by Alison Weir
'Where he is, or what he doth, or what he is to do, we are ignorant!' she stormed, regretting that she had sent him. Exasperated she ordered him home.
'I see Your Majesty is content to ruin me,' he replied with equal heat. Burghley, suspecting that in reality she wanted to see him, commented: 'God forbid that private respects should overrule public' The evidence indeed suggests that Elizabeth allowed her heart to override her head on this occasion.
Before Essex left France, he knighted twenty-four of his supporters against her express wishes, a rash act that appeared sinister to those who feared he was building up a power base for his own purposes. From Elizabeth's point of view, the Crown alone was the fount of honour, and to make new knights so indiscriminately could only debase her prerogative. Burghley tried to shield Essex from her wrath by not telling her what he had done, but she found out all the same, and commented ominously that 'His Lordship had done well to build his almshouses before he made his knights.'
Yet when Essex returned and exerted his charm, peace was restored, and after a few days, thanks to Burghley's influence, he was sent back to Rouen to rejoin his troops. From here, he wrote to the Queen:
Most fair, most dear, and most excellent sovereign: the two windows of your Privy Chamber shall be the poles of my sphere, where, as long as Your Majesty will fix to have me, I am fixed and immoveable. While Your Majesty gives me leave to say I love you, my fortune is as my affection, unmatchable. If ever you deny me that liberty, you may end my life, but never shake my constancy, for it is not in your power, as great a queen as you are, to make me love you less.
The campaign ended in disaster. Essex took the town of Gournay 'rather a jest than a victory' observed the Queen - but that was all. His army succumbed to disease, and morale was low, three thousand men died of illness or deserted, and his brother was killed in a skirmish. When Elizabeth complained of his lack of progress, Essex, ill with ague, wrote miserably to her, complaining that her unkindness had broken 'both my heart and my wits'. He had managed to salvage his honour by winning a friendly single combat with the Governor of Rouen, but this was small comfort. When the Queen ordered him to resign his command and return home, he blamed Burghley and Cecil, quite unfairly, for what had happened, believing that they had poisoned Elizabeth's mind against him.
In November 1591, the Queen visited Ely Place to see her faithful Hatton, who was very ill, administering to him 'cordial broths with her own hands'. He died shortly afterwards of kidney failure, owing her , 56,000. Some said he had died of a broken heart because Elizabeth had hounded him to the grave, asking for repayment, but this is unlikely. His death plunged her again into grief: it seemed that all those to whom she had been close were being taken from her.
For a time, she was melancholy, obsessed with fearful thoughts of death, hating any word that reminded her of it. Once, when Lord North was acting as her carver, she asked him what was in the covered dish.
'Madam, it is a coffin,' he replied, 'coffin' being a contemporary word for a raised pie, but one that now moved the Queen to anger.
'Are you such a fool to give a pie such a name?' she shouted. Her reaction 'gave warning to the courtiers not to use any word that mentioned her death'.
Essex returned to England in January 1592. He had hoped to find that his application to be elected Chancellor of Oxford University had been approved, but was furious to learn that Cecil's candidate, Lord Buckhurst, had been chosen instead. Jealous complaints availed him nothing, so he decided belatedly to take Francis Bacon's advice and aim for high political office, with a view to breaking the hold on power enjoyed by the Cecils.
When, the following month, Anthony Bacon returned from France, Essex enlisted his support. Anthony was a difficult individual whose uncertain temper was aggravated by arthritis, yet he was more than willing to use his considerable talents in Essex's service. It was decided that he would help the Earl to build up his own intelligence network, hoping thereby to impress upon the Queen that, being so well informed, Essex deserved political credibility and must be taken seriously. Essex also began courting the favour of the Protestant Henry IV.
But it was not enough: he craved attention and excitement. By March, he was hanging irritably around the court, 'wholly inflamed with the desire to be doing somewhat', only to be told by Francis Bacon that he should be working towards becoming 'a great man in the state' rather than hankering after the military glory which constantly seemed to evade him. With so many of the Queen's advisers having died, there would surely now be an opening for him, and he should capitalise on this.
