Elizabeth

by Philippa Jones

  Bacon might have done better if he had studied Elizabeth’s previous remarks on the subject of children. From her own experience, families were not necessarily a source of ‘comfort and delight’. She knew that princes, and especially princesses, could have their rank stripped away and find their status in doubt. As she had told a Scottish diplomat in 1561, ‘… some [say] that this marriage was unlawful, some that one was a bastard, some other, to and fro, as they favoured or misliked. So many doubts of marriage was in all hands that I stand aw[e] myself to enter into marriage fearing the controversy.’56

  She knew, too, that a ruler had cause to fear their heir and also knew that a blood tie was no guarantee of love and fidelity: ‘Princes cannot like their children, those that should succeed unto them.’57 Furthermore, there was no guarantee that an heir would follow her policies, as she had stated in 1559 in an address to Parliament: ‘although I be never so careful of your well doings, and mind ever so to be, yet may my issue grow out of kind, and become perhaps ungracious.’58 Not to mention that if, indeed, she had borne a child by Thomas Seymour or Robert Dudley, she already knew the pains and terrors of childbirth.

  To strengthen her argument, Elizabeth raised the fear of civil war, telling her Council that although she might be old, ‘… God would send her children as he did to St Elizabeth, and they had better consider well what they were asking, as, if she declared a successor, it would cost much blood to England.’59 It was not impossible to foresee a situation arising in which the country could be torn apart by different factions supporting the Queen, her successor, or other candidates to the throne.

  If she named either Catherine or Mary Grey as heir, there would be disgruntled Protestants who supported Henry Hastings, never mind the reaction of Catholics. If she named Mary, Queen of Scots, there would be Catholics who supported Lady Margaret Douglas, as well as an extreme Protestant backlash that could well risk her reign. The wisest move was the one she chose: to offer possibilities, but no certainties. She summed up her position, ‘So long as I live, I shall be Queen of England. When I am dead, they shall succeed that have the most right.’60

  Catherine Grey was taken out of the running. She had been sent to the Tower with her son and unrecognized husband, Edward Seymour, but he had bribed their warders to enable them to visit each other in secret; when Catherine fell pregnant and gave birth to a second son in February 1563, the heirless Queen was furious. A second commission was set up and a formal declaration made that the marriage between Catherine and Edward had never taken place, making their two sons bastards and resulting in Edward having to pay a fine of 15,000 marks for having seduced a virgin of royal blood and having ‘ravished her a second time’.61

  The couple were separated, with Catherine sent to her uncle, and Edward Seymour remaining in the Tower. This did not seem to dissuade those who supported Catherine and her sons as heirs for the throne. Later in the year, a Member of Parliament named John Hales published a pamphlet with the support of Catherine, her uncle Sir John, Edward Seymour and his mother Anne Seymour, the Dowager Duchess of Somerset, which made an argument for Catherine Grey as heiress. It claimed that her marriage was legitimate, making her sons lawfully born male heirs, direct descendants of Henry VII, pure English and Protestant.

  Viewing this development as a conspiracy, Elizabeth reacted harshly. Hales was incarcerated in the Fleet prison for six months, and Catherine was removed from her uncle’s care and spent the rest of her life in captivity (she would die in 1568, at the age of 27), moving from house to house. She never saw her husband again.

  Cecil, who had been a favourer of Lady Catherine’s title to the Crown although he refused to be enlisted in any campaign in her support, recognized the prudence of lying low and not offending the Queen. He did, however, hope that the matter would force Elizabeth’s hand in finally choosing a husband: ‘God give her Majesty by this chance a disposition to consider hereof, that either by her marriage or by some common order, we poor subjects may know where to lean and adventure our lives with contention of our consciences.’62

  Cecil’s attitude towards Robert had changed and they had achieved a relationship bordering on friendship. Both seemed to find each other a more valuable ally than enemy. Cecil wrote to Sir Thomas Smith, the Queen’s Ambassador in Paris, ‘I must confess myself to be much beholden to his Lordship [Robert] and for my part I do endeavour myself in good earnestness to merit well of him.’63 But Cecil’s support did not have the result Robert wished for, and he found himself part of an extraordinary plan hatched up by Elizabeth in the spring of 1563.

