Each lady was given room and board—not to mention access to the royals and invitations to the many feasts and official events being held at the palace throughout the year, and the generous Christmas gifts bestowed by their majesties. The ladies also received gifts of favor from noble families hoping to use the ladies’ access to the King and Queen to influence them. Some of the ladies formed lasting relationships, had illicit affairs, and either married or birthed bastards (or both!) using these connections.
Frances served with women from the best houses in the realm. Elizabeth Blount, also the King’s former mistress, Anne Basset, Lady Jane Denny, Jane Rochford the Queen’s sister-in-law, and Margaret Taylebois were among the ladies in the Queen’s household. She also struck up a great friendship with Lady Norris, one of the Queen’s existing ladies-in-waiting. Norris provided Frances with an opportunity to hear gossip about the royal couple’s affairs, much like a verbal version of the tabloid papers of a future century. Ladies were removed chiefly for demonstrating “unseemly” behavior, such as being indiscrete about scandals, pregnancy or if the Queen felt they were becoming a threat to her. A position as lady-in-waiting did not exactly offer permanent security, but it did have its advantages, which allowed the aristocracy to replenish the blood of the royal court from time to time.
Serving her majesty had its advantages, but it also had more negative consequences. The wardrobes each family was expected to provide these ladies were outrageously expensive, and with this Queen’s constant changes in fashion, some found the cost too high to bear. Some families even spent time in prison for the debts they accumulated in attempting to acquire these robes. It was a fact of the time that the more money one had, the more one spent to keep up appearances and show one’s status. At court, one’s clothes said as much about a person’s position and rank in the feudal system as any chain of office.
When those of lower rank sought to wear such beautiful fabrics (when they could afford them from the same merchants and tailors who catered to the nobility), the aristocracy considered it a direct threat to their entire establishment. As a result, the King passed the Sumptuary Laws, or “the Statues of Apparel,” actually describing the ranks of each social class and the types of fabrics they were allowed to wear, based on that rank. Only those with titles were able to wear finer fabrics such as damask, velvet, and taffeta. While appearing frivolous, even arbitrary, such laws came about to protect the social order during a time of a rising class of merchants who could afford to dress as nobility, but might thereby confuse the commons by appearing to be of a different social status, or might even deliberately seek to masquerade as nobles, claiming rights and privileges they were not privy too. Those found in violation of this law were subject to time in prison.
The influences around Frances made a lasting impression. Lady Norris outwardly was a staunch reformer, to keep up pretenses with the reigning power base, and as such no one suspected that privately, she was a very pious Catholic. Norris continued to secretly practice mass according to Roman rites and was cautious in exercising her true beliefs. Frances felt the tensions at court, even by those who were closest to the King. The efforts they undertook to hide potential controversies from their King’s attention were astounding.
As they began to become deeper friends, for hours, Frances would pester Norris to explain the reasons for the dissention that existed, and how these problems could be remedied. In her youth and inexperience with court politics, she simply could not understand how people—even these rich and powerful courtiers—could be made to completely suppress their own beliefs, just to align with those of an even more powerful person. For her, this alone was sin. She longed to make sense of a chaotic place like the court, which still poses complications to modern historians today, much less contemporaries of its own time. Despite this fact, Frances looked up to Norris in all matters and considered her not only her closest friend, but also a mentor in her new life.
As Frances was getting settled in to life at court, in autumn 1540 her mother was recalled back to the family estate to care for the rest of her children. Her only comfort now was her friendship with Norris, which continued to develop, even when Frances returned to the country with her mother to make further arrangements for the care of her siblings. Frances and Lady Norris exchanged weekly letters and came to enjoy sharing each others’ bits of news and thoughts a great deal. It was great comfort to Frances to finally have a friend and companion whom she could trust. Over time and because of this trust, Lady Norris shared with Frances her true faith, her private rituals, and her understanding of the inner workings of the Catholic faith.
In kind, Frances shared her own secret: before she had returned home with her mother, Frances had made a secret pre-contract engagement with the secretary to Ambassador Chapuys, Don (the equivalent of the English “Sir”) Miguel de Valez. The two had struck up a courtship after dancing together during the festivities to honor the Ottoman visitors. In a few months time they promised each other that they would seek to become betrothed to each other.
A young, vibrant man of twenty-three, Don Miguel had been dispatched to replace a previous secretary who was retiring from the Ambassador’s service. With Chapuys facing a recall and subsequent retirement, a flood of new clerks and diplomatic aides were heading to the English court to learn what secrets Chapuys had uncovered over his years of service.
Considered an up-and-coming star in foreign relations, Don Miguel was fluent in Italian, French, Latin, German and English, in addition to his native Spanish. He was also quite handsome, tall, athletic, and proud. As a child, his father had sent him to study under the great Italian artist Titian. Don Miguel showed remarkable promise in the arts as a child, which initially his father had embraced, but as he grew older, his father forced him to join the ranks of the diplomatic service to earn international prestige. His father, a cousin of Charles V, by marriage had arranged for his son’s placement at the age of twelve to court to learn under Chapuys’ own former mentor.
