It was the French who capitulated in Scotland. The rising power of the Huguenots had beset France with its own religious divisions. This allowed Catherine de Medici and her less hawkish allies to challenge the authority of the Guises. Following the death of Marie of Guise, the French sued for peace to prevent their military costs in Scotland bringing ‘the ruin and desolation of France’. The Guises turned to Philip II to defend Catholicism in Scotland by mediating on their behalf. With his main interest being to retain England as an ally and to avoid Mary Queen of Scots also becoming the English Queen, it suited him to be pragmatic. Without consulting Mary, French and Spanish representatives met with the Scottish Regent, Châtelherault, and his deputy, Lord James Stewart. It was probably on Robert’s instigation that Cecil arrived from London to conduct negotiations on Elizabeth’s behalf. The Guises saw the Treaty of Edinburgh, signed on 6 July 1560, as a French sell-out. Elizabeth was recognised as the rightful English Queen and Mary’s claim was dropped. French and English troops were to be withdrawn from Scotland. Catholic services in Scotland were banned. Mary had retained her throne, but at a price.57 Although this one-sided treaty needed the ratification of Mary and Francis II, they never signed it.
Robert was delighted to have Cecil away from London. To the chagrin of Council members, he spent much time closeted with Elizabeth leaning her towards a rapid change in religious policy. Catholic bishops and officials were thrust into prison.58 When Cecil returned in triumph after his successful negotiations in Edinburgh, he expected some recompense for his efforts, and pensions for the Scottish lords who had supported him. Instead, he was criticised for not achieving the restitution of Calais or an indemnity to cover England’s war expenses.59 He found Robert in ‘close intimacy with the Queen, who appeared to be quite engrossed by his society’.60 Robert saw to it that neither Cecil nor Norfolk were rewarded by the parsimonious Queen, who had already contributed £241,000 as the military cost of freeing Scotland from French domination.61 Cecil was left out of pocket by £383 for his travel expenses. He blamed Robert for Elizabeth’s meanness and considered resigning. He wrote to Throckmorton in Paris to suggest that he should take over as Secretary, but this did not happen.
Cecil told de Quadra that Elizabeth would be ruined by her continued intimacy with Robert and even insinuated that they were contemplating bringing about Amy Robsart’s death by poison, so that they could marry. He did not believe Robert’s marriage to Elizabeth would be tolerated by the nation at large and hoped for a foreign alliance as the means of restoring the Exchequer’s finances. All the rumours of Amy’s planned murder seem to have emanated from Cecil, who was not above promulgating such dirty tricks, and they show his sense of desperation as Robert’s romance with Elizabeth unfolded. By telling de Quadra, Cecil could rely on him quickly disseminating the story. If Amy were seriously ill, as it appeared, her demise would happen naturally; Robert had no need to take precipitate action. Her sudden death in suspicious circumstances would be disastrous.
At the end of July the court left Greenwich, moving by easy stages to Windsor where Robert was in daily attendance on Elizabeth. They spent much time riding and hunting together. In Essex, there was even gossip that she was pregnant. Rumours on the Continent reached such a pitch that the Imperial ambassador made enquiries about Elizabeth’s virtue. Those who had known her since childhood ‘swore by all that is holy that she had most certainly never been forgetful of her honour’.62 In August, Baron Brenner, the Archduke’s representative, reported that Kat Ashley went on her knees to implore Elizabeth to marry, warning her of the disreputable stories circulating about her relationship with Robert, which ‘threatened to sully her honour and rouse discontent in her subjects’.63 Although Elizabeth was alarmed, she had apparently replied:
She hoped she had given no one just cause to associate her name with that of her equerry or of any other man. But in this world, she had had so much sorrow and so little joy! If she showed herself gracious to her Master of Horse, he deserved it, for his honourable nature and dealing.64
‘She did not see how anyone could think evil of her conduct: she was always surrounded by her ladies of the bed-chamber and maids-of-honour’.65 Nevertheless, she admitted that, if she had wanted ‘such a dishonourable life’, no one could forbid her. Brenner added: ‘I rather incline to believe it is but the innocent love which subsists at times between young men and young maidens though it be unseemly for such a Princess.’66 It seemed clear that she wanted to marry Robert, who no doubt encouraged the romance, but they would need to wait until Amy died.
