“A person for whom I have very little regard,” she sniffed. The Duchess had had the audacity to soundly rate her for having allowed Elizabeth to indulge in unseemly behaviour. After sarcastically pointing out her deficiencies the Duchess had finished by informing her that she was not fit to have the governance of a King’s daughter and had threatened that another should have her place.
By the time she had finished relating all this to Elizabeth Kat was quivering with indignation and Elizabeth was afraid.
“Just how much has Anne Seymour heard?” she wondered to herself.
Feeling certain that her mistress wished to marry the Admiral Kat ventured to warn her not to set her heart upon marriage as she may have to wait until Edward came of age.
To her amazement Elizabeth burst into laughter.
“Oh! Kat, Kat, what a fool you are!” she laughed as she sat down, wiping her eyes.
As Kat could see nothing that was even remotely funny she left with outraged dignity. But Kat Ashley was worried. She took to heart the Duchess’s warning. Perhaps she had been too lax with Elizabeth. Perhaps she had been a fool to aid the Admiral, she should have heeded her husband but she had been quite carried away with the idea of Elizabeth becoming a bride and now it appeared that the girl had no intention of marrying the Admiral at all.
“God knows where it will all end!” she thought fearfully to herself. But Kat’s careless tongue was to involve her in more trouble.
Christmas was spent at court with all the usual feasting and Kat found herself in the company of Thomas Parry one evening after she had enjoyed rather too many glasses of mulled wine. They chatted amiably about things in general until the subject of the Lady Elizabeth and the Lord Admiral came up.
Before she quite realised what she was saying, Kat had related to Parry all the events leading up to Elizabeth’s departure from Chelsea. With horror she realised too late what she had done and begged Parry never, never to reveal this conversation otherwise Elizabeth would be dishonoured forever. He faithfully promised that he would not even though he might be pulled apart by wild horses, after which Kat felt slightly relieved.
For Thomas Seymour, the Lord High Admiral, the shadow of the axe drew nearer. The news of his proposed visit to Elizabeth leaked out and his brother threatened to clap him into the Tower if he went anywhere near the girl.
Tom was undaunted. Then the news of his involvement with one Richard Sharington and their malpractices in “clipping” coins was brought to light. The Protector summoned him to give an account of himself but the Admiral foolishly refused. This left his brother no alternative but to put the whole matter before the Council. The Admiral was arrested and sent to the Tower along with Sharington, John Harington and John Fowler—two of the Admiral’s servants—were also arrested and investigations were undertaken.
Elizabeth heard this news with a deepening fear. Sir Anthony Denny, Sir Robert Tyrwhit and Lord St John arrived at Hatfield to escort Thomas Parry and Kat Ashley to London for interrogation.
Elizabeth’s fears became panic and it was a very frightened girl that Sir Robert Tyrwhit informed of the removal of her servants.
She tried desperately to hide her fear but she did not succeed. She had had no chance to speak with either Kat or Parry before they had been taken away and she feared for their safety.
“Dear God, they will but have to show Kat the inside of the Tower and she will tell them anything!” she thought.
Sir Robert gave her time to regain control of herself. Finally she stopped crying and asked,
“Have Mistress Ashley and Thomas Parry confessed to anything?” Realising that she was condemning herself out of her own mouth she plunged on, “I requested a favour for my chaplain from the Admiral and I wrote to him asking him to consult my cofferer on this matter. I also asked him to enlist the aid of the Admiral in having Durham House restored to me.”
She felt a little calmer now and more in control of the situation.
“Oh, yes,” she continued, “Mistress Ashley wished to write to the Admiral requesting him not to visit me for fear of suspicion. At her remarks I was greatly offended and ordered her not to do so because I would not have her take upon her the knowledge of any such thing.”
She stood studying the effect of her words on the man before her. He was obviously disappointed and a little irritated.
She felt her spirits rise. “I may look nothing more than a weak and frightened girl,” she thought, “but beware, Sir Robert; I am my father’s daughter.”
He stared at her in silence, struck by the resemblance to “old Hal”. The same proud set of the fiery head and the lips set in a tight, stubborn line.
“I require you to consider, Madam,” he replied coldly, “your honour and the peril which may ensue for you are but a subject!” Turning on his heel he left abruptly.
As soon as the door closed behind him she sank down on a stool, her courage had gone. She shook with fright for she had a very good idea of what she was facing in the weeks ahead.
“I am but fifteen years old,” she thought. Covering her face with her hands she cried, “Dear God, help me!”
Chapter Six
Sir Robert wrote to the Protector and a copy of his letter was shown to Elizabeth.
With shaking hands she read:
“I further declared what a woman Mrs Ashley was… saying that if she would open all things herself, all the evil and shame should be ascribed to them and her youth considered both with the King’s Majesty, your Grace and the whole Council. But in no way she will not confess any practice by Mistress Ashley or the cofferer concerning my Lord Admiral; and yet I do see it in her face that she is guilty and do perceive as yet she will abide more storms ere she accuse Mistress Ashley.”
