Bess - A Novel

by Georgina Lee

  “That you lead Gilbert in all things, or words to that effect.”

  “I wish he would take notice of me then he might not be making such a mess of his life. Gilbert is so afraid now that he will only eat at home when we are in London, as he thinks the Stanhopes are out to poison him. I am at my wits end with it all!” She begins to cry and Bess frowns.

  “You have my sympathy Mary, but as I know myself, when a woman is married to a man whose personality and intelligence is no match for her own, there is trouble.”

  “We do try to economise, but we have a certain status to maintain when we are in London. Everything is so costly!”

  “I suppose you want me to help you. How much does Gilbert need?”

  Mary looks at her through tears of self-pity. “A thousand pounds would go far to reduce our liabilities.”

  Bess hides her shock at the sum, which is more than she imagined.

  “Will you promise me that you will try to manage the accounts better in future? I have always kept a meticulous record of where my money is spent, whether it is given to the poor at the gates or spent on gifts for the queen. Do you write all your expenditure down as I suggested?”

  “I must confess I do not have your discipline for bookkeeping.”

  “It is not discipline Mary! You need to know exactly where the money is being spent! You have never wanted for anything in your life, so you have no knowledge of fighting for your rights as I myself have had on many occasions. I was not born with a knowledge of how to handle my finances, it is a skill I have had to learn.”

  “Yes, that is all very well, but some of us do not have your knack of making money, we are not as talented.”

  “It is not a question of talent, but simply living within your means. I have offered to help Gilbert to manage his money and I am more than happy to do so, but he has made it clear he does not wish it.”

  “But we are the Earl and Countess of Shrewsbury now! How will it look to everyone if cannot live as we should?”

  “You must give fewer parties, buy less meat, avoid card games, cut down on your servants, make do with old clothes; I could go on.”

  Mary holds up her hands in mock horror and sits down again.

  “Please do not continue, lady mother. It all sounds too depressing.” She sniffs and regards her mother anxiously.

  “I will loan you and Gilbert the money, but you are aware that he still owes me £1,000 from last year when he wrote that it was a particularly difficult period for him.”

  “Yes, I did know about it. We are grateful,” she adds and finishes her drink in one gulp.

  “I will arrange for the money to be sent over this afternoon,” Bess tells her.

  “Thank you,” Mary says, her head bowed.

  “I assume now you have got what you wanted, you will be leaving.”

  Mary has wiped her eyes but she remains tearful.

  “Is there something else you wish to tell me?” Bess asks.

  “It is just …,” she hesitates, then her words come tumbling out.

  “Gilbert is very disappointed with his life. When the old earl died, we assumed that all his titles and honours would be passed to Gilbert. As you know, this has not happened and he feels very resentful, especially as the two most important posts were given to Stanhope. He believes this is very unfair. He will not listen to me when I tell him that such posts have to be earned, not just given out like sweetmeats. He says I nag him all the time, which I suppose I do occasionally, but he makes me so cross with his constant moaning and blaming everyone else when anything goes wrong. His father had a bad opinion of me and Gilbert has started to agree with his viewpoint. Soon we shall have no-one in the Shrewsbury family speaking to us, as he has had bad words with all of them.”

  There is a long silence after this speech and Bess gives a sigh.

  “What do you expect me to do about it?”

  “Nothing!” Mary stiffens with animosity. “You did quite enough by arranging my marriage to him in the first place. I wish I had been born Frances, she was allowed to marry for love and is so happy now with Henry and the children.”

  “But she is not the Countess of Shrewsbury, as you are. You were pleased enough to be joined to a family such as the Shrewsburys at the time, I seem to remember.”

  “The title only came to me because Gilbert’s older brother died. I did not seek it.”

  “But you enjoy the prestige and power it gives you, what woman would not?”

  “This discussion is unhelpful, I shall go now.” She stands up impatiently. “I thank you for the money, lady mother. Gilbert will write and show his gratitude, I shall make sure of it.”

  After a cursory embrace, Mary hurries out to her waiting carriage. Bess watches her depart from the window and turns away in resignation; it depresses her to acknowledge that her daughter only sees her when she wants money.

  Hardwick Hall – November 1595

  “You had no right to ask the Earl of Essex to visit without my permission! Have you also asked his wife?”

  “No, of course I am not interested in his wife, that dull as ditch water, Frances! Why should I not ask him, he is my good friend? The best friend I have. Because he is a favourite of the queen, you cannot forbid it; he is coming for my twentieth birthday and you cannot change it.”

  Bess and Arbella, now back at Old Hardwick Hall, are eating breakfast when Arbella makes this announcement, much to the fury of her grandmother. William and Anne sit in silence, watching and listening as they try to eat.

  “You will change it, you will write today and cancel the visit.”

  Arbella looks at Bess triumphantly. “It will look very strange if I do that, lady grandmother; the queen knows of it.”

  Bess reflects on her last encounter with the earl and realises she will have to do some quick thinking. She finds him a dangerous adversary due to his unwholesome influence on Arbella, and his streak of self-destructive ambition, which she recognised some while ago. It will not be possible to stop the visit now, she realises that much, but she can certainly have control over the circumstances under which Arbella will see him in her own home. It also occurs to her that the visit will serve as a reminder to the queen that Arbella is still unmarried, and has not been to Court for these three years, so it is not all unwelcome news.