  In March, the Scottish Secretary of State, William Maitland of Lethington, came to London to sound Elizabeth out on who Mary, Queen of Scots’ next husband should be, as well as to try to persuade the Queen to formally recognize Mary as her heir. As it turned out, Elizabeth had an idea on both these topics. To everyone’s amazement, Elizabeth’s suggestion of a husband for Mary was Lord Robert Dudley!

  He was, she said, a model of everything that was manly, noble and fine. Ambassador de Quadra, writing to Philip, reported that Maitland had told him that Elizabeth had said it was a pity Ambrose Dudley did not have his brother’s physical perfection, courtly manners and intellectual capacity so they could each marry one of the brothers. Maitland, presumably not sure if Elizabeth was joking or not, responded that, as Robert was so much to her taste, the Scottish Queen could not deprive Elizabeth of such a jewel; she should marry Robert herself so that ‘… when it should please God to call her to himself, she could leave the Queen of Scots heiress both to her kingdom and her husband.’64

  Thomas Randolph, the English Ambassador to Scotland, had the unenviable task of trying to persuade Mary that this union was a good idea. He passed on Elizabeth’s own thoughts that ‘… being determined to end her life in virginity, she wished that the queen her sister should marry him.’65

  Mary, who had made derogatory remarks about Elizabeth and her ‘Horse-Master’ before, was now faced with the lure of being recognized as heir to the English throne if Robert were her consort, and did a quick U-turn, at least officially. She denied she had ever spoken rudely about Elizabeth or Robert and thought the idea had considerable merit. However, having persuaded Mary to consider the match, Randolph now found that Robert would not agree. Randolph reported back, ‘Now that I have got this Queen’s goodwill to marry where I would have her, I cannot get the man to take her for whom I was a suitor.’66

  Robert was in a difficult position – he still had hopes of marrying Elizabeth, and knew that if he showed the slightest desire to wed Mary, Elizabeth would turn on him for betraying her, yet if he publicly refused outright to consider the match, she would label him as disloyal to the Crown.

  There were also foreign policy reasons to maintain the offer for as long as possible. While Mary was considering marrying Robert, she would not accept the courtship of anyone else. Mary had let it be known that she was interested in Carlos, Prince of Asturias, the only son of Philip II. Although the young man was known to be mentally ill to the point of violence, he might become the future King of Spain, so Mary was prepared to overlook this. Philip, hoping that his recent marriage to the French Elisabeth de Valois would provide him with another son, was less enthusiastic about such a match.

  Mary also considered marrying her brother-in-law, Charles IX of France, but his mother, Catherine de Medici, Regent for the King, stopped this in its tracks. She disliked Mary and had no intention of handing overall control of the country back to the House of Guise (Mary’s relatives), who would have removed Catherine de Medici from power.

  Another young gentleman Mary was considering as a consort was the 18-year-old Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley, a descendant of James II (King of Scotland 1437–60). Darnley had a valid claim to the succession to the Scottish throne as his mother was the half-sister of James V of Scotland and his father was James’s second cousin. He was made more attractive by the fact that he also had a claim to the English throne through his mother, who
was the daughter of Henry VIII’s elder sister, Margaret Tudor. A match between Darnley and Mary, Queen of Scots would provide the strongest claim both to the throne of Scotland and that of England.

  It was therefore in Elizabeth’s interests to prevent Mary from making any formal marriage alliance with Prince Carlos, Henry Stuart or anyone else. Whether in earnest, as a diplomatic ploy, or as a blind for her own relationship with Robert, she maintained her support for Mary marrying her favourite suitor.

  At the same time, she showered gifts on Robert, including land and important posts. His brother, Ambrose, was given the Order of the Garter for his valiant, if unsuccessful, service in France. Robert himself was made High Steward of Cambridge and High Steward of Windsor. He was awarded lands in Lancashire, Yorkshire, Rutland, Surrey, Carmarthen, Cardigan and Brecknock, as well as the finest and best of all estates, the magnificent Kenilworth Castle in Warwickshire. A year later, in 1564, Elizabeth would finally give him the earldom that would raise his rank to one more suitable for marrying a Queen, investing him with the titles of Earl of Leicester and Baron Denbigh. Whether or not the scandal over Amy Robsart’s death had prevented Elizabeth from marrying Robert, it seemed that now that several years had passed, she felt she could renew her political patronage. In the years to come, Robert would remain deeply involved in Elizabeth’s political and private life.

