by Jean Plaidy
However Princess Cecilia visited England later and I was quite taken with her. She had very long straight fair hair which she could sit on when she wore it loose. She was at the time of her visit heavily pregnant and in fact actually gave birth here. Consequently I was godmother to the child.
She and the Margrave were a simple pair, and because I had made much of them on their arrival they had stayed too long, imagining that they could live at the expense of the country. They amassed vast debts and since they had no means of paying them, the Margrave was seized by his creditors and thrust into jail. When this was brought to my notice, I immediately paid his debts and he was released, but as he and his fair-headed bride were departing, her creditors arrived and seized her goods in payment of what she owed. So they departed penniless and it is easily understood why they were not very happy with their stay in England.
Cecilia was now a widow and as there had been a suggestion once that she might marry Robert, why not again? They were both free.
I would make my wishes known to Robert and send a message to Sweden without delay.
Robert was nonplussed.
He looked at me angrily and said: “Is this what you wish?”
To which I replied that he was very dear to me and as I knew he had aspirations to royalty, I thought he might acquire it through marriage with a princess.
White-faced, he strode from my apartment quite forgetful of the ceremony due to the Queen.
I could not resist teasing Lettice for if he married the Princess that would put an end to his frolicking with her.
I said to her: “It may well be that 'ere long we shall lose the shining star of our Court.”
She hesitated and I saw an enigmatical expression flit across her face.
“I mean of course the Earl of Leicester,” I went on.
“Lose him, Your Majesty?”
“Yes. There are plans for him to go to Sweden. You may have heard of the Princess Cecilia. There was a question of marriage between them long ago. She was held forth as a bait for him if he would further my marriage with her brother Eric.”
She stood with bowed head, waiting.
“Knowing how he longs for royalty I thought this would be a splendid chance for him.”
“Your Majesty is very kind to the Earl. I am sure he will be grateful.”
“Grateful!” I shouted at her, and I picked up a hairbrush and threw it at her. “Grateful for sending him away! He is furious, poor man! He hates anything that takes him away from my side. When he is the husband of the Princess, I can scarcely keep him here, can I?”
“No, Your Majesty,” she said quietly, picking up the hairbrush which she had managed to avoid and laying it on the table.
“I tell you this, my Lady Essex,” I went on. “Robert Dudley is only a truly happy man when he is with me. The great desire of his life has been to marry me, and he is the only man I ever wished to marry. I do believe that if I had not vowed to remain a virgin, I might have done so.”
She was silent and I dismissed her. She annoyed me standing there for I was certain now that Robert was not indifferent to her. I had to admit though that the manner in which she had received the news was very creditable.
The Princess Cecilia haughtily rejected the idea of marriage with Robert, as I had known all along she would.
Robert left for Buxton; he was suffering from the gout, he said; but I did wonder whether he merely wanted to get away from Court for a while. It was humiliating for him—first that I should suggest his marrying Cecilia, and then her refusing him.
I was sorry as I always was when Robert went away and if I thought he really was ill, I should be very worried indeed. But I did feel it was necessary to teach him a lesson now and then.
When he came back he was in high favor again as he always was after these little upsets between us. I wanted him to know that whatever happened that affection which had now grown over the years was too strong to be broken.
I was entertained by him at his house at Wanstead—a lovely manor house which he had bought some years before from Lord Rich. Robert had brought his special talents to bear in the house and had greatly improved it. It had a great hall with a ceiling painted to represent morning, noon and night and in which were statues representing Poetry, Music, Painting and Architecture. Exquisitely colored tapestries covered the walls and the gardens were beautiful with fountains and pieces of sculpture; and to make it more attractive it was surrounded by a forest in which deer abounded.
He had called one of the rooms the Queen's Chamber and this he had personally designed especially for me. The walls of this room were covered in some kind of tinsel material which shimmered in the sun's light and that of candles; and the bed curtains were of the same iridescent material. Knowing that this would appeal to me even more than the splendor of the furnishings, he had installed a little room adjoining the bedroom which he called a hot-house, because it was always of a higher temperature than the rest of the house, and in this was a bath, so that when I visited him I had no need to take my bath with me. There were no rushes on Robert's floors. He had carpets everywhere. He certainly knew how to make sure of comfort, and in his houses his first thought, it seemed to me, was how he could accommodate me when I visited him.
When Robert returned from Buxton I felt I had to be especially attentive to him. It had been rather unkind to offer him to the Princess Cecilia.
“Robert,” I said, “don't be sullen. It ill becomes you. You know I only offered you because I knew she wouldn't take you. You don't imagine for one instant that I should have allowed you to leave me!”
He retorted that he would have refused to go even if the Princess had accepted him.
“Nonsense,” I said. “You know you have always craved for a crown.”
“Not a crown… only one woman.”
“Dear Robert,” I said. “You must take more care of your health. Why do you get this gout? Because you stuff like a pig. Look at me. How slender I am! Why do you think that is so? It is because I am not always concerned with what I am putting into my mouth. Eat sparingly and you will cease to suffer from gout, and if you will not of your own accord, I shall see that you do.”