Bess Throckmorton had invented a pretext to secure leave of absence from court in February, and, seeking refuge in her brother's house, gave birth to a son in March. For some time now, her thickening figure had given rise to rumours at court, some of them pinpointing with deadly accuracy the father of her child. But Raleigh denied it, declaring, 'There is none on the face of the Earth I would be fastened unto.'
In April, Bess returned to court, where it could easily be observed that she had dramatically lost weight. The rumours became more insistent, until in May Raleigh's 'brutish offence' became known to the Queen, who, as one courtier wrote, was 'most fiercely incensed and threatens the most bitter punishment to both the offenders. S.W.R. will lose, it is thought, all his places and preferments at court, with the Queen's favour; such will be the end of his speedy rising, and now he must fall as low as he was high, at which the many may rejoice.'
Raleigh was away at sea, harrying Spanish ships at Panama, but he was 'speedily sent for and brought back' in the deepest disgrace, having committed the unforgivable crime of duping his sovereign, seducing a noble virgin committed to her care, and marrying without royal consent - the last two being punishable offences. Worse still was Elizabeth's||
bitter sense of betrayal, for Raleigh had for a decade been one of her chief favourites, and this marriage seemed to mock all his protestations of devotion to her.
In June, Elizabeth sent him and Bess to the Tower, where they were lodged in separate apartments. Raleigh was not strictly kept: he was allowed to walk in the gardens and probably managed to see his wife, but he was desperate to be free and did everything in his power to achieve that.
On July, being told that Elizabeth was about to leave London to go on progress, he wrote to Cecil:
My heart was never broken until this day that I hear the Queen goes so far off, whom I have followed so many years with so great love and desire in so many journeys, and am now left behind her in a dark prison all alone. While she was yet at hand, so that I might hear of her once in two or three days, my sorrows were less, but even now my heart is cast into the depths of misery. I that was wont to behold her riding like Alexander, hunting like Diana, walking like Venus, the gentle wind blowing her fair hair about her pure cheeks like a nymph; sometimes sitting in the shade like a goddess, sometimes singing like an angel, sometimes playing like Orpheus.Behold the sorrow of this world! One amiss has bereaved me of all. She is gone in whom I trusted, and for me has not one thought of mercy. Yours, not worth any name or title, W.R.
Later that day, learning that the Queen's barge would be passing the Tower, he begged the Lieutenant, his cousin Sir George Carew, to row him out on the Thames so that he could see her and hopefully attract her attention, but the Lieutenant did not dare. Carew later reported to the Queen that Raleigh tried to kill himself at this point, and was only prevented from doing so by another official, who wrenched the dagger out of his grip, cutting his own hand in the process. Carew also warned Elizabeth that Raleigh would go insane if she did not forgive him, but she remained unmoved.
Raleigh was not to remain in the Tower for long. Early in August, a captured Spanish treasure ship was brought into Dartmouth carrying jewels worth - 800,000. Most was appropriated by English sailors and local people, and when the Earl of Cumberland arrived to claim the Queen's share, there was a riot. Knowing that Raleigh was the only man capable of restoring order and ensuring that the
treasure was fairly apportioned, the Queen agreed to his release. When he arrived at Dartmouth, he received a rapturous welcome from the sailors, but by then most of the jewels had disappeared. However, he managed to salvage Elizabeth's portion, but only at the expense of other investors, including himself.
Elizabeth allowed Raleigh to remain at liberty, but barred him from the court. Nor did her displeasure abate, for he was obliged to live quietly, 'like a fish cast on dry land', for the next five years at Sherborne Castle, the Devon property granted him by the Queen the previous January. Bess, who would prove a domineering wife, joined him there after her release in December.