  For all the political intrigue and Elizabeth’s evasiveness over marrying, in the five years that she had been Queen, England had begun to recover her strength and status. It was a far different country to the one she had inherited. Elizabeth had achieved the admiration of her people in what was seen as her unflinching loyalty to the English nation.

  8

  Politics or Love? 1564–82

  By 1564, against all odds, Elizabeth had reached the age of 31 without yet committing to marriage. However, for England the intricate balance of power in Europe was raising some concerns. Philip II of Spain was now married to Elisabeth de Valois, the sister of Charles IX, the King of France, who was also a close friend of Mary, Queen of Scots (a member of the French Catholic House of Guise). For her part, the widowed Queen of Scots was herself a problem; Mary was considering Carlos, Philip’s son, as a possible husband; his cousin, Charles, Archduke of Austria, was another contender for her hand. With a Catholic alliance of England’s most powerful neighbours a grave reality, Elizabeth’s ministers were worried. However, Charles IX’s mother, Catherine de Medici, fearing that such alliances might lead the Guises to hold too much power in France, suggested that her 15-year-old son might marry Elizabeth instead.

  Elizabeth, in public at least, seemed delighted with the idea; in private, she revealed otherwise. As King of the great nation of France, Charles IX would be unable to spend more than a fraction of the year with her in England. Moreover, he was far too young for her, less than half her age. Elizabeth was even heard to refer to herself as ‘old’.

  De La Mothe Fénelon, the French Ambassador, tried to flatter Elizabeth into submission: ‘… all the world stood amazed at the wrong she did to the grand endowments that God had given her of beauty, wisdom, virtue and exalted station, by refusing to leave fair posterity to succeed her … If such a marriage could happen, then would commence the most illustrious lineage that had been known for the last thousand years.’1

  When Sir Thomas Smith, the English Ambassador to France, met with Charles IX and his mother, he raised the issue of the disparity in their ages. The King told him that he found no fault with Elizabeth and wished her ‘as well content with me as I am with her age.’2 Charles IX wished negotiations to proceed at once, but Sir Thomas tried to slow things down.

  ‘If the King had three or four years more, and had seen the Queen’s Majesty, and were fallen in love with her, then I would not marvel at this haste.’

  ‘Why, I do love her indeed,’ the youthful King replied, and when the Ambassador suggested, perhaps unkindly, that in his foolish youth Charles had yet to discover what love was, Catherine de Medici stated, ‘This is no foolish love.’3

  Back in London, Elizabeth reiterated that people would find the difference in their ages incongruous. In any case, she stated, her people had made it clear that they would prefer her to marry an Englishman, although who this might be Elizabeth kept to herself. In reference to Robert, she said, ‘… as to the Earl of Leicester, I have always loved his virtues. But the aspirations towards honour and greatness which are in me, cannot suffer him as a companion and a husband.’

  De Fois, the French envoy, replied that his King would be happy if she married an Englishman, but would consider it an insult if she were to marry another European prince. Elizabeth agreed that she might be considering an English husband, but restated, ‘I will never concede to a husband any share in my power.’4

  While Elizabeth was reassuring de Fois that she was looking for an English husband, plans were afoot to find a suitable foreign prince to be her consort. The death of Emperor Ferdinand I in July 1564 had meant that an alliance of the Holy Roman Empire with England against France and Scotland now seemed an attractive political option, and the possible idea of a marital union between Elizabeth and Charles, Archduke of Austria, was resurrected.

