so much as to answer in your presence, who would vouchsafe more justice than partial judges, or enemies combined to build his ruin, and glut themselves with revenge, and rise by his overthrow? Unless you check them, the last course will be his last breath, since their evil instruments have sufficient poison in their hearts to infect the service; and when they are in their full strength, they will, like the giants, make war against heaven.
Penelope’s reference to Essex’s enemies and her attempts to blame them for her brother’s faults did not go down well. She ended her letter by entreating the Queen to let ‘your power be no more eclipsed than your beauty, and imitate the highest in not destroying those that trust only in your mercy’.24 This letter was probably the subject of a comment made by a contemporary on 8 February, that ‘Lady Rich has written again to Her Majesty, but in other kind of language, and they say my Lord [Essex] relenteth much, but the resolution is taken what course he shall run’.25 Either way, the letter was not well received, and the Queen remained unmoved. To further exacerbate the situation, Penelope’s actions had landed her in trouble, too.
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