Henry VIII's Last Love: The Extraordinary Life of Katherine Willoughby, Lady-in-Waiting to the Tudors

by David Baldwin

  Frances had hoped that Catherine, now nineteen, would marry Edward Seymour, Lord Hertford, the son of the executed Duke of Somerset, but there seemed little hope of obtaining the queen’s permission. The succession was, and would remain, uncertain, and Elizabeth feared for the future – the future of her own unborn children – if either of the surviving Grey sisters bore a male heir. There is a tradition that the young couple asked Katherine Willoughby to intercede for them; but Katherine’s influence with the queen was limited and a letter she wrote is said to have remained undelivered because Hertford lost his nerve at the last moment. The young couple married secretly in November or December 1560, and met whenever and wherever they could until Hertford went to Paris in May to complete his education. By then Catherine was pregnant, and although she concealed her condition for as long as possible she was finally left with no alternative but to confess to everything and throw herself on the queen’s mercy.

  Elizabeth was predictably furious. Catherine lost her place in the royal privy chamber, Hertford was recalled from France, and both were clapped into the Tower. The queen’s worst fears were realised when, on 24 September, Catherine gave birth to a boy, christened Edward; and she was incandescent with rage when a second son, Thomas, arrived seventeen months later in February 1563. The Lieutenant of the Tower, Sir Edward Warner, found himself imprisoned in his own fortress for his laxity, and the young lovers were sent to separate aristocratic houses where their contact was limited to writing letters. They never saw one another again, and were not reunited until their grandson William transferred Catherine’s remains from Yoxford in Suffolk (her last place of confinement) to her husband’s tomb in Salisbury Cathedral at the end of the reign of James I.

  Catherine was only twenty-seven when she died, probably from a combination of depression and anorexia, on 27 January 1568. Elizabeth had never forgiven her, but she was still a member of the royal family and her funeral in Yoxford church had some of the trappings of a state occasion. Her body, carefully embalmed and ‘cered’ (tightly wrapped in strips of cloth soaked in molten wax), was watched over by her servants until 21 February, the day of her burial, and Katherine Willoughby was probably one of the seventy-seven official mourners together with a herald and two pursuivants who represented the establishment. The deceased’s arms were displayed ‘everywhere’ in the church, but no amount of ceremony could disguise the callousness of her treatment. Katherine had now lost two step-granddaughters, both, in the final analysis, because they stood too close to the throne.

  Richard Bertie, meanwhile, settled back into the life of a country gentleman, and was elected one of two members of Parliament for Lincolnshire (William Cecil was the other), in 1563. He sat in the Commons for four years, but his record of service there was not particularly distinguished. His membership of the committee set up to consider the matter of the succession implies that the future stability of the state was high on his list of priorities, but he would have risked the wrath of a queen who did not always take kindly to suggestions that it was imperative for her to marry. In the autumn of this year Cecil suggested another way in which he could serve the Crown and England (no precise details are given), but Bertie either did not want to burden himself further or genuinely doubted his own adequacy:

  As your loving commendations much comforted me, so the significations to some public function much encumbered me, yea, so much that if your gravity had not been the better known to me I should have thought it scant seriously written. But seeing you meant it faithfully, I pray you in season correct your error in preferring insufficiency for sufficiency, and to deliver yourself from rebuke and me from shame. My prayer is that I shall find you so friendly and readily hereunto inclined that I shall not need to iterate my suit.3

  Bertie could not avoid being drawn into the orbit of the court to some extent, however, and was one of those summoned to accompany the queen when she visited Cambridge in August 1564. The royal party spent five days in the town, and he was among the courtiers honoured with the degree of Master of Arts.

