Strands of My Winding Cloth

by G Lawrence

  Disturbing reports arrived from Randolph that my cousin was actively giving support to her Guise relations by urging them to overthrow the still–rebellious Huguenots. Her Council would not approve sending troops, but Mary’s support for her Catholic uncles set us on opposite sides. Increasing pressures were already upon me not to meet with Mary, and now the silly chit had thrown her lot in with the Guise! I knew they were her kin, and there is loyalty demanded to family, but she must have understood the position she was putting me in. And could she not see her support for the Guise would be dangerous to her own position in Scotland? Her men, her lords, her clergy, they were all Protestants. Mary was wagering much on a risky hand.

  Word arrived that talks of peace had failed, and war was upon France once again. We were petitioned for help from Huguenot leaders, and my men assaulted me over and over in Council on the matter. Reluctantly, believing the Huguenots may be crushed by the Catholic Guise, and thinking if the Guise prevailed then England would have sure enemies as neighbours, I gave the order for troops to be mustered to support the Prince de Conde and Admiral de Coligny. I hoped our intervention would maintain a Protestant presence in France. Certainly, if the Guise won, they would work to stamp out Protestantism in France, and might turn their ambitions on England as well.

  I sent Henry Sidney to Scotland to inform Mary that under the present circumstances we could not meet. I proposed we delay for a year, when all of these troubles might have passed. At the same time, I urged her not to support her Guise relations, for that would put her in direct opposition, not only to me, but to her Protestant subjects as well. “You must see the danger with which you dance, sister,” I wrote. “To support those whom your own people and lords view as their enemies will only bring grief to you, no matter what loyalties of blood and birth you owe to them.”

  There was a marked period of silence after that letter. I do not think my cousin of Scots was overly pleased I had highlighted the fragility of her position.

  Sidney wrote from Scotland, informing me that when he told Mary the meeting was postponed, she had left him and made for her bedchamber where she fell “to furious weeping.” He managed to rally my cousin by telling her I was just as disappointed as she. Although I was pleased Mary genuinely wished for this meeting, it was outlandish to me that she should dissolve into tears every time something happened that was not to her liking. Her emotions burst from her like a rotting quince upon the ground in November. I was unsure what to make of this behaviour.

  Since I had delayed my meeting with Mary, many thought now was a good moment to resurrect the idea of Katherine Grey becoming my heir. Was the girl to haunt me forever? Hertford and Katherine were appealing the verdict that their marriage was unlawful. They had the right to appeal, but I resented it. How often were they to defy me? Had I not been generous? As they put their case forward, some nobles sought to thrust Katherine Grey forward as my successor. I just as keenly thrust their ideas back.

  As I fenced and parried with my cousins, fresh rumours of a match between Robin and me resurfaced. I was not sure where this gossip sprang from this time. I did wonder if Robin himself had spread the rumour; testing the water, perhaps, in light of his outspoken defence of the Huguenots. But he had been quite well-behaved of late and I did not want to think we were entering another period of plotting. There was much opposition to the idea this time, even more so than before, mainly due to his uncovered dealings with de Quadra. Clearly his efforts to be seen as a defender of Protestantism had not worked in all quarters. Muttering grew about court, and none would believe me, of course, when I said loud and clear I was not about to marry Robin.

  I did not need rumour of marriage with Robin to add to my problems. He was unpopular in England, and although rumours of our marriage had aided me before to side-step other proposals, I did not want to be so closely associated with him now. I decided to take steps. I wanted my people to think I was bent on marrying another. This would halt all those thrusting Katherine Grey under my nose, and would remove the stain of Robert’s present reputation from me. I needed to resurrect a suitor, and I needed help. In secret, I met with Kat and one of my maids, Dorothy Bradbelt. It was not challenging to meet in secret with my ladies. My Bedchamber was their domain, and they ruled over its privacy as lionesses, for within those chambers I was theirs, as they were mine.

  “I need you to help me to resurrect the alliance with Sweden,” I said to them as they sat with dice ready to play and coin ready to wager. I spoke in a low tone. I did not want everyone to hear.

  “You would accept Erik of Sweden, Majesty?” Dorothy asked, surprised, and I smiled at her innocence. I liked Dorothy and trusted her. She had previously served me as a chamberer when I was under house arrest in various palaces during my sister’s reign. Recently I had rewarded her long service by making her one of my Ladies of the Presence Chamber. Since she was not of noble birth, it would not have been fitting to immediately elevate her to the Bedchamber, where the most important positions were, but she was young and had time to rise further. Dorothy was responsible for caring for the various beasts that inhabited my chambers, my lapdogs, my parrot and Gardiner, the little ape. She had an affinity with animals, able with a calm or sharp word to call them to order.

  “Actually, I intend nothing of the sort, Dorothy,” I said, still smiling as I glanced at Kat’s soft-smirking face. “But I want you two to make it appear as though I do, if you understand me?”

  Dorothy’s brow furrowed. “I am afraid I do not understand, Majesty.”