Chapter 10 Robert’s relationship with Amy Robsart and her tragic death
Royal duties, imprisonment and military service abroad had kept Robert and Amy apart for much of the nine years of their marriage. In their early times together, a period of passionate romance when Robert was closely attached to Edward’s entourage, Amy had enjoyed the glamour and excitement of court. Nevertheless, she did not return at the beginning of Elizabeth’s reign. Several reasons can be put forward: that she was not well, perhaps suffering from breast cancer; that she preferred the countryside; that living in London or at court was too expensive for the couple; or that she wanted to steer clear of the growing relationship between Robert and Elizabeth. There may be some truth in all of these but there is no hint of any estrangement between Robert and Amy. She wanted to avoid being left isolated in Norfolk and spent most of her time on extended visits to friends who lived closer to London, where Robert could visit her as time permitted. She was often at Cumnor Place, at Denchworth near Abingdon, a house rented by the congenial Anthony Forster and his wife from William Owen, the physician to Henry VIII, Edward VI and Mary. Amy occupied permanent quarters there and retained Elizabeth Odingsells, Forster’s sister-in-law, as a companion. Robert visited her there as often as he could and regularly sent presents, including gold buttons, haberdashery, Holland cloth, spices, and venison. Sometimes she visited him when the court was at Windsor, staying at lodgings nearby.
As Robert’s relationship with Elizabeth developed, Amy’s absences in the country became ‘convenient’. The Queen was always jealous of those living with her male companions and Robert may have wanted to shelter Amy from court gossip, some of which was ‘obscene’.1 Her affliction was well known in court circles, and it was recognised that she did not have long to live. It is reasonable to assume that she was aware of rumours that Robert was only waiting for her death so that he could marry Elizabeth. Yet Robert still trusted her to continue the administration of their estates, and she was not too sick to travel or to delight in the latest fashions.
As Elizabeth’s love-play with Robert developed, so too did concerns about Amy’s wellbeing. As has been seen, Cecil started to use this to his advantage, telling the Spanish ambassador that Robert and Elizabeth contemplated doing away with her, so that they could marry. Within days, Amy was dead of a broken neck after being found on a landing at the bottom of two steps of stairs. Cecil only had to ask whether she fell, or was she pushed?
On Sunday 8 September 1560, Amy encouraged her staff to attend the Abingdon fair. Although Elizabeth Odingsells was also invited to go, she did not consider it seemly for her to be seen in a town full of ‘servants and ill-bred people’2 and said she would go on the Monday. The house was empty except for Amy, Elizabeth Odingsells and William Owen’s elderly widowed mother, who also occupied quarters there. It was Amy’s returning servants who found her body on a landing below a ‘pair of stairs’,3 which led from her rooms towards the hall. The immediate question was whether she could have broken her neck by falling down two steps? Was it possible that she had fallen the full length of the stairs and then been repositioned on the higher landing? If her body had been moved, she could not have committed suicide. It seemed surprising that her hooded headdress remained undisturbed.
In 1956, Professor Ian Aird in the English Historical Review put forward a plausible theory on what might have happened. He explained that in a half of all cases involving br
east cancer, ‘secondary deposits’ are present in the bones, including the spine, making them very brittle. Bones may collapse, causing a broken neck, even from the slight strain of walking, but this is more likely to occur while stepping downstairs.4 No modern commentators suspect foul play. Amy had breast cancer and was depressed, perhaps because she had failed to provide Robert with children, perhaps because she had heard of his growing attachment to Elizabeth. The Dudley family did not seem unduly surprised, and the condolences of Huntingdon (his brother-in-law’s father) were encapsulated in a letter asking Robert’s views on the quality of his venison pies.