He liked to be scolded thus; and we were especially fond of each other for a while.
In spite of this frivolous side to my nature, it must not be thought that I was not deeply concerned with matters of state. I never forgot for one moment that I was the Queen of a great country. Even while I was dancing and acting in a most flirtatious manner with my men, I was having serious conferences with Cecil, Bacon and Walsingham on intricate matters of state. Robert, of course, often joined in these and believed himself to be something of a statesman, but he would never be a Burghley. I imagined that the difference was that Robert, being the man he was, must always think first of the advantage to himself. Burghley thought first of his country. I was the same. I loved my country. It came first. I saw my role clearly, and often when I appeared to be at my most flirtatiously frivolous I was most concerned.
Burghley and I were constantly considering the position of the Netherlands which gave us some anxiety. The struggle of that heroic nation with Spain was just beginning, for it was the aim of Philip to turn that essentially
Protestant country into a Catholic province. Burghley—stern Protestant that he was—believed that England should support the Netherlands heartily in their struggles against Spain, and the rest of the Council was with him in this.
Burghley was very lucid on the point. Our policy must be to weaken the power of France and Spain and to make sure that the Catholics in England took no comfort from them. We should help those who were fighting for liberty of conscience. “In the Netherlands they are struggling against the Pope and the tyranny of the Inquisition, which Philip is striving to set up in their land,” he maintained.
I hated war, and I was determined not to put my country at risk by making it. War was costly and, I insisted, it brought no good to any… even the victors. I had
no desire for conquest. I had my country, which meant everything to me. It was enough. All I asked was to keep that country at peace and prosperous, and I did not believe it was possible to have one without the other. It was England for me… and England only. I had not even the same feeling for Wales—the home of my ancestors—and certainly not for Scotland. It was the green and pleasant country around my capital city that I loved so dearly, and even when I went to the remote parts of England I did not feel they were quite the same to me.
Burghley earnestly pointed out the importance of the Netherlands, and although I saw the need to curb the power of Spain, I did not want to go to war on behalf of any country but my own. If any tried to invade England, then that would be the time to rise up, and none would be more fierce than I in the defense of my country; but the Netherlands was far away and the Netherlanders must sort out their own difficulties.
“There is one point which perhaps Your Majesty might like to consider,” said Burghley. “If we stand aside, the French might not.”
I saw the point of this but I reminded Burghley that while there was a possibility of an alliance between France and ourselves the French would not want to offend us.
“The negotiations for a marriage go on and on, and nothing comes of them,” said Burghley.
“This much has come of them,” I reminded him. “They have not broken down.”
“True,” he agreed, “and the Queen Mother suggests sending one of her ablest diplomats to plead her son's cause with you. To woo you on his behalf, she says.”
That appealed to me. I should enjoy being wooed by some elegant Frenchman.
“Let him come,” I said. “What keeps him?”
“Your Majesty, it will be necessary to treat the gentleman with some degree of seriousness.”
“But indeed I shall. I have always regarded these marriage propositions with serious intent.”
“Serious intent to refuse them,” said Burghley grimly.
“My lord…”
He shook his head. “It would be a great help to Your Majesty if there were one to stand beside you and share your burdens.”
“Are you suggesting, dear Spirit, that I am not capable of carrying them alone?”
“Never,” he said. “But it would be helpful to you and perhaps…”
“Perhaps I am not too old to bear an heir? Come, Burghley, you deceive yourself.”
“I would see Your Grace married to the man of your choice. And none of us has any doubt who that would be.”
“Leicester!” I cried. “I tell you this: It would be unlike myself and unmindful of my royal majesty to prefer a servant whom I myself have raised up before the greatest princes in Christendom.”
I had spoken lightly but I had raised my voice and there were others in the apartment, though not close to us. I heard the shocked silence, and I knew that there would be many to report to Robert what I had said. He would guess I was only teasing. Or would he? It was only a short time ago that I had offered him to Cecilia of Sweden.
“Come, Burghley,” I said, “let us offer a warm welcome to this Frenchman who comes to woo me.”
JEHAN DE SIMIER, the charming Frenchman who had come to woo me on behalf of his master, arrived in England and I was greatly looking forward to the exercise. Burghley, who knew me well, again warned me that I should have to take the utmost care. The situation with the Netherlands was tricky, and Walsingham agreed with him that it would go hard with us if either the French or the Spanish gained control there.
“The French will do nothing there while I dally with their little Duc through his proxy,” I said. “This marriage is of the utmost importance to the Queen Mother. Did you know that one of her soothsayers told her that all her sons would wear crowns? It has come true with one exception. My little Anjou. You see how earnest she is in her endeavors to marry me to him. She would not dream of destroying the hopes of that prophecy's coming true… even for the sake of the Netherlands.”
“Unless you propose to marry, Your Majesty must walk with extreme care.”
