by Georgina Lee
“The old countess is not letting her leave,” someone says.
There are cries of “shame!” which heartens Arbella’s resolve, but her exit is blocked by a dozen burly men, all in the Cavendish livery, who regard them impassively.
“Did you hear my uncle? I command you to open these gates!” Arbella shouts to them. The men remain still, staring straight ahead. “Who is in charge here?”
“I am, highness.” One of the men steps forward and Henry goes up to him, his voice low.
“I will give you money if you let us through, here, a gold coin.”
“I cannot take it, sir. I have my orders.”
He looks up to where Bess is watching the proceedings with William and Elizabeth.
“Come along man, can you not see the cruelty of keeping the Lady Arbella here against her will? Look, I will make it two gold coins, you cannot refuse now.”
“Sorry, sir. I take my orders from the countess, no-one else,” the man replies and turns back in line with the others.
Arbella stamps her foot in frustration and whispers to Henry, “it is no matter, I will pass anyway, they will not dare to lay a finger on me.”
But Arbella is in for a shock if she thinks the men will shrink from physically restraining her. As she comes forward to push her way through the line, they hold firm and two of them grasp her shoulders, their arms locked. With the little strength she has anyway, she quickly realises that they are not going to budge. Meanwhile Henry is trying to pull her towards the gate and an unseemly scuffle takes place. The men position themselves to stand between Arbella and Henry, slowing pushing Henry one way and Arbella the other.
“Let … me … pass!” She pants.
“Henry, what is happening?” John Stapleton is still holding the horses in the lane, unable to see them.
“They will not let Lady Arbella out!” Henry shouts as Arbella is pushed further and further back from him.
“I will have to leave,” he tells her. “It is too dangerous, I fear you will get hurt; I will think of another plan”
“No, no! Do not leave me here!” she wails. Just as Henry is finally pushed through the gates, he looks up at the window where Bess is watching, and scowls at her in sulky displeasure. There is a slam as the gatekeeper shuts the door firmly and locks it. Arbella collapses to the ground in a torrent of frustrated and angry tears.
Upstairs, Elizabeth turns to Bess. “May I go her?”
Bess nods. “Take her straight to bed. I will send up a camomile tisane to calm her.”
Elizabeth runs outside, and they watch as she helps Arbella to her feet. Now the gates are secure, the men disperse to their other duties and leave the two women to make their way back inside the house, Arbella leaning heavily on Elizabeth for support. Henry is still cursing as he mounts his horse, and they ride off at a gallop; Arbella hears them leaving and gives a cry of despair. It has been a humiliating failure for Henry, and he will be in no hurry to try again.
William helps Bess to sit down again, concerned that she looks so strained. “That was well done, lady mother,” he tells her. “Your men are very loyal.”
“Yes,” she agrees with a hint of resignation. “Some of them have been with me for many years, and their fathers before them. This story will be all over the village by the end of the day.”
“You cannot stop it from being talked about.”
“But it makes me look so heartless.”
“People know it is not you, but the queen who insists that Arbella is kept here.”
“Do they? Sometimes I am not so sure. Arbella has convinced herself that I am responsible for all her misery. No matter how many times I tell her, she does not believe me.”
“She does not wish to believe you. It is easier for her to blame you, than to blame the queen.”
“But I know now that the queen will not allow her to marry while she is still on the throne. It has taken me years to realise it. There was never going to be any marriage, to a foreign prince or a noble Englishman. It was all a sham.”
“While the queen lives, yes, but afterwards there will be hope surely?”
“Who knows? We shall have a Stuart king. Years ago I had high hopes that he might marry Arbella, but that was not to be either.”
“They say the Danish Queen Anne is unhappy in the marriage and James is a poor husband. At least Arbella is spared that fate.”
“Yes, poor Anne, I hear he prefers the company of men.”
They look at one another meaningfully. James’ preference for men, and the honours he showers on his favourites, are well known.
“I am getting so tired of these episodes with Arbella,” she says wearily. “It is not what I had planned for my old age. All I want is to live quietly and peacefully here, seeing my family and working at my business interests. I do not have the same energy to cope with it all. Arbella hates me in a way that no grandchild should, I can see it in her face when she looks at me, despite all I have done for her over the years. I have loved that child as if she was my own; I would die for her.” She looks at him with tears in her eyes. “The one thing that I wanted for so long will never happen. I have achieved much, it is true, but pleasing the queen and doing my duty has brought about the breakdown of my relationship with Arbella.”
“She is not the easiest of people, so highly strung and emotional.”
“I should not have spoilt her so much, it has not done her any good. I could not help it, William, when her parents died and Margaret Lennox too, she had no-one else but me.”
“You must not feel guilty, you did your best for her.”
“Whatever shall I do if James wants to keep her here too?”
“He will want her at Court,” he hastily reassures her. “She is a Stuart and his cousin. Once he is king, he will send for her, I am sure of it.”
“But when he sees her! So very underweight and ill. They will all think I have been neglecting her.”