  Elizabeth knew that this was also a useful ploy to prevent a marriage between Charles and Mary, Queen of Scots. Cecil enclosed a letter to Sir Thomas Smith along with Elizabeth’s message of formal condolence to the new Emperor Maximilian II (Holy Roman Emperor 1564–76) on the death of his father, stating that Elizabeth's message might be an expression of her intention to marry the Archduke.5

  Dr Christopher Mundt, Cecil’s intermediary at the Imperial Court, wrote in August 1564, that the matter was ‘most vital to the whole Christian world’, and that despite the Queen’s virtuous modesty in not wanting to be seen seeking a husband, it was imperative to ensure ‘a perpetual succession’. Cecil replied in September:

  With regard to her Majesty’s inclinations on the subject of her marriage, he [Cecil] can with certainty say nothing; than that he perceives that she would rather marry a foreign than a native prince, and that the more distinguished the suitor is by birth, power, and personal attractions, the better hope he will have of success. Moreover, he cannot deny that the nobleman who, with them, excites considerable expectation, to wit Lord Robert, is worthy to become the husband of the Queen. The fact of his being her Majesty’s subject, however, will prove a serious objection to him in her estimation. Nevertheless, his virtues and his excellent and heroic gifts of mind and body have so endeared him to the Queen, that she could not regard her own brother with greater affection. From which they who do not know the Queen intimately, conjecture that he will be her future husband. He, however, sees and understands that she merely takes delight in his virtues and rare qualities, and that nothing is more discussed in their conversation than that which is most consistent with virtues, and furthest removed from all unworthy sentiments.6

  Despite such reassurances, Maximilian II, Archduke Charles’s brother, warned his Ambassador not to ‘suffer himself to be led by the nose’.7 The discussions continued.

  Knowing the Queen’s liking for handsome, well-made men, Cecil wrote to ask Mundt, was it true that Archduke Charles had a bent neck? Mundt answered in all honesty that it was. But, ‘Alexander the Great had his neck bent towards the left side; would that our man may be his imitator in magnanimity and bravery. His body is elegant and middle size, more well grown and robust than the Spanish Prince.’ This was damning the marriage candidate with faint praise – Prince Carlos of Spain had one shoulder higher than the other and legs of uneven length. As a boy he was short and thin, and as an adult he could not be described as robust or healthy.

  Robert was involved in intrigues of his own, plotting to prevent Elizabeth’s marriage to Archduke Charles. He could not bear for her to choose someone else as her husband. He still retained his unique position of influence with the Queen, but there were obvious strains in their relationship.

  In August, they ar
gued when one of Robert’s followers was not allowed access to the Queen’s rooms. Robert had shouted at the man who had turned away his colleague, threatening that he would lose his job. Elizabeth angrily put Robert firmly in his place: ‘God’s death, my Lord! I have wished you well, but my favour is not so locked up for you that others shall not participate thereof … I will have here but one mistress and no master.’8

  To further underline her independence, Elizabeth started flirting with Sir Thomas Heneage, Treasurer of the Privy Chamber. Robert reacted jealously, to which Elizabeth responded in verse that this wasn’t a very attractive trait:

  No crooked leg, no blearèd eye,

  No part deformèd out of kind,

  Nor yet so ugly half can be

  As is the inward, suspicious mind.9

  Heneage was seen by some as a natural competitor to Robert for the Queen’s favour. Cecil had remarked on an apparent change in affection in a letter to Sir Thomas Smith in October, ‘There are sundry rumours … that my Lord of Leicester should not have so great favour as he had; … that Mr Heneage should be in very good favour with her Majesty and so misliked by my Lord of Leicester.’10

  Heneage was the same age as the Queen and a graduate of Queen’s College, Cambridge. He had been Steward at Hatfield before becoming a Gentleman of the Privy Chamber. He was married to Anne Poyntz, who was from a prominent West Country family. He and his wife had one child, a daughter named Elizabeth, who was born in 1556. Nonetheless, Robert was still considered as the Queen’s closest associate, even though Elizabeth had put into motion a proposed marriage between him and Mary, Queen of Scots, to which both parties seemed lukewarm at best.

  Sir James Melville, the Scottish Ambassador, visited Elizabeth in 1564, in part to try to arrange a meeting between her and Mary. They touched briefly on Lord Robert, whom the Queen referred to as ‘her brother and best friend, whom she would have married herself had she minded to take a husband.’11 Melville records that: