by Tracy Borman
Elizabeth made no secret of her fascination with the opposite sex and was clearly a woman of passion. However, it is unlikely that she ever allowed her relationships with her courtiers to go beyond flirtation. Highly sexual though she seemed, she was nevertheless too much mistress of her emotions to give way to such dangerous temptations. Quite apart from the prospect of an unwanted pregnancy, it would have rendered her virtually worthless in the international marriage market if there was any proof that she was not chaste. Besides, as she was forever surrounded by her ladies, it would have been virtually impossible to conduct an affair in secret. She herself once pointed out: “I do not live in a corner. A thousand eyes see all I do.”40
Although the new queen loved to flirt with her courtiers, this did not make her any more likely to marry. Rather, she presented herself as the “bride” of England and the “mother” of all her people. From the beginning of the reign, her speeches are littered with references to this metaphorical state. In 1559 she replied to the House of Commons’ petition to marry by telling them to “reproach me so no more … that I have no children: for everyone of you, and as many as are English, are my children.” Another time she declared: “I assure yow all that though after my death you may have many stepdames, yet shall you never have any, a more naturall mother, than I meane to be vnto yow all.”41
Just as Elizabeth was “married” to her country, so she expected her ladies to be “married” to her service. Even though marriage did not preclude service in her household—indeed, most of those ladies who did take a husband with her permission resumed their duties shortly afterward—the Queen still viewed it as an irritating disruption to her established routine. She would regularly lecture the maids of honor and other unmarried ladies of her household on marriage, and would “much exhort all her women to remain in virgin state.” This was an unpalatable subject to the giddy young girls whose heads were full of flirtation and “enticinge love,” but their royal mistress persisted. “She did oft aske the ladies around her chamber, If they lovede to thinke of marriage? And the wise ones did conceal well their liking thereto; as knowing the Queene’s judgment in this matter,” observed her godson, Sir John Harrington.42
One poor girl who gave a different answer forfeited her happiness for good. A daughter of Sir Robert Arundell, she had only recently arrived at court when her sovereign mistress repeated the oft-asked question to her and the other assembled ladies. Before anyone could warn her, the girl piped up that “she had thought muche about marriage, if her father did consent to the man she lovede.” Breaking the shocked silence that followed, Elizabeth smilingly assured her: “You seeme honeste, i’faithe … I will sue for you to your father.” The delighted girl waited excitedly for news, and it seemed that she would soon have her wish, for the Queen honored her promise and spoke to Sir Robert about the matter. He expressed surprise at the news, claiming that he had not known that his daughter “had liking to any man,” but gladly gave “free consente to what was moste pleasinge to hir Highnesse.” “Then I will do the reste,” Elizabeth assured him. Soon afterward, she summoned the girl to her and told her that her father had given his written consent to her marriage. Ecstatic at this news, the girl exclaimed: “I shall be happie and please your Grace.” “So thou shalte,” replied the Queen, “but not to be a foole and marrye. I have his consente given to me, and I vow thou shalte never get it into thy possession: so, go to thy busynesse. I see thou art a bolde one, to owne thy foolishnesse so readilye.”43
This episode reveals a rather vindictive side to Elizabeth’s nature, and it would come to the fore time and again in her reaction to her ladies’ love affairs. The fact that she was known to so fiercely disapprove of their marrying created a vicious circle in which her ladies were often too afraid to seek her permission and therefore married in secret, which in turn provoked even greater wrath when their actions were discovered. It was without doubt the surest way to lose the Queen’s favor. But in expecting her ladies to conform, Elizabeth often gravely overestimated the strength of their commitment to her, as well as their self-discipline, which was rarely as great as her own.
Queen Mary had apologized on her deathbed for delaying the marriage of Jane Dormer, one of her favorite ladies, to the Count de Feria because she had not been able to bear parting with her. Her successor showed no such sentiment. Even if she knew that one of her ladies was genuinely in love, as had been the case with Mistress Dormer, this did little to alter her implacable opposition to their courtships. Driven by desperation, some of these ladies fell prey to temptation before the marriage had been sealed. Although Elizabeth was anxious to establish a strict moral standard at her court, the fact that so many young men and women were crowded together created an atmosphere charged with sexual tension. Moreover, the need for secrecy added a certain frisson to their courtships, as they snatched furtive encounters with their lovers in the many private alcoves and chambers of the royal palaces.
In a court filled with rumor and gossip, and in which privacy was a rare commodity, it was inevitable that these secret marriages and pregnancies would be discovered. As one court official noted during Henry VIII’s reign, “There is nothing done or spoken but it is with speed known in the court.”44 Once their secret was out, the Queen’s wrath was invariably formidable. In her fury, she would lash out against her ladies for defying her orders and would inflict severe punishments upon them. Some were thrown into the Tower or Fleet Prison (a notorious London prison built in 1197), while others were stripped of their titles and banished from court. Only very occasionally did Elizabeth forgive their transgression and allow them to continue in service.
The severity of the Queen’s reaction was at least partly justified. She was in loco parentis to the young maids of honor, and as such had a responsibility to insure that they either married well or remained chaste. Taking an unsuitable husband or, worse, falling pregnant out of wedlock could spell financial disaster for the girl’s family, whose reputation and estates often depended upon their offspring making profitable alliances. Moreover, any scandals involving the ladies in her household would reflect badly upon her and cause her suitors to doubt whether the moral standards at her court were really so unimpeachable. Her mother had been no less strict in controlling the activities of her ladies in order to safeguard her own reputation. It was said that Anne “wolde many tymes move them [her ladies] to modestye and chastertie, but in especiall to the maydons of honour, whom she wolde call before her in the prevy chamber, and before the mother of the maydes wold geove them a long charge of their behaviours.”
Elizabeth also wished to keep politics out of her privy chamber, and was aware that if her ladies married influential men at court, they would inevitably be drawn into supporting their husbands’ causes. When Mary Tudor was still on the throne, Lady Elizabeth Fiennes de Clinton had lobbied Elizabeth to restore her husband to a position of power when she became queen. She received many more such requests after her accession by ladies within her household and was loath to grant any of them. Neither did she wish the words she had uttered to her ladies in private to leave the confines of her privy chamber. But if one of those ladies was married to a courtier, this was almost bound to happen. The fact that they had such unparalleled access to the queen was what made her ladies so attractive to the men at court.
Although she may have had good reason to punish her ladies for marrying, it is difficult to absolve Elizabeth completely of the charge of being “angry with any love,” as one of her courtiers put it.45 When Mary Shelton’s secret marriage to an unnamed gentleman at court was discovered, the Queen was “liberall both with bloes and yevell words,” and the beleaguered girl ended up with a broken finger. As one onlooker observed: “never woman bought hir husband more deare than she hath done.”46 Furthermore, Elizabeth sometimes refused permission for marriages that were, on paper at least, entirely suitable. For example, when in 1563 her cousin Katherine Carey was betrothed to the son of Lord Howard of Effingham—an extremely advant
ageous match for her—Elizabeth was so enraged that she immediately dismissed the couple from court. Later in the reign, she gave her consent for Elizabeth Russell to marry Lord Herbert but then deliberately created difficulties in order to delay the nuptials.
Little wonder that the ladies at court continued to follow the hazardous course of marrying in secret. But as two members of her household discovered, if those ladies were of royal blood, the cost of doing so could be much greater than simply the loss of their position.
CHAPTER 9
Cousins
From the moment she took the crown, Elizabeth had been faced with the threat of rival claimants. Given her mother’s history and the subsequent confirmations of her own illegitimacy, this was inevitable. Her religion provided a further excuse for the Catholic powers both within England and across Europe to try to supplant this heretical queen with a candidate of their own. Ironically, given the prejudices against female rule that had been demonstrated during Mary’s reign, all the leading contenders for the English throne were women. Descended from Henry VIII’s sisters, they were also cousins of the new queen. Principal among them was Mary Stuart, daughter of Mary of Guise and James V of Scotland, who was the son of Henry VIII’s elder sister, Margaret Tudor. James’s sister, Lady Margaret Douglas, was another potential claimant. But Henry had excluded this branch of his family from inheriting the throne, so it was the descendants of his younger sister, Mary, who at first seemed to pose more of a threat. Elizabeth had already witnessed an attempt to place a member of this latter branch upon the throne and thus usurp the rightful order of succession. That member had been Lady Jane Grey, the “Nine Days Queen.” Her surviving sisters were Katherine and Mary.