Well, in the last respect he was right, she thought. She would never betray Kat. Kat had been her comfort and her mainstay since babyhood. To Kat she had confided her hopes and fears and they asked her to abandon Kat, to blame her. Never!
Sir Robert left.
Elizabeth was desperately afraid for she had heard how Parry had rushed to his chamber declaring that he wished he had never been born for he was undone. He had thrown away his chain of office and had torn the rings from his fingers.
“What is happening to them both, what are they telling their tormentors?” she wondered frantically.
Sir Robert returned and she could see that he was determined to wring some form of confession from her. This time he tried a different approach—persuasion. She vehemently denied any knowledge of the Admiral’s involvement with Sharington and repeated the conversation she had had with Parry on his return from London concerning the loan of Seymour Place.
Sir Robert smiled inwardly. “Well, ’tis a start,” he thought. With a great show of reluctance he proceeded to show her a letter he had received from the Lord Protector regarding his instructions towards her.
Elizabeth was not taken in. She thanked him kindly but refused to comment further. He then left her alone to contemplate her position.
Each day for a week the interrogation continued and Elizabeth held out, repeating only what she had already told him and denying all knowledge of Sharington. By the end of the week Sir Robert was infuriated for she had told him nothing. Elizabeth was grimly fighting with all her strength. She was afraid and constantly spied upon but with the spirit of her mother she fought on for she knew that perhaps her life depended upon it.
Early the next week she received a letter from the Lord Protector himself.
“At last, they have given me the very chance I need,” she thought, “the chance to speak for myself.” She sat down at her desk and thoughtfully composed her defence.
There had been no secret understanding between herself and Mrs Ashley, she wrote. She related the Admiral’s offer of the loan of Seymour Place and her conversations with Thomas Parry and Kat Ashley concerning the Admiral’s advances towards herself. If she could remember anything further she would write and inform him of the same.
She sat back and re-read the letter. “Just let me show myself and I will quickly put a stop to these evil, lying tales,” she thought.
But it was not to be. Permission was refused.
Sadly she realised that the Council would not let her near her brother lest she succeed in making him realise what lies they had used to poison his mind against her.
“God knows what they have told him,” she thought desperately, “surely, surely Edward would not believe them. Edward loves me,” but then she remembered that he was no longer the little boy who had turned to her for comfort. The worst was yet to come!
The next morning Sir Robert burst in upon her waving a letter. Satisfaction was written all over his face and her heart missed a beat.
“My God, what now?” she thought. She faced him calmly. “To what do I owe this intrusion upon my privacy?” she demanded.
“Mistress Ashley and Thomas Parry have confessed!” he told her bluntly.
She sat down suddenly. The strain of the last weeks had taken its toll and she fought down the hysteria that threatened to overcome her.
“No, no!” she cried, “let me see the signatures.” Her hands shook as she took the parchment from him, indeed they shook so badly that she was unable to read what was written but she saw clearly the two signatures that she knew so well.
“So they have failed me!” she thought.
Sir Robert removed the letters from her hands. Parry had broken first, he informed her. Mrs Ashley would say nothing until confronted with him and then she had lost control and had shouted that he was a false wretch for he had promised never to confess it to death.
Elizabeth raised a tear-stained face. “Then it was a great matter for him to promise such a promise and to break it,” she said quietly.
Seeing that he had at last triumphed Tyrwhit left, leaving the confessions that she might read them later.
Elizabeth moved numbly to the fire and stood staring into the bright flames for a long time.
Poor Kat, she had tried, she thought.
Was this the end? So short a time ago it seemed since she had vowed that she would fight to the end and now was this the end? With the warmth of the fire, a warmth crept through her numb body.
“No,” she vowed. “I will never give up!” She picked up the letters and began to read them through carefully. It was all there for everyone to read. The silly romps at Chelsea and Hanworth and she blushed as she realised that now she would be considered little better than a serving wench.
Anger burned in her. “You fool! You fool!” she told herself. But at least there was nothing treasonable in her conduct. Time and time again she had stated that she would never marry without the consent of the Council.
“A fine mess you have made of things, Tom Seymour,” she cried aloud with venom. “You can rot in the Tower but I shall never expose myself again,” she vowed. Always there was a man involved in the downfall of a woman, she thought.
“Women are used by greedy, selfish men for their own ends.” She thought of Katherine Parr and of poor Queen Catherine, of her own mother and Katherine Howard and quiet Jane Seymour. All of them sacrificed to a man’s greed and lust.
“Never!” she vowed. “No man will be my master. No man will ever own me!”
Next morning Sir Robert entered her chamber cheerfully. Today he was sure to have the confession that he had laboured all these weeks to obtain.
He was in for a shock. He found not the docile, frightened girl he had expected but a very determined young woman. Elizabeth flatly refused to say any more than she had already told him and it was a thoroughly exasperated man that left her that morning.