“No, they will not think that, lady mother. You are worrying too much.”
Bess wipes her eyes and gets up. “This has not been a good start to your visit and I am sorry for it.”
“We wish to help in any way we can. Why do you not go away for few days and have a rest? Perhaps stay with the Manners family at Haddon Hall, I am sure they would be delighted to see you; Elizabeth and I will stay here with Arbella.”
“I shall think on it, thank you, William.” She looks at him tenderly. “I sometimes wonder what I would do without you and Frances, my only two children now to still be part of my life.”
“Now then, do not become maudlin, it does not become you.”
“A sign of old age,” she replies. “I miss my other grandchildren more than I can say. One day I may be reconciled with Mary and Charles, but Henry …”Suddenly she becomes decisive. “I have had enough of their antics; I shall add a codicil to my will revoking the bequests I have made to Henry and Arbella. They both go too far.”
William sees the set of her jaw, and does not attempt to persuade her otherwise.
“Come, you must show me the work in the gardens. We saw the men digging as we arrived.”
They make their way outside and William gives a sigh of relief that he has managed to distract his mother from her problems and worries. He hopes for all their sakes that the death of the queen will be soon.
27 March 1603
The letter that Bess and Arbella have been so urgently waiting for finally arrives just before dark, carrying news that the queen has died three days previously and James VI of Scotland is now James I of England. When Bess opens it, she is alone, but quickly summons everyone, from William, Elizabeth and Arbella, to the lowest and youngest servant in the house. It takes some time for everyone to assemble, but this is an historic moment and she wants to give it due recognition.
She stares at the writing, almost disbelievingly that it has finally happened. She knew the queen when she was still Princess Elizabeth, and they did indeed ‘grow old together.’ As godmother to
both Henry and Charles, she was a part of their lives, albeit at a distance. Bess is acutely aware that it is the end of an era and brings uncertainty for the future. She makes the announcement without fuss and it is received quietly with a few sobs from the women. Most of the ladies, gentlemen and servants have known no other monarch and they shake their head sadly. Arbella receives the news with apparent calm and runs back to her chamber to order the packing of her clothes in readiness. But she still has to wait for the new king to send for her.
April 1603
William and Elizabeth leave at once for London where they will wait for King James to make his entry into the city and take his throne. Other members of the Court have already made their way to Scotland to be amongst the first to swear allegiance to him, and Bess has heard that Gilbert intends to invite the king to stay at his house in Worksop as he travels south. She has a pang of envy which she quickly supresses. The house at Worksop is the one that George built so proudly and which cost him so much money. He would have been pleased beyond words to know that James will be staying there. Bess realises that her own dreams of entertaining royalty at Hardwick will never come true, and she thinks to herself that Gilbert and Mary will no doubt be even more out of pocket after entertaining the king and all his retinue. Bess has no choice now but to move her granddaughter to an antechamber just off her main bedchamber, but the two women are still within sight of one another. When the letter from King James finally arrives, Bess asks a servant to bring Arbella at once.
There is a knock at her study door and Arbella comes in, looking gaunt with dark shadows under her eyes. She crosses her arms and stares at the floor; her gown looks too big, as if it has been made for someone else.
“Sit down, child” says Bess gently. “How has it come to this between us? Will you not even look at me?”
“I prefer to stand.” She looks up, focusing on the parchment which rests in front of Bess. “Is that the letter from King James telling me I can leave now?”
Bess exhales heavily.
“Since the death of our dear queen, I have been waiting to hear my instructions regarding your care. I have now heard and I wanted to tell you without delay. His majesty has decreed that you are to go to the Earl of Kent as soon as possible, from there on to London when the king himself arrives, and you can join the royal party.”
Arbella does not respond and Bess wonders if she has heard.
“Well, child, this is what you wanted, you will soon be gone from this place.”
“Why do you still call me ‘child’? It is many years since I was a child, I am now a woman!”
“I call you “child” because to me, I will always see you as that little girl when you first came to live with me. I am sorry if you do not like it.”
When Arbella finally looks at her grandmother, all the years of frustration and heartache are visible in her face. “Has the king given any hint of what my future holds?”
“Not yet, but he will. You are the highest-ranking female relative of the late queen. And you are a Stuart, as is the king himself.”
“Will I have to attend the late queen’s funeral?”
“Of course, it will be expected of you.”
“I was often refused permission to come to Court and see the queen when she was alive, why should I go now that she is dead? I do not see why I should. No, I shall not attend the funeral!”
“But you must go to the funeral, Arbella, it would be unthinkable for you to refuse.”
“There is no more ‘must’ from you, lady grandmother. I am free of you now, do you not understand? I can do as I wish.”
“No, you will not be able to do as you wish. That is something you will have to learn. There will be restrictions at the Court of King James, and you will have to make your own way there. I do not think it will be easy for you, but I hope that you will remember all I have taught you and be a credit to your family.”