On the following morning, one of the servants, named Bowes, was sent to Windsor to advise Robert of Amy’s death. As he went, he met Robert’s kinsman, Sir Thomas Blount, who happened to be travelling from Windsor to Abingdon on Robert’s behalf. The servant then carried on to Windsor. As soon as Robert was told, he realised the implications for his relationship with Elizabeth. There was an inevitable assumption that she had been murdered. Was it possible that the Queen was implicated? Robert immediately sent a mounted messenger after Blount to ensure that he arranged a thorough independent investigation, saying: ‘As I have ever loved you, do not dissemble with me … but send me your true conceit and opinion of the matter, whether it happened by evil chance or villainy: and fail not to let me hear continually from you.’5 He also wrote to Amy’s half-brother, John Appleyard in Norfolk, asking him to go to Cumnor Place to assess the matter for himself.
Rather than going straight to the house, Blount put up for the night at a hostelry in Abingdon, hoping to sound out local opinion. Having posed as a traveller he questioned the landlord, who assured him that it seemed to have been an accident. On arriving next day at Cumnor Place he found the coroner already there with his jury. Blount advised him of Robert’s wish that he should carry out a full and thorough investigation. He reported back to Robert that the jury was made up of sensible countrymen and Amy’s death appeared to be the result of a fall from a pair of stairs. Nevertheless, there were also rumours that Anthony Forster might have been in collusion with Robert to dispose of Amy.
Blount made his own enquiries, talking to Amy’s maid, Pinto, who claimed to have heard Amy on several occasions praying to be delivered from her desperation, but she confirmed that she thought Amy’s death was mischance, as Amy was too good a woman to commit such a mortal sin as suicide. Blount reported back that the outcome of the inquiries was likely to demonstrate Robert’s innocence, but that Amy’s mind may have been unbalanced. There can be no doubt that she was lonely and ill. Whether her desperation arose from her affliction, or from rumours of Robert’s romance with Elizabeth was not clear. The considerable tittle-tattle deeply distressed Elizabeth, and she sent Robert away to his house at Kew until a verdict could be established. No one under suspicion was permitted in the Queen’s presence until cleared. She felt ‘undeniable guilt’ that she had retained Robert at court ‘knowing that this must mean his desertion of an affectionate and faithful young wife’.6
While awaiting the outcome of the inquest, Elizabeth remained ‘pale, listless and irritable, seldom venturing from her private apartments’.7 The situation could not have suited Cecil better. With Robert being rendered powerless, Cecil was immediately back in favour.8 He wanted Elizabeth to make a marriage which would achieve a valuable alliance, in addition to the necessity of providing children. He visited his disconsolate rival kicking his heels at Kew and probably brought messages from the Queen. Robert wrote to thank him for his sympathy and to ask when he thought he could return to court. He knew it was inappropriate for him to go to Cumnor Place as he would like to have done. While still at Kew, he sent for his tailor to be measured for mourning clothes.9
On 13 or 14 September, Robert received an unofficial communication from the foreman of the coroner’s jury to say that there were no indications of foul play. Robert was concerned that this irregular correspondence might indicate that he was trying to tamper with the jury’s findings. ‘He had to clear his name of every vestige of suspicion’10 and called for the evidence to be re-examined by a second jury. His future at court and with Elizabeth depended on it. Elizabeth grasped at the indication of Robert’s innocence and welcomed him back. This was several days before the official verdict from the coroner’s jury of death by misadventure. She then announced that the matter was closed; Robert was restored to favour and she vigorously defended him. Amy’s lavish funeral took place at St Mary’s Church in Oxford a fortnight after her death. In the meantime, her body had lain at Worcester College for two days. As was the custom for a husband, Robert did not attend, but the service was taken by his chaplain, Dr Babington.
