Elizabeth, the Witch's Daughter

by Elizabeth, the Witch's Daughter (retail) (epub)

  As she watched the slight figure ride slowly down the avenue of trees she felt that a part of her life was over. She drew the furred cloak closer around her thin shoulders. She must not look to the past now, but to the future. She was second in the line of succession. Mary was old and Edward was not strong.

  “Some day,” she thought to herself. “Some day.”

  Turning she went indoors, leaving behind her childhood.

  Edward was residing in the Tower awaiting his Coronation when Elizabeth’s household was moved to Chelsea. She was to take up residence with Katherine Parr, now the Queen Dowager.

  The country manor of Chelsea was pleasant and Elizabeth was fond of Katherine and she settled easily into the peaceful life. She was however a little startled and amused when Kat informed her with an air of mystery that Thomas Seymour had had the audacity to ask for her hand in marriage. Although she knew full well that many a girl of her age was married, somehow she had never applied marriage to herself.

  She looked at Kat sideways and answered a trifle too demurely, “I have neither the years nor the inclination to think of marriage at present.”

  Kat looked at her intently, feeling not for the first time lately that Elizabeth was playing games with her.

  “Besides,” the girl continued, “without the consent of the Council I cannot marry, lest under the terms of my father’s will I forfeit my place in the succession and the £3,000 per year provided for me.” “And I am not such a fool,” she added to herself.

  Kat remained silent. What she did not tell Elizabeth was that Tom Seymour had also aspired to her sister’s hand and had been quite determinedly refused in that quarter too.

  Thomas Seymour was not a man to be easily put off. He had paid court to Katherine Parr in the days before her marriage to the King, but upon seeing the intentions of Henry he had quietly relinquished all claims to Katherine and had departed to France. But now Katherine was free again and if he could not have a Princess, “Why not a Queen Dowager?” he asked himself.

  He was a fine figure of a man. “Fierce in courage, courtly in fashion, in personage stately,” was how he had heard himself described.

  “’Tis a fair description,” he assured himself. Earlier in the year he had been created Baron Sudeley and given the post of Lord High Admiral. He had only received his just deserts, he thought, for after all his brother Ned had been created Duke of Somerset. He was becoming increasingly jealous of Ned who had manoeuvered himself into the position more or less of Protector to the young King and Tom Seymour foresaw a future fraught with political intrigue. There was truth indeed in the old saying, “Woe to the Kingdom whose King is a child!”

  He made far more progress with Katherine than he had done with either Mary or Elizabeth. Katherine seized upon what she believed to be her last chance of happiness. After all she was past thirty, although her Ladies assured her that she looked but a girl and she had loved Tom Seymour long before Henry Tudor’s lecherous little eyes had alighted upon her. Katherine felt she had waited long enough.

  As she was still in mourning for Henry, Tom’s visits must be kept secret. He came by night, stealthily lest anyone should see him. Unfortunately he was seen and heard and the servants began to whisper. The rumours were confided by Kat to her mistress who kept her opinions to herself. But this state of affairs could not go on and so in Spring—a bare three months after the death of Henry—Katherine Parr and Tom Seymour were secretly married.

  Their marriage put them in yet another awkward situation for Katherine had not received the consent of the Council. Obviously something had to be done and quickly. So the happy couple did the only thing possible. They wrote to Edward, confessing their fault and throwing themselves on his mercy and waited.

  Fate was kind. Edward forgave them for he had great affection for them both and the marriage was made public. It caused quite a storm for a man like Tom Seymour was not short of enemies. Elizabeth congratulated the couple, but prudently gave no sign that she knew of his aspirations to her hand.

  Life with Katherine and Tom was happy. Kate was a good mother to her; she was also her friend and companion. Her ‘Uncle Tom’ played the part of the jovial uncle to perfection, alternating between teasing her and discussing her studies with companionable ease. But Elizabeth was no longer a child. She became aware of an undercurrent in their relationship and for the first time realised that she had a power to attract men. This came as a bewildering but enjoyable revelation and she embarked upon her first flirtation with mingled feelings of pleasure and guilt.

