However what had resulted instead was a match—aided and abetted by Mary Stuart I gathered—and now Charles Stuart was married to Bess of Hardwick's daughter, and these ambitious ladies were already looking forward to offspring who would have a claim to the throne.
I flew into a rage when I heard this and Cecil had a hard task restraining me. “They have been intriguing at Sheffield Castle,” I cried. “Imagine them! The three witches! Getting their heads together… Mary Stuart urging them on, reminding them of the Stuart pretensions to the throne. I shall throw the three witches and the happy married pair into the Tower.”
“Your Majesty could hardly imprison Mary Stuart for approving of the match.”
For a few minutes I would not listen to Cecil and, knowing me, he let me rage on.
“To bring the Queen of Scots to the Tower would be dangerous,” he continued eventually. “There might be an attempt to rescue her on the way there; and the cause would scarcely be considered just. She would become a martyr and you well know the people's feelings for such.”
Of course he was right.
But those women had arranged this marriage without my permission.
“Ah, there we have a point,” said Cecil. “Charles, being of royal Stuart blood, should have asked permission before marrying, and failing to do this has broken the law.”
That was good enough. Very soon I had those two energetic countesses in the Tower.
But all this was very disturbing, bringing home to me again the uneasiness of royalty, particularly that of a House which many must still believe had come to the throne not through the straight line of succession. There had been three generations of sovereign Tudors by now, but can one ever be completely safe? Even my father had had to make sure that those who might lay claim by blood to the throne were put out of the way.
That set me brooding on Mary Stuart. There would never be real peace in my life while she lived.
A further cause for annoyance was that, on his way home from Poland to France, Henri III had met and fallen in love with Louise of Lorraine whom he insisted on marrying. What was particularly galling was that La Mothe, I discovered later, had been instructed to keep the news from me as long as possible. I always felt piqued when a one-time suitor married. I wanted them to be like Robert and go on sighing for the impossible forever.
I pretended that my anger was because Henri had married a member of the House of Guise, which had always been my enemy and with whom Mary Stuart had close connections, her mother being one of them.
Then I heard that Catherine de' Medici and her Court had been amused by the action of dwarfs who had been dressed up to look like my father and myself and the Earl of Leicester. I could imagine what ribaldry had been intended; and I saw no reason for not giving expression to my indignation. I let La Mothe know of it, pointing out to him that if the courtiers of France wished to make fun of any they might first start in their own Court.
However, Catherine was still anxious to preserve good relations. She must still have hopes for the newly created Duc d'Anjou, for she sent placating letters. I was assured that the dwarfs who had taken part in the masquerade were all very pretty and the scene had much charm and had been carried out with the impeccable taste due to persons of distinction. If any offense had been taken, it must have been because of my Ambassador's imperfect knowledge of the French language.
I did not believe it, and I continued to show my displeasure.
All the same, negotiations for a marriage with my little French Prince were not broken off.
Kenilworth
ROBERT HAD LAVISHED A GREAT DEAL OF TIME AND MONEY on the Castle of Kenilworth, which had come to him with his title, and he often talked about the place, telling me how much he longed to entertain me there.
Why should I not visit his beloved mansion? I asked myself. I was constantly taking tours through the country. I liked the people to see me and I wished to be assured of their regard.
So in the summer I set out with my entourage. We made a rather impressive cavalcade passing through the countryside for we took not only trunks of clothes but household furnishings as well. I liked my bath to be taken along, for some of the houses were very primitive, and I am sure many of the inhabitants of them never dreamt of taking a bath. They had to be careful of their personal cleanliness when I was around though. I made sure of that. I liked them to know well in advance that I was coming so that they could look to the sweetening of their houses, for there was little I loathed as much as evil-smelling places and verminous rushes.
I was in good spirits when we set out, thinking of Robert whose company I should soon be enjoying, and imagining the lavish spectacles he would be devising for my pleasure.
Before we reached Itchingworth we were met by a party of riders, and I was delighted when I saw who rode at the head of them. I recognized him from a distance. No one sat a horse quite like Robert; no one had his air of distinction and mystery; it was a particularly delightful encounter because I had not been expecting it, imagining that Robert would have so much to prepare at Kenilworth that he would need to be on hand, waiting to greet me when I arrived.
“Why,” I cried out as he rode up, dismounted and knelt in that wonderfully courtly fashion which none could practice as he did, “if it is not my Lord Leicester! We did not expect you here, my lord.”
“My impatience to see Your Majesty was so great that I could wait no longer.”
“And you were sure of your welcome, I'll be bound.”
He was standing up now, so tall, so distinguished, my heart leaped with pleasure at the sight of him, as it always did after an absence.
“All is well at Kenilworth?” I asked.
“As well as it can be without Your Majesty's presence, but that I trust will soon be remedied; and then Kenilworth will be the happiest house in the world.”
Such charming things he said! He was the constant wooer and that was how I wanted it to remain.
“Have I Your Majesty's permission to ride beside you?”