The Grey sisters were the daughters of Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk, but their royal blood came from their mother, Frances Brandon, who was the eldest daughter of Henry VIII’s sister, Mary Tudor. Born around 1540, Katherine was eighteen years old when Elizabeth became queen. Her sister Mary was five years younger. Katherine and Mary’s childhood had not been a happy one. Raised at Bradgate Hall in Leicestershire, they had been bullied and beaten by their ambitious parents, who saw them as little more than a commodity in their political schemes. Unlike their elder sister, Jane, neither Katherine nor Mary had sought solace in learning, and they had failed to impress Roger Ascham during his visit to Bradgate in 1550. But Katherine at least had beauty to recommend her, and was described by one historian as a “pretty featherbrain.”1
Katherine’s good looks and royal blood made her a desirable bride from a young age. As part of his plans to seize power after Edward VI’s death, the Duke of Northumberland arranged her marriage to Henry Herbert, the eldest son of his ally, William Herbert, first Earl of Pembroke.2 Meanwhile, the eight-year-old Mary was betrothed to her cousin Arthur, Lord Grey of Wilton, whose father was also a member of the Duke of Northumberland’s faction at court.
On May 21, 1553, at the age of just thirteen, Katherine was married to Henry Herbert on the same day that her sister Jane married Guilford Dudley. The ceremony took place at the Duke of Northumberland’s house and was “celebrated with great magnificence and feasting.”3 Katherine’s marriage was not consummated4—a convenient fact that enabled Pembroke to have it dissolved when Northumberland’s plot failed and Mary Tudor ascended the throne. Her future now looked bleak, as did that of her younger sister. Mary’s betrothal had also been swiftly broken off in the aftermath of Lady Jane Grey’s arrest and execution. Their father had escaped punishment for his part in the attempted coup but was subsequently executed for supporting the rebel Thomas Wyatt. The Grey family name was now so sullied that it seemed unlikely that any man would wish to ally himself with either of the two girls.
Perhaps judging that the family had been punished enough for their part in Northumberland’s attempted coup, Queen Mary showed Katherine and Mary considerable favor. Not only did she invite them to court, but she gave their mother, Frances, precedence with Lady Margaret Douglas at state occasions, ahead of Elizabeth, who, as heir to the throne, should have enjoyed this privilege. She seemed to have a soft spot for Katherine, who was given an esteemed position at her coronation in October 1553, along with a sumptuous new red velvet gown to wear. Katherine also attended Mary’s marriage to Philip II the following year.
Throughout Mary’s reign, Katherine and her sister were treated as princesses of the blood, and contemporary accounts record that “their trains were upheld by a gentlewoman” at all important court gatherings, a privilege accorded only to members of the royal family.5 Their standing was further enhanced when Queen Mary appointed them ladies of the bedchamber, the most sought-after post in her household. By then, Katherine was so high in favor that it was even rumored that Mary intended to name her as her successor, although there is little evidence to substantiate this.
In 1554 Frances Grey married Adrian Stokes, a man half her age, and largely retired from court circles. Katherine was placed in the care of Anne, Duchess of Somerset, widow of the former Lord Protector, although she continued to reside at court. Among her companions in the Queen’s bedchamber were the duchess’s daughters, Margaret and Jane. It was with the latter that Katherine formed a particularly close attachment. Both girls lacked prudence and were more preoccupied with potential suitors than with their duties at court. Jane was delighted when her brother, Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford, caught Katherine’s eye.