  She smiles and pushes her plate away, wiping her mouth on a linen napkin.

  “Very well child, I shall entertain the earl as you wish for your birthday, and I shall do so with good grace, although it goes against my better judgement to have him here.”

  Arbella looks smug. “Good, I am glad you have seen the sense of it, lady grandmother.”

  “I will start to plan his welcome at once.” She turns to William, “Will you write to all the family and say I shall expect them to join us?”

  William nods in acquiescence, his mouth full of food. Arbella’s face falls at this instruction.

  “Oh no, it is not necessary for all the family to be here as well! I want it to be an informal visit, he will only be joined by two friends.”

  “Arbella, his visit is a great honour,” she says smoothly. “It would be unthinkable not to invite the family and our friends in the neighbourhood, especially for your birthday.”

  “But I had planned it to be a very quiet visit …”

  “It is out of your hands now, Arbella. There will be many people wishing to meet him and spend time in his company, we must not deny them the opportunity.”

  “As long as I will have some time with him, I suppose it will be all right.”

  “Do not get your hopes up, child, I doubt there will be any time for you to see him unless it is in sight of everyone.”

  “But it is my birthday!” she says petulantly.

  “And you shall have a wonderful time, as you always do on such occasions.”

  Bess gets up and Arbella can only glower in frustration that she has been out manoeuvred by her grandmother, and it looks as if the visit will not be at all what she
had hoped. William and Anne exchange a look of despair, the frequent clashes between Bess and Arbella make for an uncomfortable atmosphere in the house, but they can do nothing to help ease the tensions between the two women. By the time of Arbella’s birthday and the Earl of Essex’s arrival, Bess has ensured that everything possible has been done to provide the best comfort, food, lavish entertainment, hunting and sport for her guests. On the second and last evening, Arbella is becoming desperate to spend some time alone with her hero. She has been thwarted at every turn by circumstances, and Bess always seems to be one step ahead of her. The earl is never seated next to Arbella at any meal, William and Charles monopolise him at every opportunity, apparently eager to hear of his military views on defeating the Spanish or subduing the Irish.Bess keeps him occupied from dawn to dusk with every outdoor sport that she can offer. All the frustrated Arbella can do is gaze forlornly at her hero from the other side of the table.

  Bess has avoided any conversation with the earl other than banal pleasantries, but she finds herself unavoidably alone at the table with him during a dance. He pours himself some wine and leans back in his chair as if quite at ease.

  “It must have cost you dear to allow my visit, countess”

  “Do you mean in monetary terms or my conscience?”

  “Nothing so sordid as to refer to the cost. Of course I meant you do not wish me to be here with access to your precious jewel.” He looks across at where Arbella is dancing reluctantly with an elderly friend of the family.

  “Have I given you that impression?”

  “No, you have been the perfect hostess. I shall tell the queen I was treated like a king when I return to London.”

  “I believe you could easily become accustomed to such treatment,” replies Bess lightly.

  “What are you implying? That I have the highest of aspirations?”

  “I am implying nothing, but in truth you cannot deny it, can you?”

  “I think you are trying to trap me, countess!” He laughs. “All I wish to do is to serve our queen. As you can see from the honours she gives me, my efforts are much appreciated.”

  Bess stays silent and he lights his pipe, blowing smoke over her and laughing to himself.

  “Still no husband for your prize jewel,” he says and shakes his head. “She must be wondering if she is ever to marry, at twenty years of age, she is not so young.”

  “A suitable husband will be found, in good time,” replies Bess.

  “Of course, I am sure they are queuing up all over Europe for the privilege. Whether or not the queen will ever give permission for her to marry is another matter.”

  “There is still plenty of time, do not trouble yourself to give it any thought.”

  “I do not, countess, I have much more important matters to occupy me.” He leans across and lowers his voice, “You do me wrong to believe that I wish to seduce your granddaughter. I am an honourable man, despite what you may think of me. I feel sorry for Lady Arbella, she is a sweet girl who is a pawn in a game over which she has no control. She has an unhappy life and I am afraid for her as I cannot see that it will improve.”

  “Arbella does not need your pity!” responds Bess crisply. “What a shame your visit will end tomorrow. Excuse me.”

  She gets up and he places his hand over hers in a firm grip.

  “If I have spoken out of turn, you must forgive me. I am a soldier first and foremost, my language is sometimes clumsy.”

  Despite these sentiments, apparently expressed so sincerely, Bess pulls her hand away and with a cold stare at him, she makes her way over to where William is standing and watching the dancing.

  “Is everything all right, lady mother?” he asks, having seen the way Bess left the table.

  “Quite all right,” she replies. “The earl and I do not always agree on certain matters so our conversations are always lively.”

  They look at each other knowingly.

  “I see,” he says. “Our guests will be leaving tomorrow and you can relax again.”

  “How is Anne this evening?”

  “Tired, little Gilbert is teething and she attends to him herself rather than leave it to the nurse. She is not getting much sleep.”