  I beckoned them closer. “Then lean in, Dorothy, and I shall tell you all that I want you and Kat to do to help me.”

  “Majesty…” Dorothy hesitated, but there was an edge of excitement in her hushed voice. “Did you not say when we were initiated into your household that we were forbidden to play with politics?”

  I grinned. “I did, Dorothy… But you are also sworn to do all that I ask of you, are you not?” She nodded and I continued. “Then allow me to temporarily relieve you of one oath, in preference of another. For when your Queen orders you to serve as her soldier in the secret wars of court, Mistress Bradbelt, then serve you shall.”

  As before, when I had used Mary Sidney to encourage de Quadra to believe I longed for marriage with the Archduke Charles, so now I formed a plan with my ladies to breathe new life into the idea of a union with Erik of Sweden. If there was a chance that I would marry and breed, then my men would cease to talk of Katherine Grey. If I was thought to be in love with Erik, then Robin’s unpopularity could affect me no more. I just needed my spies to trip forth from my chambers, and sow discord and confusion with their merry and talented tongues.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Greenwich Palace

  Summer 1562

  “We have written to the Swedish ambassador, Nils,” Kat whispered into my ear as she hung a necklace of coral beads and diamonds about my neck. “And have informed him that your Majesty is most keen for the match with Erik to go ahead, but draws back from opening discussion due to your delicate feminine modesty.”

  I snorted indelicately, giving lie to that famous delicacy of mine I so often heard about. “People will believe anything of a woman, will they not, Kat?” I murmured, barely moving my lips. “It seems to me that as long as whatever is said makes no sense, men will believe it of a woman.”

  “More to our advantage than disadvantage here, my lady,” Kat observed, pretending to play with the clasp to keep her lips close to my ear. “And you yourself have often used such ploys, playing on your sex to your advantage.”

  “That does not mean I have to like it, Kat,” I sniffed. “A soldier may lift a rock to break the skull of his foe, but he would rather bear a sword. We must use what we can to survive, that is the only honest truth.”

  “Then I would urge your Majesty to be most girlish and whim-some in response when Nils writes to you,” Kat said dryly. “And there is another element we have added, Majesty. John and I have a friend named John Dym
ock, a London jewel merchant.”

  “I know the man,” I said, turning this way and that to admire the necklace in the mirror. “He came last year with jewels to tempt me.”

  “He is at court again, and bound for Sweden after this visit,” Kat said. “I have advised him to show you jewels intended for the King of Sweden, Majesty, to allow you to publicly demonstrate you may be interested in Erik as a husband.”

  “In what way?”

  Kat walked around to my front, apparently intent on examining the set of the necklace against my white skin. “Oh… I am sure Your Majesty will find a way,” she said, putting a hand to the necklace and adjusting it.

  “Your faith in me is gratifying.”

  Kat grinned. “My faith in your abilities is endless, Elizabeth.”

  Later that week Dymock came to court. In his vast selection of fabulous jewels there was a large, rather splendid ruby. I took it in my hands, keeping an eye on the full Presence Chamber as they watched me admire its quality by holding it up to the light. “A beautiful gem,” I noted and then sighed, handing it back. “But I cannot possibly afford such baubles, however much I might desire them.”

  Primed by Kat, Dymock smiled and bowed. “I am bound for the Court of Sweden, Your Majesty,” he said, his bright eyes narrowing. “Perhaps I might suggest to King Erik that he purchase the jewel for you, as a token of love and friendship.”

  “If it should chance that the King and I were to be married,” I said loudly, chuckling. “Then it would be said that a liberal and generous King were joined with a niggardly princess! You do not think King Erik would think ill of me, do you, sir?”

  “The King, as all know, has long been enamoured of Your Majesty. I am sure it would be a great pleasure for him to purchase this jewel as a gift for you.”

  “It takes a good man to act for his lady’s interests,” I said. “And I have only ever heard fine reports of the King. I hope you will send my warm regards to him. I was quite taken with his latest poem. It caused a fluttering in my heart so loud that for a while I believed I was taken ill… and perhaps I was. Perhaps I was heart-sick, for him.”

  I talked excitedly to Dymock about Erik, and gave him a pair of fine velvet gloves, one of my best mastiffs, and a French translation of Castiglione’s The Book of the Courtier, to take with him as presents for Erik. It was enough to ignite furious conversation in the Presence Chamber that day, and later, the only gossip at court was about my fresh interest in Erik. Within a day, the city of London was on fire with speculation. Protestant members of my Council were pleased. Catholics were worried.

  Dymock sent back letters from Erik when he reached Sweden, all filled with declarations of love and joy to hear I was considering him anew. Two jewels, one of them the fabulous ruby, and a portrait of the young man arrived after. Holding the ruby in my hands, I was pleased that even if these talks were going nowhere, I had at least profited from them. I wore the ruby about court, took hold of it and sighed. Everyone believed I was overcome with love.