Katherine and Seymour had first met at Hampton Court early in Mary’s reign, and their friendship had developed during a visit to Hanworth in 1555. Lying some fifteen miles west of London, Hanworth was the home of Edward and Jane’s mother—and Katherine’s patroness—the Duchess of Somerset. In August of that year, Jane, whose health had always been delicate, fell ill and was excused from her duties at court in order to make a recuperative visit to her mother’s estate, accompanied by her friend Katherine. They arrived to find Edward Seymour, who was also paying a visit to his mother at Hanworth. Katherine was evidently delighted at the chance to renew their acquaintance, and it was noted that they spent a great deal of time together. By the end of the visit, Katherine had fallen deeply in love with the earl, and her feelings seemed to be reciprocated.
Edward Seymour was one of the most handsome men at court. Although not very tall, he had a slender frame and dark coloring, with an aquiline profile and large, deep-set eyes. He was only about a year older than Katherine and when they had first met, they had both been in their midteens. Although several of his contemporaries criticized him for being spoilt and conceited, Katherine was blind to his faults. She called him “my good Ned” and “my sweet Lord,” and was utterly compliant to his will. Her judgment of men, as of many other things, would prove fatally flawed. For his part, although Seymour was undoubtedly attracted by Katherine’s physical beauty, he was perhaps drawn more to her royal blood. Ambition ran in his family, and it is possible that in Katherine he saw a path to the throne.
Their courtship continued after Katherine and Jane had returned to their duties, and Edward became a regular visitor to court. But any plans the couple may have had to marry were abruptly cut short in November 1558 when Queen Mary died. While she had always shown kindness and favor toward Katherine and might well have assented to the match, her half sister, Elizabeth, was of an altogether different mind.
From the very beginning of her reign, Elizabeth made it clear that she disliked the Grey sisters—Katherine in particular. The Spanish ambassador noted that “the Queen could not abide the sight of her” and that she bore her “no goodwill.”6 Highly sensitive to questions about her own legitimacy, Elizabeth also naturally distrusted any other persons of royal blood, particularly those whose place in the succession had been confirmed by act of parliament. However justified her feelings toward the Greys, her judgment of the elder sister, Katherine, was clouded by the additional factor of jealousy. At eighteen, Katherine was seven years younger than the new queen. She had inherited the characteristic red hair and long nose of her Tudor relative
s but also shared a good deal of her maternal grandmother’s famous beauty. With her rosebud lips and delicate features, she was both a younger and a prettier version of Elizabeth, and the latter bitterly resented it.
Elizabeth immediately made it clear that she had no intention of upholding the favor that had been shown to Katherine and Mary Grey by her late sister. Although she could hardly banish them from court without drawing more attention to them than she wished, she could offer them less prestigious posts than they had enjoyed during Mary’s reign. She therefore demoted them from ladies of the bedchamber to maids of honor, whose service was largely confined to the presence chamber. She also made it clear that she “does not wish her [Katherine] to succeed, in case of her death without heirs.”7 This infuriated Katherine, who had inherited a streak of the Tudor arrogance. The Count de Feria observed that she was “dissatisfied and offended” by the new queen and made no secret of the fact. “She has spoken very arrogant and unseemly words in the hearing of the Queen and others standing by,” observed another courtier. Before long, it was widely reported abroad that the Spanish “take her [Katherine] to be of a discontented mind, as not regarded or esteemed by the Queen.”8
Her rift with Elizabeth made Katherine Grey a natural ally of the Spanish, who were already conspiring against this heretical new queen. Although nominally a Protestant, Katherine’s religious sympathies were flexible enough to convert to Catholicism if that would best serve her interests. From very early on in the reign, she therefore became the focus of Spanish plots to remove Elizabeth from the throne. Feria, with whom she had established a close friendship, groomed her for the task. “I try to keep lady Catherine very friendly,” he reported to his master, “and she has promised me not to change her religion, nor to marry without my consent.”9 When Feria was recalled, Katherine made a point of becoming acquainted with the new Spanish ambassador, Bishop de Quadra. Before long, he was as fervent an advocate of her claim as his predecessor. In November 1559, he told Philip II of “the ruin which, as I think daily threatens the Queen. She would be succeeded by Lady Catherine, who would be very much more desirable than this one.”10