A mysterious portrait by Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger in the National Maritime Museum is thought to illustrate Raleigh's disgrace. Recent cleaning has revealed that this portrait of a man was overpainted to look like Raleigh, and has also uncovered the tiny figure of a woman in the background, with her back turned to the sitter. She wears a coronet over her red hair and a chain of office around her neck, and holds a feather fan, and it would be reasonable to assume that this is the Queen herself, shunning Sir Walter in her displeasure. Essex was among the many who gloated over the fall of Raleigh, which removed one of his greatest rivals.
Whilst the Queen was on progress that summer, England experienced the worst visitation of the plague for many years. In order to avoid London, she travelled west to Sudeley Castle in Gloucestershire and then towards Bath. She had by now forgiven Harington for Orlando Furioso, and visited him at Kelston, near Bath, where he humbly presented her with a beautifully bound copy of his completed translation.
Elizabeth was in her element. One German visitor observed that she need not 'yield much to a girl of sixteen', either in looks or vigour. In September, she visited Oxford again, where she replied in extempore Latin to the loyal speeches made to her, watched the presentation of honorary degrees, and attended debates, sermons, lectures, dinners and three rather dull comedies. On the final day of her visit, she delivered a parting address, saying, 'If I had a thousand tongues instead of one, I would not be able to express my thanks.' Then, noticing that poor Burghley was having difficulty in standing, she broke off and ordered that a stool be brought. 'If I have always undertaken the care of your bodies, shall I neglect your minds?' she concluded. 'God forbid!'
On Shotover Hill, looking back on the city, she said, 'Farewell, farewell, dear Oxford! God bless thee and increase thy sons in number, holiness and virtue.' She then travelled to Rycote to stay with her old friends, Lord and Lady Norris.
At New Year, the court was diverted with masques and other novelties. By February 1593, Essex's intelligence service was well established, and the Queen was so impressed with it that she at last appointed him a Privy Councillor, at the youthful age of twenty-seven. He could now play his part as a statesman, and he did it diligently, attending every Council meeting and co-operating with his rivals for the benefit of the state. 'His Lordship is become a new man', wrote a colleague, 'clean forsaking all his former youthful tricks, carrying himself with honourable gravity, and singularly liked for his speeches and judgement.' Where a knowledge of foreign affairs was concerned, there were few to match him. But being Essex, he was determined to exploit his position, and virtually bankrupted himself in extending his patronage.
When the post of Attorney-General, which was in the Queen's gift, became vacant in April, he exerted his influence to secure it for Francis Bacon. But Bacon had recently challenged the granting of a subsidy to the Crown in Parliament, and Elizabeth was not at all pleased with him. When Essex put his name forward, she erupted in fury and barred Bacon from her presence.
For several months, Essex did all in his power to win her round, believing that 'there is not so much gotten of the Queen by earnestness as by often soliciting', yet despite all his arguments and pleas, she insisted that the irascible Sir Edward Coke, now Solicitor-General, was a better lawyer than Bacon, and remained 'stiff in her opinion', often being too busy or 'wayward' to discuss the matter. She told the importunate Earl that 'she would be advised by those that had more judgement in these things', and he told Bacon that, during one argument, 'She bade me go to bed if I could talk of nothing else. In passion I went away. Tomorrow I will go to her. On Thursday, I will write an expostulating letter.'
Philip of Spain had not abandoned his dream of conquering England for the Catholic faith and, having almost rebuilt his navy, 'breathed nothing but bloody revenge'. England stood again in danger of invasion, but a confident Elizabeth told Parliament,
I fear not all his threatenings. His great preparations and mighty forces do not stir me. For though he come against me with a greater power than ever was, I doubt not but, God assisting me, I shall be able to defeat and overthrow him. For my cause is just, and it standeth upon a sure foundation - that I shall not fail, God assisting the quarrel of the righteous.
Parliament duly voted her a treble subsidy, for which she gave them 'as great thanks as ever prince gave to loving subjects'. When winds prevented the Spanish fleet from sailing that summer, Elizabeth put it down to the elements being in her favour, perceiving the workings of Divine Providence in such good fortune.