Henry liked to engage Don Miguel on matters of sport and often asked for his accompaniment during hunts, especially once Chapuys began to more frequently decline the invitations due to failing health. When the Queen attended these events as well, along with her ladies-in-waiting, it provided a perfect opportunity for Frances to publicly meet with Don Miguel. What had initially began as courtly pursuit was quickly turning into something far more serious.
In early November of 1540, soon after having returned to court from her time with her mother, Frances revealed to Don Miguel her recent interest in the Catholic faith, a factor perhaps more greatly endearing her to the dashing young Spaniard. In Catholicism she increasingly adopted from her friend and mentor Lady Norris, Frances had felt a sense of devotion, purpose, ancient ritual, and unexplained miracles that gave her a feeling of comfort that the constant politicking and luxury of the court failed to arouse. Although the intensity of the pious sometimes put Frances at a loss, it also provided an allure of stability not present in Protestantism. The more she came to understand the tenets of the papacy and the history of the church (and of her own King’s prior support to the church), the more she felt it truly was her calling to practice as a Catholic.
Further, the young girl also shared a strong desire to become closer to her lover by sharing his interests and it was well known at court that Don Miguel and most of the Spanish retinue were devout Catholics. He shared with her materials on the old faith that had been banned in England, and that he had smuggled in with textile shipments. The more she learned from both Norris and Don Miguel about the suppression of their faith, the more enraged she became.
By that time, the young Spaniard was not the only man at court to have noticed the comely young lady. The French Ambassador, Antone Jervais, wrote to his master of Frances as early as the preceding June. He slyly noted, of the skills her dancing hinted at (his King adored such gossip) and “that should a master seek her company, she w
ould make a most eager accomplice, by her movements.”
Plenty of men at court had lusted over this beauty; however, although she had been at court for most of the year, Henry rarely paid her any notice. The Queen had a way of monitoring her ladies’ conduct and she employed spies about the court to report back the most minor of infractions, any bad comportment would be considered a serious reflection on her ability to manage her servants.
The Conservative faction was becoming unhinged and was more anxious with each passing day that the King had not made his move on their bait. Every possible effort was made to promote Frances to his attention, to no avail. Meanwhile, although Henry paid the girl no attention, Anne certainly had. Anne was cautious of the girl and would converse with her late into the evening, to keep her within her sights (a tactic her predecessor Katherine had employed). Outwardly, Frances she seemed very fond of the Queen, and perhaps she truly was, even if conflicted because of her deepening Catholicism. The summer, fall, and winter had all passed without any requests for the girl, at least not from the intended party.
In late November of 1540, Don Miguel de Valez paid a formal visit to his love’s father, the Earl of Huntington, to seek permission to establish a formal pre-contract for marriage. The Earl was enraged. Realizing that this courtship had progressed to the point at which it threatened the plan to use Frances to entrap the King’s affections, Hastings railed against the Spaniard and ordered the romance ended immediately.
The Earl then notified his fellow conspirators, and sought about planning how possibly to turn this series of events to their advantage, perhaps by informing his Majesty that he had blocked an new attempt by the dishonorable Spanish to insinuate themselves at court; such a plan might serve to bring Frances to the King’s attention, and in a favorable light. They called an emergency strategy meeting, concealing their purpose as being a discussion of tax proposals. Bishop Gardiner was ready to pull Frances from her position and banish her from court. Unfortunately, any retaliatory efforts against the secretary would have proved futile and revealed their ultimate aspirations, landing them all in an unfavorable situation. The others were able to persuade Gardiner to let Frances remain at court a few weeks longer, to see how events progressed. Her father reassured the Bishop that he would see to it that his daughter succeeded in becoming the King’s mistress.
Frances’ father railed at her in private, telling her that her silly game was over and forbidding her from speaking with de Valez again. Frances was devastated and in one of her later letters vowed to run away to Spain when Don Miguel’s appointment was over so that she could be with him there if she could not do so in her own land. She became almost inconsolable and lapsed into a serious depression over the next few months, but remained at court, under the greatly increased supervision of her father.
With ironic timing, Henry finally began to notice Frances that very December, 1540. Most of the older ladies of the court began to take their families back to their estates to prepare for the Christmas festivities, leaving the young woman more obvious in the Queen’s shrunken retinue. He had long been aware of her beauty, but political affairs had kept at bay his lustful desires. In the meantime, the relationship between Frances and Don Miguel had continued, albeit more discretely, with passionate letters being exchanged frequently. Lady Norris Acted as their messenger, concealing the messages or pretending to be carrying correspondence from her own family. The faction finally achieved a long-sought victory when the King requested a private audience with Frances in his chambers. Fearful, she was anxious and fumbled her words when in his majesty’s presence. She was also unclear as to why the King had summoned her and, with her father away, she did not have the time to gain his counsel on how to attend to the King. They had intentionally kept the girl in the dark about using her as bait.