A week later he reported to her that the Council had seen fit to appoint a new Governess for her as Mrs Ashley was obviously not fit for the post. He introduced in her place his wife, Lady Elizabeth Tyrwhit and relayed the Council’s wish that Elizabeth accept her service willingly.
Elizabeth rounded on him in fury! “Mrs Ashley is my mistress,” she stormed, “I have not so demeaned myself that the Council should now need to put anyone else in her place.”
Lady Tyrwhit confronted the furious girl calmly and remarked sarcastically, “Seeing you did allow Mrs Ashley to be your mistress you need not be ashamed to have any other honest woman to be in the place.”
Elizabeth shook with temper. How dare she, this sanctimonious, sour-faced woman, speak to her like that. “Oh! I remember you well, Elizabeth Tyrwhit,” she thought. “It was to you that Katherine Parr confided her deathbed grievances.”
Aloud she said coldly, “You may leave us, Madam.”
With an impudent look Lady Tyrwhit swept from the room.
All the next day Elizabeth fumed and Sir Robert informed her that in his opinion she needed not one Governess, but two!
“When I need your opinion, Sir, I shall ask for it!” she replied crossly.
She was depressed for the hated Lady Tyrwhit watched and reported her every word and action. She longed for Kat’s company. She had heard that the Admiral’s household had been disbanded and wondered feverishly and for the hundredth time what would happen to her. There had been a long silence from the Protector since Kat and Parry had confessed. At last she decided to write to him.
She heard that he had received her last letter but that he had not been pleased with it, she wrote. She was sorry but he had asked her to speak plainly and she had told the truth. She was sad to see that he made no mention of the rumours concerning her but suggested that he send forth a Proclamation declaring them to be lies, so that the people would see that the Council and the Protector himself were concerned about such rumours being spread of the King’s sister.
“I am ashamed to ask any more because I see you are not so well minded thereunto,” she finished.
She wearily laid down her quill and shook fresh sand over the signature. At last she felt herself to be out of danger for they had no proof against her, only gossip. She felt far older than her fifteen years and knew herself to be very much wiser for the experience she had come through.
*
The Council met on the 22nd February, and declared that the Lord High Admiral was “sore charged with divers and sundry Articles of High Treason”. Thirty-three charges, in fact. He demanded a public trial and this being refused, he stubbornly refused to issue a statement.
Eventually his brother gave the necessary permission and on the 20th March, Tom Seymour was led out to the scaffold on Tower Hill. He met his end resignedly for he had gambled everything and had lost.
It was the hated Lady Tyrwhit who brought the news to Elizabeth. She watched the girl intently for any sign of grief which could be passed on to the Council. The experiences of the past two months had prepared Elizabeth and she gazed back steadily at Lady Tyrwhit and answered in a voice totally lacking in emotion,
“This day died a man with much wit and very little judgement.”
She had the pleasure of seeing the expectant expression wiped from Elizabeth Tyrwhit’s face but after she had gone Elizabeth felt sorrow sweep over her. She had concealed her feelings well but now that he was dead she admitted to herself that she had loved him a little. She also admitted that had the roles been reversed, he would have left her to her fate. She would do everything in her power from now on to live down the association with him for there would be many who would be watching her and who would not hesitate to remark “like mother, like daughter!” and the fact that both had been slandered would count for little.
She was out of danger, though Lady Tyrwhit sta
yed on. Soon she began to write to the Protector requesting the release of Kat and Parry. This was at first refused but she continued her petitioning and at length they both returned to Hatfield.
Kat fell sobbing to her knees and was so completely overcome with remorse that Elizabeth could only catch disjointed phrases.
Raising her gently Elizabeth led her to a chair.
“Kat, dearest Kat,” she soothed, “I do not blame you. ’Tis all past now, we must forget.”
Kat hiccuped. “The Admiral,” she moaned.
“We must forget him too,” Elizabeth said firmly. “Come, let me help you. You must rest.” With her arms around Kat she led her to her apartments.
“To those she loves she is a true friend,” Kat thought. “God Bless you, Bess,” she sobbed.
Elizabeth continued to live quietly at Hatfield, returning to her neglected studies. Her manner of dress was stark and severe with no ornamentation. She wore no jewellery save the rings which never left her fingers. Her red curls she repressed beneath her hood and she gave the appearance of maidenly modesty. With the visual proof that she carried no illicit child and with her quiet, studious manner the rumours gradually died.
In the autumn of 1550 she learnt with satisfaction that the Protector’s power was waning. The rising power was the Earl of Warwick, John Dudley. Thinking back on what she knew of him Elizabeth was not sure that the change was for the better.
Upon his accession to the throne her father had made the popular decision to execute Dudley’s father along with Empson; these being the two most hated men of Henry VII’s reign. But Dudley’s son John had inched his way back to power over the years. He was a silent man who cared little for the opinions of others. He had waited patiently for his chance and now it had come.
A man to be wary of, she thought. He had a large family and Elizabeth remembered well his son Robert as they shared the same birthday. Robert Dudley was a handsome, merry lad who was just as ambitious as his father.
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