  Little love had been lost between Katherine and her cousin, Lord William Willoughby, but in 1564–5 the differences that had soured their relationship for nearly four decades were finally settled. It was agreed that Lord William would abandon his claim to the manors of Willoughby, Eresby, Spilsby, Toynton, Steeping and Pinchbech; while Katherine for her part would not challenge his occupation of Parham, Orford and Hogsthorpe. It is unclear why this accord could not have been reached years earlier; perhaps both parties were weary of the conflict and readier to compromise than had once been the case.4

  Like most of her contemporaries, Katherine only really comes to our attention when something ‘happens’ – when, for example, she heard that fire had damaged part of the Barbican in May 15635 – and there must have been many days when her existence was routine, even humdrum. In the ordinary way we would know very little about this part of her life, but an account book detailing expenses incurred at Grimsthorpe in the period 1560–2 has survived and tells us a great deal about the organisation of the establishment and how money was spent.6 It begins with a list of ‘suche as dayly remayne in the housholde’ headed by ‘the Master [Bertie], my Lady’s Grace [Katherine], Lady Elinor, Mr Peregrine and Mistress Suzan’. Lady Goff assumes that ‘Lady Elinor’ was Katherine’s younger stepdaughter Eleanor Clifford, but she had died in November 1547 – the identity of this Eleanor remains unknown.

  Next come the servants, about a hundred in total, including a steward, a comptroller, a master of the horse, three gentlemen ushers and seven gentlemen waiters, a clerk of the provisions and a clerk of the kitchen, yeomen of the cellar and wardrobe, a butler, a pantler, yeoman ushers, footmen, a brewer, cooks, grooms of the stable and children of the kitchen, besides gardeners, dairy maids and labourers. There were also a number of ‘gentlemen’s servants’ who presumably waited on the more senior employees, together with gentlewomen and women servants. Some of them, like the cofferer John Pretie, had shared Katherine’s exile, and so too had ‘Mr Coverdall, preacher’, whose name appears before those of the other males listed. This was Myles Coverdale, who had also returned to England in 1559 but who had not sought or secured reappointment as Bishop of Exeter. His biographer says that he was ‘penniless’, and Katherine sustained him for nearly five years until he accepted the living of the church St Magnus the Martyr by London Bridge in January 1564.7

  The average quarterly wage was 13s 4d (one mark or two-thirds of a pound), the amount paid to the master of the horse, the clerks of the kitchen and provisions, and the gentlemen ushers and waiters. Their yeoman equivalents received 10s together with the butler and the pantler; the gardeners and grooms of the stable half as much again, 15s, and the cooks and the cofferer (treasurer) 25s. Best remunerated was Myles Coverdale, who received the comparatively large sum of £5 per quarter, but his services were no doubt more highly valued than those of the others.

  It is not easy to give modern (2015) equivalents for these amounts, mainly because the problem of conversion can be approached in ways that give different and potentially widely varying answers. But the most conservative estimate is that it is necessary to multiply mid-sixteenth-century payments by a factor of at least 300, giving Coverdale (for example) an annual retainer of £6,000. This sounds comparatively modest, but we must remember that he was not required to pay council tax, did not have to worry about winter fuel bills, and was fed, and to some extent clothed, by his employer. It is worth mentioning that at the most extreme end of the scale his £20 per annum was theoretically worth £1,883,000!8

  The accounts are divided into twelve categories beginning with ‘Wardrobe of Robes’, the materials purchased to make clothes for Katherine and Bertie, their children, and members of the household. Richard Bertie seems to have particularly relished the access to fine clothes his new status gave him. Among the items listed are ‘for bombassy [bombast, a padding for garments] for my master’s satin doublet’, ‘ten ounces of Granado silk for my ma
ster’s shirts’, ‘a pair of velvet shoes for my master’ and ‘a pair of Valencia gloves … and a hat of thrummed silk, garnished, and a band of gold for my master at his coming to Grimsthorpe’. It is worth noting that most of these items had to be tailored on the premises – few were bought ready-made.

  Less costly materials were purchased to make and decorate garments for the servants and for the ten ‘children of honour’, nine boys and one girl, who lived in the house and shared Suzan and Peregrine’s play and lessons. These were youngsters whose parents were members of the local Lincolnshire gentry, and included John and Richard Turpin, whose older relatives had shared Katherine’s exile, Richard Hall, the son of Edmund Hall, her cousin by marriage, and Anthony Blakborn, who was almost certainly related to the reliable Margaret.9 Also mentioned are George Sebastian and George Adams, whose names sound English but who are referred to in one entry as ‘the two Polish Georges’. On one occasion a lute was bought for Suzan and Peregrine, and 6s was paid for ‘bowes and arrowes’ for George Sebastian. This was three times as much as was spent on ‘two gramer bookes’.

