by Tracy Borman
Blanche had remained in good health for almost all of her eighty-two years, and it was only toward the end that she had been troubled by illness, receiving ever more frequent visits from the Queen’s apothecary. Even though her eyesight grew so poor that she was practically blind, she had remained in active service. Her death came as a shock to the Queen and the court as a whole. Tradition has it that Elizabeth was with Blanche in her final hours. Within days, news of her death had spread across the kingdom. On February 17, George Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, received a letter informing him: “On Thursdaye last Mrs Blanshe a Parrye departed; blynd she was here on earth, but I hope the joyes in heven she shall se.”8 Another letter of the time noted the “great sorrow” that was shown by the Queen and her ladies.
Elizabeth was determined to honor her late servant’s memory, and she ordered a funeral befitting a baroness. Blanche was interred in St. Margaret’s Chapel, Westminster. A marble effigy was later erected, on which an inscription recorded that she had been “Beneficial to her kinsfolke and countrymen.” A marble figure of Blanche formed part of this elaborate monument. It is the most detailed likeness of her that exists today. Her features are striking, with high cheekbones, a small, pursed mouth, and piercing, intelligent eyes. Her face is framed by neatly curled hair, which is kept in place by a French hood. She is dressed in the finest clothes of black satin, with a high ruff around her neck, and the Queen’s livery is prominently displayed on her dress. At her throat is a bejewelled necklace, which, along with the books she is holding, serves as a reminder of her former positions in the royal household.
Blanche’s will indicates that she was a wealthy woman by the time she died. She was able to make numerous bequests to friends and relatives, including jewels, money, and land amounting to several thousand pounds.9 She also left provision for a magnificent tomb to be erected at her home church of Bacton in Herefordshire. The epitaph attests to the personal sacrifice that her service to Elizabeth had entailed:
So that my tyme I thus dyd passe awaye
A maed in Courte and never no man’s wyffe
Sworne of the quene Ellsbeth’s bedd chamber allwaye
Wythe maeden quene a maede dyd ende my lyffe.
The tomb was also clearly intended as a final testament to her love for the Queen. It depicts Elizabeth, resplendent in an elaborate gown and jewels. Kneeling beside her is her old servant, Blanche. Her expression is one of adoration, as if worshipping the Virgin—only in this case, it is the Virgin Queen.10 The monument may be the earliest example of Elizabeth being represented as an icon. If so, it paved the way for hundreds of allegorical paintings and images and helped define Elizabeth as Gloriana, the unassailable, godlike queen whose name would reverberate down the centuries. In death, as in life, Blanche Parry had served her mistress well.
A year earlier, Elizabeth had lost another of her long-standing attendants. Like Blanche, Lady Fiennes de Clinton had been at the heart of court affairs for more than a half century. Although in theory her role was restricted to service in the privy chamber, in reality her influence spread a good deal further. The intrigue and backbiting of the Elizabethan court honed her political skills, and there are several references to her shrewdness in the “business matters” in which the Queen had forbidden her ladies to meddle.
A contemporary observed that the Queen confided in Lady Clinton because she was a lady “in whom she trusted more than all others.”11 The intimacy between the two women had strengthened as the reign progressed. The Queen seemed to take genuine pleasure in Lady Clinton’s company, and they shared both humor and intellect. As well as spending many hours with her in the privy chamber, the Queen would also attend private supper parties with her away from court. One of these, in May 1587, was hosted by Lady Clinton at her London residence. The Queen had decided on a whim that they should go there, so her friend was obliged to rustle up a suitably lavish supper at short notice.12
That Elizabeth should involve Lady Clinton in her most private affairs is a testament to the degree of trust that existed between them. The closeness of their relationship was remarked by many at court, and it gave Lady Clinton a great deal of influence. Before long, she was besieged by petitions from ambitious place-seekers or those who had fallen from the royal favor. There are various recorded instances of her furthering these requests with the Queen,13 but for the most part, she only did so when it suited her own interests or those of her family.