  “Being with child so soon has not helped matters,” Bess tells him, a slight reproach in her voice.

  “I know, it was not our intention, but you will soon have an army of grandchildren to dote on at this rate.”

  “And I love them all,” she says, her mood changing whenever they are mentioned. “But I am weary tonight, I shall go to my bed.”

  Signalling for Ruby, who waits in the corner, she takes her arm and they leave together. William is suprised; he has never known his mother to retire this early before.

  New Hardwick Hall is still unfinished, but Bess is impatient to live there, so she decides to move in anyway, in time to celebrate her seventieth birthday. Anne and William’s son Wylkyn (7) is now a boisterous, energetic boy, but there is great sadness when their son, Gilbert, dies the year before, as well as two daughters who do not survive infancy. Their only daughter alive now is little Frances, but Anne is expecting another child due in the spring of 1598, much to everyone’s joy.

  31 October 1597

  Today the two houses are in a state of disarray, as all the household items that Bess has been storing over the years are moved into the New Hall. There is furniture from Chatsworth brought over in covered carts, protected against the drizzle that began at first light. Crates, carpets, trunks and coffers containing clothes, linens, bedding, paintings, thick curtains, rugs, plate, Arbella’s books, her lute, virginals and personal possessions are all gradually put into place before Bess’ birthday on the 4th of November.

  A family celebration is planned, this time organised by William and Charles, and they are in the kitchen to look at the food for the big day. In one of the pantries the cook has placed dishes of venison, geese, peacocks, pheasants, partridges, larks, quails, capons, a swan and a whole pig roast. A long oak table holds large silver plates of salmon, turbot, anchovies, oysters and eel in vinegar sauce, together with bowls of green salad leaves such as mint, fennel, watercress, cucumber and parsley. There are dishes of boiled potatoes for those daring enough to try such a new vegetable. They inspect the cheese and custard tarts, preserved fruits, jellies, marzipan moulded into flowers and animals, their delicate edges tinged with gold leaf.

  “A fine feast,” murmurs William, his mouth watering.

  The cook stands watching, his hands on his hips, coughing noisily if either of them look likely to sample any of the food. They manage to leave with a pasty each, and eat it standing by the blazing fire in the Hall.

  “Our lady mother seems in good health,” observes Charles. “She is indestructible.”

  “Indomitable.”

  “Inexhaustible.” They both laugh.

  “Infallible?”

  “No, I cannot allow that one!” Charles almost chokes on a piece of pastry.

  “Seriously, she is upset that you always take Gilbert’s side against her,” William says.

  “She misjudges him all the time. They do not always have to be enemies, think how well they used to be together. I sometimes used to think she preferred Gilbert to us.”

  At this William looks astounded. “I have never thought so.”

  “Well, Gilbert and Mary need my friendship as never before. I am not going to forsake them just to keep our mother happy.”

  “I think you are making a mistake. Gilbert has a lot of his father’s personality. Do you not see how he has been making trouble for his family and friends?”

  “He has never made trouble for me.”

  William makes a sound of defeat and changes the subject; an argument with his brother is the last thing he wants. “Has work commenced on your own new house at Kirkby-in-Ashby yet?”

  “They are laying the foundations as we speak, in the meantime I am renting Welbeck Abbey from Gilbert, Catherine likes it there.”

  “
Have you seen the outside carvings here at the top of the towers yet?”

  “No, the stonemasons were still working on them the last time I looked; what has been done?”

  “Come and see for yourself.”

  William and Charles make their way towards the front door and walk outside until they are about forty feet away, before turning round to face the front of the house. Charles gives an enormous gasp of awe, staring up at what he sees. For Bess has proclaimed her wealth and power to the world; her initials ES stand in large carved letters at the top of the six roof top corner pavilions. Resting above each set of initials, sits the coronets of a countess, surrounded by stone scroll embellishments. The building itself, made of sandstone from Bess’ own quarries, is dominated by windows which become bigger as they reach the upper floor; already the locals have a rhyme about it, ‘Hardwick Hall, more glass than wall.’ There can be no doubt who the house belongs to, nor the achievements and confidence of its builder and owner. The two brothers do not speak, but look at one another in wonder; this is a triumph of self-promotion on a grand and magnificent scale.

  From her bedchamber window, Bess sees her two sons standing and admiring her initials, and smiles to herself. Her expensive new home is the result of years of careful planning, and she is delighted with the effect.

  “Am I to have my own chamber at last, lady grandmother?” Her thoughts are disturbed as Bess sees Arbella coming towards her.

  “Not exactly, child. There will still be a bed in my own chamber, but there is a smaller chamber for you, which you may use as a study, and sleep in when I think it is safe to do so. Your lady-in-waiting will have a chamber adjacent to you.”

  “I am twenty-one years old now!” She exclaims with feeling. “I should have my own chamber, it is so unfair!”

  “I quite agree, but this is the price you must pay for being who you are. Would you rather be a maid living in the servants quarters with two coins to your name?”

  “Yes! I think I would, for nothing could be worse than this captivity. Mr. Starkey tells me I am lucky to be so protected from the world; what does he know?”