“Is that all you think about? What people will say?” Arbella leans on the desk, the veins on her painfully thin arms are like the twisted roots of a tree. “My parents would never have allowed me to be a prisoner here away from all the excitement of the Court and London. I will never forgive you for it!”
“Your parents could not have prevented it, just as I have not been able to. You have not had such a bad life here Arbella, you have had every luxury in life and your education …”
“My education! Yes, much good it has done me!” She spits the words out. “I hear the king despises educated women, and thinks they should not be taught anything. My costly education will do me no good at Court whatsoever, you have wasted your money!”
“I did my best for you. I have always loved you and always will.”
“Do not talk to me of love! I should have been loved by my husband, if I had been allowed to have one. You have never been concerned for me; I have just been a pawn in your grand schemes. You have always been driven by your ruthless ambition, which has dominated your life and been the ruin of mine! I used to think your husband’s speeches about you were the result of his confused and jealous mind, I certainly know better now.”
“Without my ambitions my family would not be where it is today. You would not have had fine gowns and jewellery and servants …”
“… I care nothing for all that!”
“That is easy for you to say, child.”
“Will you stop calling me that!” she screams.
They regard one another in silence, then when Arbella speaks first, her voice finds a new confidence.
“Well, all your hopes for me have come to nothing. The great Bess of Hardwick, with all her power and money, has not been able to marry me off to a prince, nor secure me a place at Court. I have never wished to be queen; I have only ever wanted a normal life. How does it make you feel to know those years have been wasted? Shall I tell you how I feel?”
Bess does not get a chance to reply as Arbella continues, hardly pausing for breath.
“The years spent with you have been like a torture for me, I am like a fly caught in your web, trapped and alone. But you did not care did you? As long as you can plan a glittering future for me and tell yourself I am destined for greatness, you are content. Well I have news for you, I am not destined for a crown and I never have been. If I had been born a man then it would have been different.”
“This is not all about your feelings!” responds Bess. “Of course you are angry and resentful about your life, but I have done my best for you in difficult circumstances. I could not go against the queen, I had no choice but to obey, you must see that. Was it so wrong of me to hope you would eventually have the best marriage in the land? Why must my family always make me feel guilty for wanting the best for them?”
“Because it is not about the best for them is it? It is the best for you. We must all conform to your wishes and if we do not, then we are cast out. Uncle Henry lives a miserable life in Tutbury Castle because you do not help him, your own flesh and blood. Uncle Gilbert, Aunt Mary and Uncle Charles are all estranged from you. What a family we are!”
“That is enough!” snaps Bess. “You are quick to judge, but you do not know the whole facts. In any case, such matters are no concern of yours.”
Arbella gives her a triumphant look.
“The king will decide what is best for me now. Let us pray he is not afraid to have me near to his person, and will give me some hope for a happier future.”
“That is also my wish for you,” Bess says quietly, her anger quickly disappearing.
“Am I free to go now?”
“Yes, I will arrange transport at once to take you to Bedford at first light tomorrow. You may take all your servants of course. Will you write to me?” She cannot control the tremble in her voice; she has never felt so vulnerable. The question hangs in the air unanswered; Bess can hold back her tears no longer and buries her face in her hands.
“You are breaking my heart!” she sobs.
Arbella stares at her with fierce hatred before leav
ing quietly, her head held high and ignores the stares of the servants scrubbing the stone floor outside the door.
Hardwick Hall Gardens –
August 1603
On warm summer afternoons, Bess likes to take the air and walk round the gardens, her stick a useful aid, as she is sometimes a little unsteady on her feet. Caesar is also slower as he follows her, sniffing and digging the flowerbeds whenever the mood takes him. There is a gentle breeze blowing which ruffles her hair beneath her white cap, and she pushes some stray tendrils back into place. The soft cooing from the dovecote and a gardener turning the earth with his spade are the only sounds. There is nowhere on earth she would rather be than here. Since Arbella’s departure it was surprising how quickly the house found peace again. It was as if a great weight had been lifted, not just from Bess’ shoulders, but also from the servants, who now only had an old woman to care for. As long as they all go about their work efficiently, their mistress is content and leaves them to get on with it. Her business affairs are just as complex and successful, although now she tires easily and feels the cold winters more than ever. As William is often in London attending to his duties as a Member of Parliament, Timothy has taken over his share of the work and Bess rewards him well for it, increasing his salary proportionally. Frances and Elizabeth visit her each week, usually separately, to make it two visits for her, instead of one. Elizabeth does not particularly relish each visit, but William has asked her specifically to check on his mother while he is away, so she feels obliged. Bess hears the coach arriving and walks along the path to greet her outside the door. As always, Elizabeth is a picture of beauty and elegance. She has dark, glossy hair and a porcelain complexion, made all the more attractive by her deep blue eyes and generous mouth, which is usually quick to smile. William’s two sons have accepted her easily enough, although she finds being Bess’ daughter-in-law a more daunting role. As the coach draws to a halt, she gives Bess a wave.