  Kat and Dorothy were hard at work in those late summer months, spreading rumours that I had spoken of the Swedish King’s appearance with warm approval, and was indeed considering giving up my virgin state. Pleased to imagine I had finally seen sense, my men stopped pestering me about Katherine Grey, and the rumours about Robin and me died away. Encouraged by the apparent about-turn of their mistress, the court lapsed into a period where all that was talked of was love. Love poems were traded, passed about, and made into songs. Masques became flush with tales of romance and devotion. Robin went about with a face like a spoilt lapdog left out in the rain.

  As more serious talks of marriage got underway, and my Council proposed inviting Erik to England, I decided enough was enough. I had no wish for Erik to actually visit England. I had to end this deception, and end it carefully. I instructed Kat to send letters to Nils, letters I knew would be intercepted by Cecil. The letters urged Erik to visit England so that he and I could meet but were clearly sent from Kat and Dorothy, not from me. “You will have to take the blame, as we discussed when first this was put into motion,” I said to Kat and Dorothy. “But have no fear. When the storm has passed, you will be rewarded.”

  Cecil came to my chambers that same night to inform me he had unearthed a scandalous plot within my own household, and my own ladies were involved. How I wanted to laugh! “Whatever their intentions, Majesty…” he said, after revealing what Kat and Dorothy had been up to. “… And I do believe they intended good rather than ill, they have overstepped the mark. They have played with politics. These matters are for you and the Council to act upon, not mere ladies of court!” Cecil was regarding me with eyes heavy with suspicion, but I played my part well.

  “This is unbelievable!” I shouted, rising with flushed cheeks and heated eyes. “That my own ladies would go against all I have impressed upon them!”

  “They can be dismissed for this, Majesty.” Those eyes were close on me as I raged about my chamber. My wily Cecil clearly believed I might be involved in this plot.

  “You will write this night to Chancellor Nils Gyllenstierna and tell him his informants are idle cheats who spin falsehoods!” I cried, rounding on Cecil as though I were furious. “Confine Mistress Bradbelt to her quarters and send Mistress Ashley to me! I will have none of this!”

  Cecil left to carry out my orders, his brow still dark with suspicion. When Kat arrived, I sent all others from the chamber, closed the door and shouted loud and long at my Chief Lady of the Bedchamber. I complained, I screamed, I upbraided her, I called her names and insulted her… even as Kat knelt, doubled up with laughter, crying weakly and pushing her handkerchief into her mouth to conceal the sound of her mirth. I censured her so all outside could hear me and all the time I scolded Kat, I had a huge grin upon my face.

  How I kept from spoiling the whole performance and bursting into gales of laughter, I will never know. Outside of the chamber, all those listening at the door were convinced I was livid with Kat. There were rumours she and Dorothy would be sent away for good, and wagers started on who would replace them. For the sake of appearances, both were banished from court, but it was the shortest punishment ever I doled out. Within two weeks, Kat and Dorothy were back in my service, and no more was said. I told Cecil this was due to my high regard for both women. I told him they had shown due penance and sorrow for acting without my permission. I doubt he believed me.

  Marriage talks with Sweden still went on, although with less vigour than before. The plan had worked and I made many secret, generous gifts to my loyal women for helping me to confuse and bamboozle my court once again.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Hampton Court

  Autumn 1562

  We came to Hampton Court and I was in high spirits. The brightness in my soul reflected keenly against the darkness in Robin’s, for since talks about marriage with Sweden had resumed, he had become morose. But I could not worry on that now. Robin had proved more a liability than a love in these past months.

  Hampton was glorious that autumn. The trees in the park glowed with red fire and golden warmth. The gardens my father had transformed in the year of my birth were infused with the last glory of the end of summer. I ordered my horses brought out often, so I could ride and hunt in the parks.

  In my Presence Chamber at Hampton the court would gather; thronging and milling amidst tapestry, pearl-covered tablecloths and milling before my throne of rich brown velvet, embroidered with golden thread and encrusted with diamonds. Over my head hung a canopy of estate, bearing the royal arms of England and studded with huge pearls and diamonds. It had been made for my father. I liked to use items my father had used in his lifetime. They gave me a link to him which was important, not only for my own standing, but also just because they reminded me of him. Next door to the Presence Chamber was the library, where many glorious books were stored. Maids removed dust and dirt from them each day with brushes made of horse hair. In here there were also curiosities, some th
at my father had collected, and some that had come to me as gifts. There was a chess set of alabaster, a jewelled water clock, a walking stick made from the horn of a unicorn, and a magical cup which would break if poison was poured into it.

  The palace had many conveniences, such as lead piping which brought fresh spring water to the kitchens, brewhouses and to my rooms. My bathroom was covered with glazed and decorated tiles from roof to ceiling, and had a little stove in it, which, when fed with coal and water, allowed the room to fill with steam. On cold days I would sit in here with my ladies, in naught but our undergarments, breathing in the good, thick steam and relishing the sensation of all our bodily ills being drawn out by the hot vapours.