When Lady Clinton died in March 1589, her royal mistress was heartbroken. The “Fair Geraldine” had served her faithfully for more than thirty years and had been her childhood companion before that. Her intellect and shrewdness had won her the respect and admiration of the Queen, who missed her wise counsel and affection. Elizabeth ordered a magnificent funeral to be conducted at Windsor, where her cousin’s body was interred in the royal chapel, next to that of her second husband.
Other ladies were quick to step into the void created by the deaths of Lady Clinton and Blanche Parry. Principal among them was Anne Dudley, Countess of Warwick. Anne had been one of Elizabeth’s favorite maids of honor before her marriage to Robert Dudley’s brother, Ambrose, Earl of Warwick, in 1565. She had then been promoted to gentlewoman of the privy chamber. The Countess of Warwick proved extraordinarily diligent in her duties. Her husband once told Sir Francis Walsingham that she had “spentt the cheffe partt of her yeares both painfully, faythfully, and servycably, yea after soche sortt as without any dishonour to her maiestie any kinde off wage nor ytt any belmyshe to her powre sellff.”14 Elizabeth appreciated her efforts and found her service indispensable. She placed an ever-greater reliance upon Lady Anne’s steadfast loyalty and support, and as the years wore on, she treated her more as a friend and confidante than as a servant. The countess’s niece would later claim that her aunt was “more beloved and in greater favour with the Queen than any other woman in the kingdom, and no less in the whole Court and the Queen’s dominions, which she deserved. She was a great friend to virtue.”15
As a result of the high esteem in which she was held by Elizabeth and Leicester, the countess received more requests for favor than any other lady of the privy chamber. It was said that she was “a helper to many petitioners and others in distress,” and the records certainly bear this out.16 Lady Anne’s networks were extensive, both in England and abroad, and she made the most of the aristocratic connections her marriage gave her. She was kept abreast of international affairs through her contacts with English ambassadors and envoys. Lord Hunsdon, for example, sent her secret reports from Hesse, which was then a province of Prussia, after taking up the ambassadorship there. Foreign ambassadors were also well aware of her influence, to the extent that when she fell ill in the late 1590s, it was reported as far afield as Venice, Italy.17
Anne would mostly use her position at court to further the suits of her friends and family—particularly her nephew by marriage, Sir Robert Sidney. The Queen had appointed him governor of Flushing, a key strategic post in the Netherlands. Although this was a great honor, it was an unwelcome one for Sir Robert, who did not relish the prospect of spending long periods of time away from his wife and family. He also knew that Elizabeth’s troops in the Netherlands were poorly provided for, and that many were running up huge debts in order to furnish themselves and their men with the necessary supplies and munitions. He therefore sent frequent requests for leave, which the Queen, realizing his worth, was loath to grant.
In October 1595, after ten years’ service, Sir Robert’s wife pleaded with Lady Warwick to intervene on their behalf with the Queen. The countess advised that “as yett it is no tyme to move yt,” for her royal mistress was deeply concerned with the ever-growing Spanish presence in the Netherlands and feared that Philip II intended to launch another armada from there. However, toward the end of that year, a tragic event in Anne’s family gave her the perfect opportunity to press her nephew’s suit once more.
Lord Huntingdon, the husband of Sir Robert’s other aunt, Katherine Hasti
ngs, had fallen gravely ill. The couple were held in some esteem by Elizabeth. Katherine was another member of the Dudley family, being the youngest sister of the Queen’s late favorite. Lord Huntingdon, meanwhile, was descended on his mother’s side from Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury, daughter and sole heiress of George, Duke of Clarence, brother of King Edward IV. In the early days of their relationship, when Elizabeth was still establishing her regime, his royal blood had caused “some jealous conceit” of Huntingdon and his wife, but she had soon come to appreciate their unswerving loyalty. In 1572 she had appointed him the earl president of the Council of the North, one of the most prestigious posts outside of the court because the council was designed to keep the volatile northern counties under control.