“Dear Spirit, you must know that when I appear to step with little consequence I am picking my way with utmost care.”
He bowed his head. He believed me.
I gave myself up to entertaining Monsieur de Simier, and what a joy that was! “I declare,” I said to him, “I am fast falling deeper in love with the Duc d'Anjou through his proxy.”
How graceful he was! How witty! He had all the social virtues and I had to admit that the French certainly shone in society. Simier could dance with grace; he had a deep knowledge of music; he was exquisite in his dress—less flamboyant than our gentlemen but somehow managing to outshine them in elegance without dazzling the observer only with the glitter of multicolored jewels. The compliments he paid were discreet and yet somehow tender and passionate and more provocative in intent than any I had received before. In fact Simier behaved like a lover—and the best sort of lover from my point of view; for this was a courtship which could go on as long as he was in the country, and I had no fear of an attempt to hurry me into a climax which might be detrimental to my dignity.
I could not have enough of Simier's company; in fact so successful was his visit that most of those around me thought that I intended entering into matrimony at last.
There were intimate discussions between the doctors and some of the members of my bedchamber as to whether I should still be able to bear a child and give the country the longed-for heir. The verdict was that this was distinctly possible. I was forty-five years of age but extraordinarily well preserved. I had all my teeth; my skin was white and clear; my face was unlined, and if my hair was not quite as bright and plentiful as it had once been, that was easily remedied. My ladies had some effective lotions and there were always false pieces and wigs to fall back on.
They were right. I was in the condition of a woman ten years younger than myself and although it was getting rather late for marriage, the verdict was that if I did not delay too long there might very well be a satisfactory outcome.
This was one of the most enjoyable periods I remember. I was being courted with charm, skill and a display of absolute adoration by one who clearly had been chosen for his abilities to represent his master. My own men showed clearly their regard for me and made it obvious that they were only in favor of the marriage because they believed it would be best for me; but the faces of those most near to me were melancholy during those days.
I asked Hatton what ailed him and he said he dared not tell me, at which I insisted.
Then he said: “Since Your Majesty commands, I will tell you it is because of this marriage.”
“Oh, so old Bellwether does not like the French.”
“I know,” he said, “that this marriage would do good to the country.” Then he raised his eyes to me with the most soulful expression and added: “I have to agree with the Council that it should take place, but when it does I shall suffer most dreadfully. Your Majesty fishes for men's souls and has so sweet a bait that none can escape your network.”
I gave him a playful push. “It will make no difference to you, my dear Mutton,” I said. “You will remain my friend as you ever were.”
It was the same with Heneage. He raised his eyes to mine and said: “I know this marriage must be but it is hard for one who loves Your Majesty— even as the French Prince will, and the greatness of his kingly birth makes him fit to have Your Majesty it is true, but the love of this humble servant is no less great than that of the highest prince.”
I replied with deep feeling that nothing would induce me to part with my dear friends, and no matter if I married the greatest prince in Christendom I should never do that.
John Aylmer, Bishop of London, may not have been able to express his devotion in such a flowery manner but he did so in a practical way. There was a great deal of talk at this time about plots devised by the Catholics, the aim being to depose me and set Mary of Scotland on the throne. In fact several waxen images of me had been
found in the house of a Catholic priest in Islington. Such matters were promptly dealt with but they did give rise to concern and I began to be plagued by a nagging toothache, which grew so bad that I was unable to sleep at night and so anxious did my ministers become—they were always thrown into a panic at any disability on my part—that they called a conference of the physicians, one of whom mentioned a certain Anthony Fenatus who had a reputation for making fantastic cures.
“What if the man is a Catholic?” said Burghley.
“What if he is one of Philip's spies?” asked Robert.
“He might be a sorcerer,” suggested Heneage.
Thus it was decided that Fenatus should not actually see me but should write a prescription which one of our men would make up.
Fenatus replied that he had no skill to produce an effective cure and if a tooth was hollow the only way to stop the pain was to withdraw it. However, if Her Majesty did not wish to submit to the chirurgical instruments, the tooth could be stopped with wax which would loosen it, but care must be taken that the wax touched no other tooth; then juice of the plant known as fenugreek, which was to be found in Suffolk, should be applied. This might loosen the tooth still more and make it easy to withdraw, for, he repeated, the only safe way to be rid of the pain was to be rid of the tooth.
The method was tried without success. The tooth remained firm and unbearably painful. My Council met and discussed the tooth as though it were the gravest matter of state, which I supposed it was for the pain was undermining my health.
Burghley implored me to have it withdrawn, but I was adamant. I could not endure the pain of it.
Then it was that John Aylmer showed his love for me in a very special way. He said: “Your Majesty, to draw a tooth is not as painful an operation as Your Majesty thinks. The pain is sharp and short and to be preferred to this enduring agony. I am an old man with few teeth to spare but Your Majesty shall see a practical experiment on me for I would willingly give my life in your service, so what is a mere tooth?”