“You would incur Her Majesty's displeasure if you rode anywhere else, Master of Horse.”
Then we laughed and talked and, as we rode into Itchingworth, I noticed there were two women in the party whose names had been linked with Robert's; one was Douglass Sheffield, the other was Lettice Knollys.
They were both exceptionally beautiful women and obviously of very differing temperaments. Douglass was a soft and clinging creature while the handsome Lettice, as I have said before, could take good care of herself.
I have no doubt that there were many women who could boast of encounters with Robert. Why not? As long as they were unimportant and Robert did not become heavily involved, I was not averse to his having a brief flirtation with such women. I knew very well that they were all substitutes and, he being a lusty man, they were necessary to him; any one of them would be dropped at a word from me. As long as that state was preserved I did not object.
I dismissed both women from my mind and gave myself up to the chase which was most enjoyable.
After Itchingworth we went to Grafton, which was one of my houses. The weather was very hot and, as we stepped into the cool hall, Robert said the first thing that I required was a drink of cool ale.
“As you do yourself, my lord, I'll swear,” I said.
He admitted this was so and he called to the servants to bring ale which they did, but when I put it to my lips I spat it out.
I was furious. Why, in my own house, did they have such stuff? They knew I drank only the mildest ale, and this strong variety was not to my liking; and yet they had dared bring it to me.
Robert tried a flagon and when he had sipped, grimaced.
“It is as strong as malmsey,” he cried. “I feel heady already.” Then he roared out to the servants that light ale must be brought at once.
There was pandemonium throughout the house. Where was the ale the Queen preferred? Apparently they had none in the house at all. They had known I was coming yet had
neglected to provision it, and here I was tired and hot and unable to quench my raging thirst in my own home!
“Bring something!” I shouted. “I dare not let Your Majesty take the water,” said Robert. “For all we know it could be contaminated. Leave it to me.”
What a wonderful organizer he was! What a man of action! In a few moments he had sent his servants out in all directions telling them that they must return with light ale suitable for the Queen to drink.
I was astonished at the speed with which these men came, bringing with them just the ale which suited me.
“Robert,” I said, “you are wonderful. Is there anything you cannot do?”
“Anything you ask me I will do for you,” he replied. “There is one thing I would you would do for me.”
“Dear Robert,” I said, “who knows? One day perhaps all you desire will come to you.”
A gleam of excitement shone in his eyes. I believe he was hoping for a great deal from the visit to Kenilworth. That was what I found so enchanting about Robert. He never lost hope.
And so we came to Kenilworth. What a magnificent sight! The massive Keep which formed the citadel of the castle was of great antiquity and was called Caesar's Tower. There was a beautiful lake on the southwest side, over which Robert had had a bridge built. I was very happy as I rode forward with Robert at my side. I noticed in the strong sunlight that there were streaks of silver in his thick dark hair now—which somehow endeared him to me— but there was a look of such boyish enthusiasm on his face that I could not help smiling.
I knew this was going to be the highlight of my trip—in fact, I believed, the zenith of all my wanderings—and not only because I loved to see the wonders of architecture and enjoyed the lavish entertainments my subjects devised for me, but most of all because it was Robert's achievement; he was proud of it but he could only be contented if I shared that pride.
I said: “Robert, this is to be compared with any royal palace I ever saw.”
I was reminded then of my father—as I often was—for when he had seen the splendors of Hampton Court, he had commented that it was too grand a house for a subject, and had soon taken it from Cardinal Wolsey and made it his. I did not want Kenilworth. I was content for Robert to have it; there was pleasure enough for me in remembering that it had come to him through my bounty.
“It is only Your Majesty's presence in it that can make it that,” he said now. “You transform it. It is royal because you honor it. Without you it is nothing to me but a pile of stones and empty baubles.”
That was not quite true. I knew he loved it and was often here. But it was pleasant to see the love in his eyes for me…as well as for Kenilworth.
As we rode toward the Keep ten beautiful girls, all clad in white silk, appeared; they came toward us and one of them stepped forward and raised a hand. We pulled up, and coming to stand before me, she began to recite a poem which described the happiness my presence brought to Kenilworth this day, and the Sybil went on to proclaim that my coming to Kenilworth was symbolic of my coming to the throne, and she went on to prophesy a time of peace and prosperity for England under the great Elizabeth.
I said: “What a delightful girl, what a pleasant voice and what comforting verses.”
Immensely gratified, the sybils retired gracefully and I rode on with Robert until we came to a tiltyard, where a very big man, tall and square, a giant indeed, stepped out to bar my way, brandishing a club in one hand and carrying a bunch of keys in the other. He looked ferocious and quite terrifying and for a few seconds I wondered what was happening; but glancing sideways at Robert, I saw the smile about his lips.
The giant demanded what was the cause of all the noise and who it was who dared to come riding into his master's stronghold which it was his bounden duty to protect. Then as he approached me, he looked as though he had been blinded; he put his hands up to his face and fell to his knees.
“Rise, Sir Giant,” I said. “You seem less fierce than you did a moment ago. What has happened to change you?”
“My Gracious Liege,” he cried in a parrot voice which suggested to me that he had the greatest difficulty in memorizing his lines, “I have been blinded by your glory. I have spoken rashly not knowing for a few moments what joy had come to my master's house. Clemency, Your Gracious Majesty, to your humble servant who, if you will forgive his initial mistake and take his club and keys of the Castle, only then can he hold up his head again and win back his master's regard for this terrible mistake.”
“Rise and give me the keys,” I said. “I take them most willingly, and I congratulate your master on having such an excellent servant who is ready to defend him and his castle from all intruders.”
The giant rose and handed me the keys, looking very relieved because his little act was over.
As the gates were flung open, six trumpeters who were stationed on top of the wall, dressed in long garments of white silk, lifted their silver trumpets, and there was a glorious fanfare as we rode under the gateway into Kenilworth.
There were more trumpeters on the walls of another tiltyard through which we went on the way to the inner gate. Passing through this we came to a pool on which floated a figure representing the Lady of the Lake; about her were nymphs holding blazing torches. As I stopped to admire, the Lady of the Lake began her peroration which was even more full of praise than that of the Sybil. Everything was so beautiful and original; and I was all attention wondering what was coming next.
The bridge across the lake was about twenty feet wide, Robert told me afterward, and seventy feet long; and he had had it constructed purely for my pleasure. I dismounted and walked across beside Robert, and as I did so I was met by young men and women each representing a god of mythology, all with offerings for me. There was Sylvanus, the god of the woods, who presented me with birds—bitterns and curlews, live in cages; from Ceres I had sheaves of corn, and wine from Bacchus, fish from Neptune and musical instruments from Apollo. It was an enchanting pageant.
As we came into the inner court Robert drew my attention to the clock in Caesar's Tower. It was one of the most beautiful clocks I ever saw, the face being a delicate shade of blue and the hands of gold.
I said: “But look! It has stopped.”
“All clocks have stopped at Kenilworth,” said Robert. “It means that while Your Majesty honors the Castle with your presence, time stands still.”
He looked fondly at me and I thought: Would it be possible? Only with him. Never with another. And yet, would he be quite so tender, quite so caring, toward a wife—Queen though she was—as he was toward the one he was trying to persuade to marry him?
Marriage grew stale. Courtship never.
Even here at Kenilworth, I knew that I must be perpetually wooed but never won.
* * *
WHAT HALCYON DAYS!
Whenever I traveled my subjects took great pains to give diverting entertainments in their houses, but there had never been anything like this. Robert had thought of everything for my pleasure.
“Even the Queen must remember this forever,” he said. “I want to make these days at Kenilworth some of the most memorable you have ever spent. I want no sadness to touch you, no irritation, however slight. Here is Your Majesty at this castle with your Master of Horse, whose great task and great joy in life is to serve you. I have thought of all that you love most to see and hear and do, and that is what I have planned. There shall be no moment of dullness. While Your Majesty is under this roof, every moment must be a joy, or I have failed.”
“No one could ever arrange these matters as you can, Robert, but here you have surpassed yourself.”
We hunted a great deal for he knew how I loved the sport, and he was always beside me. There were tournaments and tilting in the days and excellent feasting in the evenings when we would be entertained by tumblers, singers and musicians. There were colorful firework displays; and of course we danced every night. I danced chiefly with Robert. Although, of course, others implored the
honor of partnering me, I never enjoyed dancing with anyone as I did with him—although men like Heneage and certainly Hatton danced more gracefully than he did. But I did not want too excellent a performance from Robert. He possessed all the masculine attractions to the full, and dancing perfection was not what I expected from Robert, although such as Hatton had won my regard for the performances they gave on the dance floor.
I liked my men to show their different talents—and they did so admirably; but although I had always known that none could rank with me so high as Robert did, I realized during the days at Kenilworth how very much I cared for him and how much a part of my life he was. During the years of my glory he had never been far from my side; he was closer to me than anyone else ever could be.
Sometimes when I watched him with others I felt twinges of anger. I saw him dancing once with Lettice Knollys while Douglass Sheffield, sitting on one of the benches, followed their movements with yearning eyes. I felt annoyed—not so much with Douglass as with the saucy Lettice.
When I was being helped to bed I noticed her there among my women, and I said to her: “It is time Devereux came back from Ireland, or you went to join him there.”
“Oh, Your Majesty, I doubt I should be the slightest use to him there,” she said blithely. “He is completely absorbed in the tasks Your Majesty has set him.”
“A wife should be with her husband. Long separations are unwise.”
She said nothing but I fancied she was smirking a little, and when she was helping to unlace me, I gave her a sharp nip on the arm and said she was clumsy. I added that she must be absentminded thinking of her family at Chartley.
She was never dismayed. She presumed too much on the Boleyn connection which made us some sort of cousins.
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