In July, Elizabeth was horrified to learn that her ally, Henry IV, in order to establish himself more securely on the French throne, had converted to the Roman Catholic faith, declaring that 'Paris is worth a mass.' She wrote to him: 'Ah, what griefs, what regret, what groanings I feel in my soul at the sound of such news! It is dangerous to do ill that good may come of it, yet I hope that sounder inspiration shall come to you.' Her fears were allayed when he reissued his edicts of religious tolerance, and she did not cease to support him in his conflict with Spain, the happy outcome of which could only benefit England.
That summer saw an even worse epidemic of plague than the previous year. The London theatres were closed, and, apart from brief visits to Sutton Place in Surrey, and Parham Park and Cowdray Park in Sussex, the Queen remained mainly at Windsor until Christmas. Here she celebrated her sixtieth birthday and spent her time translating Boethius, mostly in her own hand, in just twelve days. Her secretary informed her that, out of the twenty-five days between 10 October and 5 November, are to be taken four Sundays, three other holidays, and six days on which Your Majesty did ride abroad to take the air, and on those days did forbear to translate, amounting together to thirteen days. Then remaineth but twelve days. Accounting two hours bestowed every day, the computation falleth out that in twenty-four hours Your Majesty began and ended your translation.
The manuscript survives, in a haphazard scrawl, with inconsistent spelling, and corrections by the Queen.
Winter came, and the Queen still prevaricated over appointing a new Attorney-General. Essex continued to importune her to choose Bacon, but she was determined to make her own choice; if she did not establish firm control over Essex, people would think that advancing age was diminishing her powers. So she ignored his tears of frustration, and endured when he stayed away from court in the hope that his absence would sway her. None of this made for a happy atmosphere, for when he returned she berated him with tirades and great oaths for leaving her. Then there would be an emotional reconciliation, and all would be well until the subject was raised again.
Early in 1594, Burghley begged the Queen to reach a decision as to who was to be Attorney-General. Essex had provoked him, asserting, 'I will spend all my power, might, authority and amity, and with tooth and nail defend and procure the same for Bacon.' And so the matter dragged on.
Elizabeth celebrated the New Year at Whitehall, watching a play and some dances until one o'clock in the morning from a luxurious high throne, with Essex, her 'wild horse', standing by. Anthony Standen, an elderly courtier, saw her often speak to the Earl and caress him 'in sweet and favourable manner', and gallantly remarked that 'she was as beautiful to my old sight as ever I saw her'. It had, however, been a stressful day, for Essex had uncovered a plot against the Queen, and the principal offender, someone very close to her, had j
ust been arrested.
Roderigo Lopez was a Portuguese Jew, who had fled to England to escape the Inquisition in 1559, converted to Christianity, and set up a medical practice in London which had flourished. In time, he became senior doctor at St Bartholemew's Hospital, and men like Leicester, Walsingham and Essex became his patients. In 1586 he had been appointed chief physician to the Queen.
Because he was a Jew, Lopez was not popular: rumour credited him with having provided Leicester with poisons, and jealous rivals denigrated his undoubted skill as a physician. He had many enemies, among them Essex, whose spy he had refused to become and whose intimate physical shortcomings, confided to him as a doctor, he is said to have leaked. Elizabeth paid no attention to this and, thanks to her favour and his mounting wealth, Lopez could afford to ignore it also.
Essex was now the leader of the anti-Spanish, pro-war party at court. He had cultivated the Portuguese pretender, Don Antonio, then living in England, with a view to using him in intrigues against Spain. Knowing that King Philip wanted Don Antonio assassinated, Essex assigned Anthony Bacon to protect him, and it was Bacon who discovered that one Esteban Ferreira, a disaffected Portuguese supporter who had lost all in Don Antonio's cause, was not only living in Dr Lopez's house in Holborn, but was secretly in the pay of the Spaniards and conspiring against the pretender.
Essex informed the Queen of this, and she ordered Ferreira's arrest. Dr Lopez pleaded for his release, saying that Don Antonio had treated the man badly and that Ferreira had in fact been working for peace between England and Spain, but the Queen showed her 'dislike and disallowance' of this suggestion, and terminated the interview.