  The next heading, ‘Wardrobe of Beds’, included not only the purchase of beds and coverlets but also their maintenance. The ‘children of the kitchen’, and presumably all the lesser servants, had to make do with straw-filled mattresses and with ‘Irish rogge’, a coarse frieze, for blankets; but the family and more senior officials had featherbeds with bolsters and ‘white’ coverlets which cost almost twenty times as much. The featherbeds were regularly ‘driven’, a process by which a current of air was forced through the contents to prevent them from becoming too compacted and uncomfortable to sleep on; and in November 1561 ‘thirteen mats to lay under beds’ were purchased, although whether their purpose was to protect the beds or the sleepers from the chill of the stone floor is uncertain. Additional costs included rushes for the floors, ‘a candlestick for a watche light’ and ‘redd lead for the stove’.

  The third category, ‘Gifts and Rewards’, covered a multitude of expenses, not least the many sums paid to entertainers. The queen’s players and trumpeters were just two of the troupes who amused the household during this period, and Katherine enjoyed the services of ‘two men which played upon the puppets two nights’ and of ‘Mr Rose and his daughters which played before her Grace in her sickness’. Katherine contracted smallpox in the winter of 1561/2, but her illness did not prevent her from enjoying the services of performers or from playing cards. It would be interesting to know how many of those who were obliged to serve or distract her caught the virus, and how many received treatment. Were they allowed to see Doctor Keyns, whose attendance on Katherine (and also little Suzan) earned him ‘a cup of silver, all gilt’, or did they escape the attentions of a man whose knowledge of medicine was still founded on the ancient concepts of astrology and the internal balance of the four ‘humours’, blood, red choler, black choler and phlegm?

  Like most members of the aristocracy, Katherine and her husband wanted to be admired for their generosity, and numerous small payments were made to local people who brought gifts of produce or performed a modest service (presumably in the hope of receiving something), and to others who had fallen on hard times. ‘A poor man, one of my Lady’s Grace’s tenants, which found Mistress Suzan’s brooch, being lost’, was generously rewarded with six shillings, while ‘certain women of Spilsby which bestowed wine and cakes upon Mr Peregrine and Mistress Suzan’ were given 12d and ‘a boy that gave her Grace a posy’ 4d. Among the unfortunates was ‘a poor man at the gate which had his house burnt’ who was given 9d ‘by my master’s commandment’, and while on a journey Katherine bestowed 20d on the prisoners held in Huntingdon gaol and 4d on ‘a poor woman in the way’. ‘A poor man which had been in Bedlam’ got a shilling, and Suzan and Peregrine were given 2s ‘to buy them “fayringes” of a pedlar at the gate’.

  Only small sums were needed to win the goodwill of local people, but those in authority expected far more. The New Year gifts the Berties gave the queen in 1561–2 (a chess set decorated with gold and a gold necklace) cost them £30 16s 6d, and ‘Mistress Ashley’s man at court who let my master into the privy garden, the queen being there’, was tipped 3s 4d. In February the Lord Chief Justice was presented with ‘a standing cup of silver all gilt’ worth £11 14s 8d, his colleague Judge Brown received one of only slightly less value, and in May a third which cost £13 7s 8d was given to the queen’s attorney – Katherine and her husband may have been in dispute with the queen over the ownership of some property (discussed later), or may have been anticipating their final settlement with Lord William Willoughby. Another New Year gift went to Catherine Knollys, their Protestant friend and fellow exile, who received ‘a pair of sleeves’ worth £6. Peregrine and Suzan got forty shillings, double the amount they had received in 1660–1, possibly because their parents had been absent in London for the last quarter of the year.