It was only Cecil who continued to insinuate that Amy was pushed, yet rumours of Robert’s involvement in her murder, with the Queen’s connivance, dogged him for the rest of his life. Cecil did nothing to dampen them, in the hope of preventing their marriage and recovering influence. In Paris, Throckmorton, the English ambassador was dismayed at the prospect of their marriage. He sent his confidential secretary, Jones, to London to explain the damaging impact it would have in France.11 Jones unguardedly reported to Cecil that Mary Queen of Scots, who considered that the English throne was being kept from her unlawfully, had listened to the scandal with ‘vivid enthusiasm’ and exclaimed: ‘The Queen of England is going to marry the Master of her Horses, who has killed his wife to make room for her!’12 It is clear that Cecil passed this on to Elizabeth, who in turn, told Robert. Robert tackled Jones to confirm what he had said, furious that Cecil would bandy such stories about. Jones was warned by Sir Henry Killigrew: ‘I think verily that my Lord Robert will run away with the hare and have the Queen.’13 Jones was not to be bridled. When he met with the Queen, ‘he threw discretion to the winds’ and told her ‘the injuries Lord Robert Dudley was working on her name and dignity’.14 Elizabeth stoutly defended Robert, saying that there was no truth to rumours of his complicity in his wife’s murder. The investigation had cleared ‘both Lord Robert’s honesty and her own honour’.15 Nevertheless, she looked ‘sickly’ and Jones concluded: ‘Surely the matter of my Lord Robert doth greatly perplex her and [the marriage] is never likely to take place.’16 Cecil had to warn Throckmorton that ‘his blunt expressions of opinion were doing more harm than good with his mistress’.17
The rumours continued. On 31 December, Throckmorton wrote to Cecil that ‘marriage to Lord Robert in the circumstances would so extinguish the Queen’s reputation, she would cease to carry any weight in European diplomacy’.18 She seemed to see the danger. In Robert’s absence, Cecil ‘extracted a positive assurance from the Queen direct, that she would not marry [Robert]’.19 Cecil was convinced that the danger of their marriage had passed. Much later, Robert claimed that ‘he had the Queen in a very good tune, till [Cecil] took her aside and dealt with her secretly, and then she was very strange suddenly’.20
Chapter 11 The not so virgin Queen
Elizabeth tried to demonstrate her continuing regard for Robert by having letters patent drawn up to offer him an earldom. This was ill-advised because at this time Ambrose, the senior member of the family, had not been restored to the earldom of Warwick. Eventually, she cut the grant in pieces. Robert, who was ‘particularly anxious for such a solid sign of favour … was as angry as he dared to be’.1 It was unfortunate that the whole court knew what she had done. Although he reproached her for her unkindness, she remained unmoved. With the suit of Prince Eric of Sweden still rumbling on, Dymock, a jeweller who undertook work at the Swedish court, wanted to end further rumours that Elizabeth intended to marry Robert. He approached Kat Ashley, with whom he was acquainted, and Kat told him ‘solemnly’ that the Queen was not entangled with any man living and that she would not have Lord Robert. Her husband, who was Keeper of the Queen’s Jewels told Dymock that the Queen would rather not marry, and certainly not to Robert. He told him that, although Robert had expected a Christmas gift of £4,000 and a dukedom, he had received only £400 in indiff
erent land.
Nevertheless, Elizabeth continued to be infatuated by Robert’s company. There was no decline in her affection for him. He was still benefiting from providing help to those who sought her assistance and continued to enjoy ‘most favoured’2 status with significant influence, but without any formal political authority. It was probably not until after Amy’s death that they seem to have become lovers in the full sense. By April 1561, he was conveniently lodged in apartments next to hers at Greenwich, and they were almost inseparable. While she could claim to be surrounded by her ladies in her own chamber, it is apparent that she visited Robert in his adjacent one. Certainly, Bess of Hardwick, who had been a Lady of the Privy Chamber, later told Mary Queen of Scots, that they had been lovers. Nevertheless, Elizabeth would not agree to marry him. He did not know where he stood with her. She seems to have accepted that their marriage would upset her adoring public, but if she fell pregnant, they could tie the knot very quickly. She assumed, probably correctly, that the prospect of an heir to the throne would overcome all criticisms of her choice of husband. There was no satisfactory form of contraception in Elizabeth’s time and church law did not permit copulation without the intention of procreating, although that does not mean that it did not happen! (The missionary position was the only approved sexual act!) If pregnancy should arise, they would probably argue that they were already secretly married, which would be difficult to disprove. Even though marriage might take place after pregnancy, so long as it happened before a child’s birth the child would be deemed legitimate. Elizabeth herself was conceived before the marriage of Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn.
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