  For some time past Tom had been in the habit of waking her in the morning, frequently pulling the bedclothes from her and tickling her bare feet and indulging in other seemingly harmless forms of horseplay, while she shrieked with laughter. These morning romps appealed to the child in her and though something told her that she was really too old for such goings-on they continued until one day the Admiral went too far.

  As usual she had been half asleep when he came in.

  “Good Morrow, Madam Lie-abed!” he laughed, as he quickly drew back the curtain from her bed.

  She just managed to keep up the pretence of being asleep when he whipped all the bedclothes off the bed. She grabbed at the sheet and managed to catch it before it, too, disappeared. A tug-of-war ensued. Still laughing she gave the sheet a hefty tug. The Admiral overbalanced and landed in a heap on the bed beside her. Her ladies were also laughing as they busied themselves about her chamber. Without any warning Tom suddenly leaned over and clasping his hands behind her head tried to kiss her full on the mouth.

  Startled and still laughing Elizabeth jerked her head away and caught sight of Kat’s scandalised face. The room had gone very quiet and everyone seemed to be looking at her. It was no longer funny.

  Kat approached the bed in anger. “For shame! she cried. “Go away for shame!”

  The Admiral, somewhat abashed, but still laughing, disentangled himself and rose. “Now Mistress Ashley, ’twas all in fun,” he soothed.

  But Kat was not to be pacified. She pushed him towards the door and he was still laughing as she shut it behind him.

  Shortly after this episode the household moved to Hanworth and Elizabeth, with Kat’s caustic comments on the behaviour of young ladies still fresh in her mind, was up and dressed and at her books when the Admiral came to bid her “Good Morrow”. She had taken Kat’s remarks on her behaviour very much to heart.

  “You are no longer a child, but a young woman who should behave as befits your high station in life,” Kat reminded her and so she assumed a grave dignity and aloofness in the presence of the Admiral. She also took to dressing very simply and on that particular day had chosen a black dress, rather too severe and sober for a girl of her years. A fact pointed out to her jokingly by the Admiral when she came upon him as he strolled through the garden with his wife. She tried to shrug his comments aside but he persisted and it was impossible to continue the conversation without laughing. The upshot of the matter was that both Tom and Kate chased her around the garden until they caught her and while Kate held her, the Admiral cut the offending dress to ribbons!

  Still laughing she ran indoors to change. Breathless and flushed she flung herself down on a stool. Kat was tidying her books and she gazed at her mistress in horror.

  Elizabeth looked up at her and laughed for Kat’s face was a picture as she took in the flushed face, the red curls damp and tangled and the dress cut to pieces.

  Kat was appalled! “What has happened to your dress?” she cried aghast.

  So between gasps of laughter Elizabeth proceeded to tell her the story but her laughter deserted her as the expression on Kat’s face grew graver and graver. When she had finished Kat remained silent, but taking the girl’s hands she raised her to her feet.

  “Consider, Bess,” she said gravely, “what your Royal Father would have said, a daughter of his to be so shamefully treated. Behaving as a common wench. For shame, Elizabeth!”

  Elizabeth sudden
ly felt like a naughty child. She hung her head for Kat had touched a sensitive spot. She was no ordinary girl. After helping her to change her dress and tidy her hair, Kat left. She was worried. Already there was gossip concerning the Lady Elizabeth and the Admiral and now this! Kat decided it was high time a stop was put to it and she went in search of the Admiral.

  She found him in the gallery and taking a deep breath told him, in no uncertain terms, that his conduct was being complained of and that Elizabeth was evilly spoken of.

  Tom Seymour was taken aback. “By God’s Precious Soul!” he swore. “I am being slandered. I will myself complain to the Lord Protector, I meant no evil.”

  Seeing she was achieving nothing, Kat took herself off to see Katherine and repeated her fears.

  Katherine laughed at her. “Mistress Ashley, ’twas nothing but childish fun and the Lord knows the Lady Elizabeth has had little of that in her life,” she said.

  Kat persisted. “Your Grace, it is not proper considering the position the Lady Elizabeth holds.”

  Katherine sighed. “Very well, in future I will accompany my husband, then there can be no scandal.”

  Kat curtsied and left feeling a little more relieved.

  Katherine was as good as her word and accompanied Tom but it was clear for all to see that Elizabeth had become self-conscious. She had taken Kat’s remarks very much to heart.

  A few weeks later Katherine sent for Kat. As soon as she entered the room she could see that Katherine was upset.

  “Mistress Ashley,” Katherine said, “I have to inform you that I have had the misfortune to hear that the Lady Elizabeth has been observed kissing a gentleman.”

  Kat was suitably shocked. “Your Grace,” she stammered, “the only man the Lady Elizabeth is ever alone with is her tutor, Mr Grindal and I hardly think that she would so far forget herself as to allow him to kiss her!” she said. “However,” she continued, “you can be assured that I will find out the truth,” and Kat hastily left to find her mistress.

  She finally found her sitting with a book in the garden. Kat sat down beside her.

  “What is this I hear of you now, Bess? The Queen has just informed me that you were seen kissing a gentleman.”

  Elizabeth stared at her. “She said what?”

  Kat repeated it.

  “Never, never!” the girl protested vehemently.

  “Come, Bess, the truth,” Kat continued.

  “No, no, Kat, I swear, ’twas not me!” Elizabeth cried and promptly burst into tears.

  Kat was disarmed, her anger faded. “Hush, hush, I believe you. Hush, Bess. I told Her Grace that I found it hard to believe that you would so far forget yourself. Hush now!” She fumbled in her pocket and produced a handkerchief which she handed to the still weeping girl. Elizabeth dried her eyes and with peace restored they both walked back to the house.

  Nothing more was said on the subject after Kat had dutifully reported Elizabeth’s denials to Katherine and shortly after Elizabeth was joined by a companion, Jane Grey. Jane was the granddaughter of Mary Tudor, Henry’s youngest sister and therefore was Elizabeth’s cousin. She had been placed in the Admiral’s household by her callous, scheming parents in the hope that Tom might help persuade his nephew Edward into a possible marriage contract with Jane.

  She was a quiet, studious girl who was glad to escape from the continual beatings and punishments inflicted upon her by her over-bearing, ambitious mother. Elizabeth was not particularly fond of Jane for she found her dull and rather sanctimonious and at times tactless, not to say downright rude, although Jane considered herself to be forthright.

  Meanwhile Edward was becoming rather tired of his uncles. He had begun to dislike Edward Seymour, the Lord Protector, who treated him not as a King, but as a small boy who should take no interest in the affairs of the country. The Admiral tried to ingratiate himself with his nephew with surreptitious gifts of pocket money, something of which Edward was kept very short.

  Trouble was also brewing between the Queen Dowager and the Duchess of Somerset—a termagant of a woman—who strongly objected to giving precedence to someone she thought of as plain Katherine Parr. It came to a head over the matter of Katherine’s jewels which, according to the terms of Henry’s Will, she was allowed to keep. Somerset, at his wife’s instigation, refused to release them, stating they were the property of the Crown. As Katherine’s wedding ring was amongst the said jewels, this was considered an inadequate excuse. But though the normally placid Katherine raged and Tom wrote interminable letters to his brother, she never received her jewels.

  Tom then tried to persuade Edward to sign a letter he had composed, to be presented to Parliament, requesting that favour be given to a suit he proposed to put before them—namely the dividing up of the Offices of Protector of the Realm and Governor of the King’s Person between himself and his brother. Edward, however, was his father’s son and asked the advice of his tutor, Sir John Cheke, who prudently advised the boy to refuse which Edward did, much to the Admiral’s chagrin.

  In December Elizabeth paid a visit to Court. As she knelt before her brother, after having bowed the required five times, her mind went back to the last time she had seen him. Then he had been a sad and uncertain little boy who looked to her for reassurance. The boy who now sat before her bore no resemblance to that child. He was self-assured (in fact rather pompous she thought) and he had assumed an air of dignity, but the eyes that smiled back at her were the same.

  “It is good to see you, sister,” he said.

  “I am pleased to see Your Majesty looking so well,” she answered, although she thought that he looked thinner and paler than when she had last seen him. Her eyes travelled to the grim figure of the Protector and she looked at him with mistrust from beneath her eyelashes.

  “Ned Seymour has grown too big for his boots of late,” she thought as she backed respectfully from Edward’s presence.

  She was asked to stay for Christmas and a few days later Mary arrived. Elizabeth thought how much older she looked as she greeted her sister with affection.

  “Why Bess, how you have grown!” Mary exclaimed, holding Elizabeth at arms length.

  Elizabeth smiled at her: “Mary, you have not changed at all,” she lied.

  Mary dropped her hands and sighed, “Ah! Bess, there are times when I feel so old, so useless.”

  “Oh! Mary, no,” Elizabeth exclaimed.

  “Yes, I feel as though life is passing me by,” Mary answered sadly. “But enough of this, how is our brother? You have seen him?” she continued brightly.

  Elizabeth took her hand and led her to the fire while she relayed to her sister the events that had taken place during their separation, although there was one event she took care not to mention, wondering whether her sister had heard the rumours concerning herself and the Admiral.

  When she returned to Hanworth in January it was to disquieting news. William Grindal was ill. The plague, Kat had told her in a hushed voice. Elizabeth prayed for him that night for he was a friend as well as her tutor.

  Next morning when she asked after him Kat shook her head.

  “Poor man, he did not see morning,” she replied.

  Dejectedly Elizabeth picked up her books, she felt a certain amount of sorrow at his passing and thought that his death boded ill for the start of a New Year. She chose Roger Ascham to take his place and he took up his post that spring. Ascham was a young Northerner and Elizabeth greatly admired his scholastic achievements and his native plain speaking.

  The Admiral still paid his early morning visits, although she was bored with the whole silly affair. Katherine did not come with him as often and the reason for this was soon made clear. She called Elizabeth to her one afternoon and with shining eyes told the girl that she was going to have a child. Laughingly she told Elizabeth that she was well aware of the dangers of a first pregnancy at her age, but she felt quite well and after years of having a ready made and usually grown up family, she was delighted to have a child of
her own at last. The Admiral too was delighted at the prospect of a son, she continued.

  Elizabeth congratulated her, anxiously telling her that she must take care of her health from now on, remembering how Jane Seymour had died over the birth of Edward. Elizabeth shuddered inwardly, hoping fervently that she would never be called upon to endure such suffering, although all the women she knew seemed to look forward to the event with joy and look back on it with very little recollection of the pain. “Those who survived,” she thought grimly. She left Katherine feeling disturbed, although why she felt so was a complete mystery to her.

  *

  A few weeks later came the event which was to change her life and cause her so much anxiety and fear in the future.

  It was a beautiful day, perfect May weather. The sky was a cloudless blue and the trees that marked the boundary of the garden were in full foliage, their leaves rustling gently in the warm breeze. The may blossoms and gillyflowers gave off their perfume into the sweet air. Elizabeth had removed her hood and her red-gold curls fell gently around her shoulders as she wandered idly along the paths between the beds of roses where the tiny new buds were just beginning to unfold.

  “She loved this month,” she thought. “In May she had seen her triumph, yet in May, too, she died.”

  She sat down on a bench in the shade of a huge horse-chestnut. Strangely she seemed to feel Anne close to her. The feeling disturbed her but she could not shake it off and despite the warmth of the day she shivered. She picked up her book but did not open it. A feeling of foreboding overwhelmed her.

  “Why do you come to me now?” she murmured.

  The air seemed to be so still; not a leaf rustled, no bird-song broke the eerie silence. The feeling became stronger.

  “Mother,” she whispered, half afraid.

  A twig snapped suddenly and she spun around nervously, fearing what she would see.

  “Tom!” she cried, relieved. “How you startled me.”

  Everything was as it had been, the leaves rustled gently, the birds sang and the bees droned lazily in the flowers.