Sir Anthony Denny, a groom of the privy chamber and close friend of the King, witnessed the two supping together, Frances nervous and the King doing his best to impress the lady. It was clear to the servant that the King had been swayed once again to take a mistress. Chapuys would report that the lady’s intellect was suspect, but her motives pure. Nothing could have been further from the truth, as the attractive young courtier was fiercely bright, and secretly becoming ever more committed to causes that would count as sedition against the crown. Indeed, Frances’ silence stemmed not from her lack of wit, but because she was still devastated at her father’s decree banning her contact with the young Spanish diplomat. Nevertheless, however nervous she may have been, she apparently made an impression on the King. The following day, December 19th, 1540, the royal register shows expenses for a “Lady Hastings” for a bracelet of gold and sapphires, engraved with the King’s “Henrycus Rex” initials. This gift was a sure sign of favor.
The gifts Henry presented that Christmastide were among his most extravagant yet. It was now clear that Henry had his eye on Frances. For Anne he had a gold book casing made for her Bible, inscribed with their monogram. He also granted his Queen an income worth 2,000 pounds a year. Typically, such a large salary was due to a jointure but none was given; for the time being, Anne could be relieved. The King was careful in public to present Frances the same gift he had given each of his Queen’s ladies, but he had Lord Audley draw up her salary payments in private, and notified the Earl directly. Still, this charade did little to ease Anne’s conscience. In private, Frances was given a bracelet encrusted with rubies, with a note likening her to the jewels, and to the fire burning within him waiting for their next encounter.
Frances sought the advice of Lady Norris on how to proceed. Still ignorant as to her fathers’ plans, she had no intention of becoming Henry’s mistress; her lover’s was the only attention from a suitor that she wanted. Furthermore, she had set in her mind to remain a virgin until her marriage to Don Miguel. Norris was less confident about the discreet relationship and strongly urged her friend to distance herself at all costs from this affair and be cautious with the King.
Anne was a cruel mistress when she needed to be, and certainly, a threat from a young potential mistress was what it would take to set her on a path of war. The Queen already had doubts about her; when she received word of Henry’s interest, the girl could be in serious danger. When her father had returned he advised Frances to forget her lover once more and embrace the King as his replacement. Her father persuaded her that if she played her cards right she may very well be Queen one day. Frances wanted no part of it, but also knew of the fates of those who had come before and offended his majesty in any way. She made very clear that the very thought repulsed her. The Earl attempted to persuade her of the benefits of this potential romance, but to no avail. Instead, his scheming evoked the opposite reaction.
Frances was distraught. Several factors, including her secret relationship with Don Miguel, her growing Catholicism, and her now facing the prospect of becoming the sexual plaything of a King, all contributed to her downward spiral. When not attending the Queen she spent her days writing drafts of letters she was now fearful to send to Don Miguel, and countless hours crying. Lady Norris was her only source of release, and this friend encouraged her to maintain a level of outward enthusiasm for life at court, as if nothing had changed. Anne was incredibly perceptive and had her agents about the court keeping an eye on the King’s activities. The Queen already suspected Lady Frances as a potential mistress, so any noticeable mood change on her part could land her in the Queen’s sights.
8.2 Being Courted by a King
Henry was 50 when he started courting the young lady-in-waiting, and he was hardly the man he had been even a few years before. Henry still jousted and hunted, but he also had a staggering appetite, and the feasts prepared for his meals were enormous. His metabolism had slowed with age, something not well understood in his time, and his gluttonous feasting on heavy meats and sauces had started to add appreciably to his frame. He was obese at this time, but not morbidly so and was still able to function and get
around on his own; he just embodied a protruding gut that his tailors had to adjust his wardrobe. He had lost the handsome vigor of his youth, but he was still King of England and thus still quite a prospect for a potential mistress.
Frances had gone from being an obscure juvenile to captivating the attentions of the most powerful man in the realm. The only time that the two were able to spend together was in his private chambers when the Queen was out with her ladies or away tending to other affairs. This new part of her life had the potential to be the most exciting, and yet she wanted none of it. She longed for a life at court on the arm of her true lover. The next several weeks, from the festivities leading up to Christmas and extending beyond to the New Year, saw Frances showered with gifts and signs of affection. These obvious signs of favor also bore a significant downside.
The Queen, who quickly became well informed as to the affair, now daily abused Frances in any way she saw fit, exploiting every possible opportunity to humiliate and denigrate the young Frances. Now, it was Anne who was the aging Queen, and Frances reminded her of the actions she had herself undertaken a decade before to supplant her predecessor. Anne had secured the dynasty, to be sure, but although she had done her duty, the people never warmed to her; they never forgot their beloved Katherine and held Katherine’s dismissal and death against Anne for the whole of her life.
As the relationship with the King began to develop Frances found herself caught in a terrible position, she was the highlight of the social season’s gossip circles at the same time as she was secretly conflicted over her lover. Rioting had broken out in her home town of Leicestershire when a monk had refused to acknowledge Henry as head of the Church and prayed instead to the Pope. The monk’s name was Thomas Pete; he had led a life of poverty, and was considered no great political threat during the initial break from Rome, in fact, he had not even been asked to swear the oath as, at that time, he had not taken his vows. Once the matter of the public denial of the King’s supremacy was made plain to the city’s magistrate, Frances’ father was notified and brought the matter to the Privy Council.
Had the Queen Lived: Page 26