Although Katherine spent long periods of time at their estate in Ashby de la Zouche, Leicestershire, she also made regular visits to the court, and by the early 1590s she had become a more or less permanent feature there. It is not clear whether the Queen gave her an official role in her household, but she was certainly in attendance most of the time. By 1595, she was sufficiently in favor for the Earl of Huntingdon to thank the Queen for being so gracious “to my poor wife, which I can no ways in any sort do anything to deserve.”18 Accordingly, her friends and relatives began seeking preferment through her intervention with the Queen. In September that year, Rowland Whyte, Sidney’s agent at court, urged his master: “I pray you wryt to my Lady Huntingdon by every passage, for ’tis looked for, and desire her favour to obtaine your leave to return to see her, which will much advance yt; for the Queen is willing to give her any contentment that may comfort her.”19
On December 16, 1595, news reached court that the earl was “left sick in York.” Ever the pragmatist, Elizabeth dispatched the Earl of Essex there, “to see things ordered in those parts till a trusty President can be found, if God should call him away.” She also insisted that the news be kept from the Countess of Huntingdon, anxious not to worry her unnecessarily. Three days later, a messenger arrived with the sorrowful tidings that the earl had died. Still Elizabeth was careful to conceal the truth from his widow, knowing the great love that she had borne the earl. The court was then away from London, but in her anxiety to prevent anyone but herself from breaking the news to Katherine, she set off at once for the capital. “The Queen is come to Whitehall on such a sudden that it makes the world wonder,” observed Rowland Whyte, “when it is but to break it unto her herself.” He noted that she had taken great care to prepare the ground with the countess.20
Later that day, Elizabeth journeyed to Katherine’s London home, where she at last relayed the devastating news that the earl was dead. “I am not able to deliver unto you the passions she fell into and which yet she continues in,” reported Whyte to his master. Near hysterical in her grief, Katherine had wept and wailed long into the night. Elizabeth was so concerned about her friend that she resolved to visit her again the following day. “The Queen was with my Lady Huntingdon very privat upon Saturday,” observed Whyte, “which much comforted her.”21
With no children of her own to support her, the Countess of Huntingdon fervently wished to see her nephew, Sir Robert Sidney, who was still serving in the Netherlands. As she fretted over his absence, she fell seriously ill, and those closest to her despaired of her life. “It is not possible Lady Huntingdon should continue long, so weak she is,” observed one. Upon hearing of this, the Queen at once granted Sidney permission to leave his post when pressed to do so by the countess’s sister-in-law, Lady Warwick. “Lady Warwick used Lord Huntingdon’s death as an excuse to persuade the Queen to let Robert Sidney come home on leave to comfort his aunt,” reported Whyte.22
Such opportunism did not always bring results. In January 1597, Sidney distinguished himself at the Battle of Turnhout, in which the combined Anglo-Dutch forces triumphed over the might of Spain. Seeing this as an ideal opportunity to win him some more leave, the Countess of Warwick wrote to assure him: “I doubt not butt that it will be easelie satisfied … wherof I would be as gladd, as I will be of the effectinge of anything you shall desire.”23 However, while the Queen expressed her pleasure at Sidney’s valiant service, she would not be persuaded to accede to her attendant’s request.
Undeterred, Lady Warwick petitioned her royal mistress on many other occasions during the years that followed. In March 1597, Rowland Whyte reported to his master that she had assured him: “If I had any occasion to use her to further any of yours I should come boldly unto her.”24 Perceiving the Earl of Essex’s rise to prominence at court, Lady Warwick increasingly used his influence to try to sway the Queen. Together they were a force to be reckoned with: Essex was Elizabeth’s favorite male courtier, and Lady Warwick her closest female friend and confidante. While Essex helped to further the countess’s suits and recommended her to others seeking Elizabeth’s favor, so she intervened on his behalf when he was out of favor with his royal mistress. This happened in 1599, when he had been banished from the court for flouting the Queen’s orders in Ireland. Lady Warwick sent him a message assuring him that if he came to Greenwich, where the court was then in residence, she would contrive an opportunity to let him into the palace gardens when the Queen was in a good mood, so that he could plead her forgiveness in person.