  Katherine, Bertie and (in their absence) their children were frequently invited to participate in the christenings and weddings of their servants and local people, and were expected to make an appropriate gift or bear some of the cost. When Bertie stood godfather to John Persons’s child ‘by his deputy’ in January 1560–1 he gave 2s to the baby and 6d to the midwife; Mistress Skipwith’s nurse got 5s ‘when her Grace christened the child’; and ‘the christening of Mr Francis Harrington’s child by Mistress Suzan’ cost her parents 3s 4d. Similarly, when Henry Naughton (most likely a relative of Katherine’s cousin William) was married in July 1562 he was given £6 ‘to buy himself a gown of grogram10 and a doublet of satin’; the vicar of Bourne, who officiated, was paid 6s, and a ‘juggler with his “musisioner”’ who entertained the guests afterwards got 10s.

  Katherine and Bertie regularly visited other noble families in the area. In September 1562 they travelled to Launde Abbey in Leicestershire where they were entertained by Henry Cromwell, the executed Thomas’s grandson, and where they tipped the servants 20s. Their next stop was at Sir Walter Mildmay’s country house, Apethorpe Hall in Northamptonshire, where two keepers were given 12s and the yeomen of the wardrobe 3s 4d; and when they moved to Belvoir Castle in north-east Leicestershire the Earl of Rutland’s servants got 40s and ‘my Lord of Rutland’s man which played upon the lute’ 6s. At one point they were caught in a heavy shower, and Katherine dried herself by the fire of a wayside cottage. The householder was rewarded with a shilling.

  It must be emphasised that, in most cases, these are only a few of many examples that could be given, but there were also expenses which were more probably occasional or one-offs. In March 1561–2, 6s 8d was donated ‘to the collectors for Powle’s steeple’ – Old St Paul’s Cathedral had been struck by lightning – and ‘the keepers of the lions at the Tower at London’ were given 6s ‘by my master’s commandment’ the previous May. Katherine was evidently fond of birds. ‘A shipman which brought her Grace a canary bird’, again in March 1561–2, was rewarded with 20s, but another mariner who presented her with a parrot three months later had to be content with 3s. Monsieur Le Forge would have been gratified by the 20s he received for his gift of a book, a ‘bonesetter’ who reset ‘two joints which were out in young Gerves’s ankle’ charged 3s 4d, while ‘certain men which opened gaps [cleared a way] for my master and my Lady’s Grace as they came from Upton’ were tipped 3d. And before we leave this section, we should not forget ‘Mistress Brodbank’, who was paid 3s 4d ‘for catching forty-four rats at Valdey’ (Vaudey, a former monastic property granted to Charles Brandon and Katherine), in February 1560–1.

  The fourth heading, ‘Works and Buildings’, covered maintenance of the Berties’ properties, not least their houses at Grimsthorpe and the Barbican, and consisted mainly of payments to artificers – glaziers, slaters, carpenters and the like – and labourers. A man who laded water out of the cellar at the Barbican received 6d, but ‘twenty women which did weed the garden and court at Grimsthorpe’ got only 2d a day. Also mentioned here are 2s given to a painter ‘which drew
the picture of two children’, and 20d paid to another artist ‘which went to the court and drew her Grace’s arms for her saddle’.

  Category five, ‘Husbandry’, included growing crops, making farm implements, felling and cutting wood for the fires, and caring for the animals, particularly when they were ill. Some of the remedies may have been as inappropriate as those often administered to humans – in October 1560, for example, the Berties purchased ‘a pound of long pepper for medicines for sick cattle’.

  The sixth heading, ‘Necessaries’, could be taken to imply that expenses assigned to it were more essential than those in other groupings, but its real purpose was to assimilate miscellaneous outgoings that did not fit conveniently elsewhere. These included books – in January 1560–1 Myles Coverdale was reimbursed 12s for a copy of Eliot’s dictionary and 8s 8d for four copies each of Lillie’s grammars, (Plato’s?) dialogues, and Aesop’s fables – along with brown paper bought to ‘stop cranies in the chambers’ when Katherine was ill, and, more surprisingly, numerous small losses sustained gambling. Bertie, it seems, liked to bet on everything from a game of cards to which bowman would win an archery contest, and even the children were given 5s ‘to play upon Christmas day’. The Berties were Puritans, but their brand of puritanism was concerned principally with the right interpretation of scripture and with promoting a simpler form of worship. They were not the Cromwellian killjoys of the English Civil War.