As a close associate of the Earl of Essex, Lady Warwick alienated Sir Robert Cecil, whom the Queen had appointed as her principal secretary in 1596. The countess’s niece, Lady Anne Clifford, recalled: “Sir Robert Cecil and the House of the Howards … did not much love my Aunt Warwick.”25 Becoming ever more embroiled in the faction-ridden politics of the 1590s, Lady Warwick was forced to assume greater secrecy in her dealings on behalf of Sir Robert Sidney, knowing that Cecil would counter any attempt to have him recalled. In his correspondence with her and his master, Rowland Whyte took to using code in order to disguise both Lady Warwick’s name and those of the principal players at court. Thus, in January 1598, he informed Sidney that his aunt had agreed to deliver his request for leave to the Queen, but only after Cecil—“200”—had left court, because she knew he would interfere.26
The increasingly tenuous nature of Lady Warwick’s influence with the Queen was demonstrated the following year, when the latter took offense at Sir Robert Sidney’s tarrying too long in England after finally being granted permission to visit his family. In August his steward wrote to warn him that Elizabeth was “much displeased” that he was still on English soil, despite reports that he had set off for the Netherlands some weeks before. The Countess of Warwick had informed Whyte of this and warned him that her royal mistress suspected Sir Robert of staying in the hope of seeing his ally, the Earl of Essex. Both she and Whyte strenuously denied this, but Elizabeth would not be placated, and a week later the countess reported: “the Queen is still full of the delays you made, and wishes you to write at the first opportunity,” adding that she herself would deliver his letter. Sir Robert duly wrote to his sovereign, but as well as begging her forgiveness for delaying his return, he also petitioned her for the post of Lord President of Wales, which would enable him to return to his beloved estate of Pembroke. His aunt delivered the letter to Elizabeth and helped her to read it. While it worked the desired effect of winning the Queen’s pardon, she stopped short of granting him the much-coveted post.27
The Queen’s “good opinion” of Sidney, expressed in this letter, did not last for long. By the end of the year, Whyte was writing to warn his master: “cc [Lady Warwick] finds 1500 [the Queen] more cold towards you than was wont, and could not tell what to make of it.”28 When in October 1600 Lady Warwick presented yet another request for Sidney’s leave of absence, the Queen gave one of her famous “answers answerless,” telling her: “Well, well, he shall come over, but I will see further yet.” This so incensed the countess, who was tired of being rebuffed by her royal mistress, that she was said to be “passionately troubled.”29
This episode proved that it was Elizabeth herself who held the reins of power. She would not be duped by her
ladies any more than by her ministers. They might wield influence, but only with her sanction. If any of them got above their station, they would be slapped down at once. By 1599, it seemed that Lady Warwick’s power was on the wane. In supporting the Earl of Essex, she had backed the wrong horse. He fell spectacularly from favor that year and would resort to ever more extreme—and ultimately fatal—measures to try to regain his sovereign’s good graces. The countess appealed in desperation to her old adversary, Sir Robert Cecil. “Your help is sought for and found,” she wrote, “now let it be obtained for one that hath lived long in Court with desert sufficient, being coupled with others.” In a rather unconvincing show of self-deprecation, the countess insisted that she did not by nature have “much of the fox’s craft or subtlety and as little of the lion’s help; having lost friends almost all, no face to crave, no desire to feign.”30
Perhaps Cecil worked some good on behalf of his former rival, or perhaps Elizabeth simply missed her old friend, for Lady Warwick was soon restored to her favor. When the countess fell very ill in the summer of 1599, it was noted that her royal mistress was “more than usually subject to fretting and melancholy.”31 The following year, Elizabeth showed great honor to Lady Warwick’s family by attending the wedding of her niece, Lady Anne Russell, to Lord Herbert, at Blackfriars.