by David Field
‘My first lesson in Statehood, sister dear. You have imprisoned me for the last time — now to find Cecil.’
‘He should be now be heading back from Oxford, my Lady,’ Thomas replied, minding his manners as Blanche Parry helped Elizabeth off with her riding cape and ushered her towards the fireplace with an almost motherly instruction to warm herself against any chill she might have caught after two days on the road.
Blanche looked back at Thomas with a stern glance. ‘Instead of speculating on where he might be, get yourself off and find where he actually is, then bring him back here without delay. The mistress clearly has need of him and it’s about time you did something useful.’
Thomas set off with several grumbles, and decided to save himself a great deal of trouble and the risk of missing his master on the road, by calling in at Ashridge House, the former priory that King Henry had bequeathed to the Lady Elizabeth and which was one of the royal estates for whose maintenance William Cecil was responsible. He had been gone for many months in his circuit of royal estates and Thomas had a vague memory that he had been required in Oxford as the Queen’s representative at the burning of former Archbishop Thomas Cranmer, which had taken place the previous week, according to the latest news in the kitchens at Hatfield. Knowing Cecil’s logical and systematic approach to his duties, he would no doubt have planned his itinerary around the performance of that dreadful duty, with the intention of heading back east towards Hatfield once he left Oxford. Ashridge House was only slightly out of his way, nestling in the Chiltern Hills a good day’s ride north-west of London and if he was not already there, Thomas reasoned, he soon would be.
He was met on the doorstep by Cecil himself, who appeared to be strolling back in after walking in the gardens to the rear of the house. Cecil looked aghast to see him and hastened forward to grip his arm.
‘Why are you here? Has ought happened to the Lady Elizabeth?’
‘No, she is safely back at Hatfield,’ Thomas assured him.
‘Safely?’ Cecil echoed, his face a mask of concern.
‘It would seem that the Queen had fresh cause to suspect her of treason,’ Thomas explained hastily, ‘but for some reason she was content to release her again and I must own that she seems greatly heartened since her return. There is nothing to fear, so far as I can judge.’
Cecil breathed out heavily in relief, then saw the questioning look on Thomas’s face and explained, ‘Forgive my mood, but I have just lately come from watching our former Archbishop of Canterbury roasting in the flames. It was quite the most disgusting, nauseating and inhuman thing I have ever had the misfortune to witness and I can still hear the poor devil’s screams. I was walking here in the herb garden in the hope of ridding my senses of the taste of burning human flesh. I was unsuccessful. But come inside, then you can advise me of the state of the Hatfield estate while you eat, since I doubt that your appetite has been in any way diminished by over-exertion on your part.’
Three days later they were back in the main living chamber in Hatfield and Elizabeth was proudly regaling Cecil regarding her triumph when last at Richmond Palace.
‘I find it difficult to believe that she was so easily persuaded,’ she gloated. ‘I am to report to her any attempt to engage me in further plots against the throne. That is surely no different from asking the stag to advise the huntsman when he will be available for the dogs to come calling.’
‘Do you really believe your sister to be so gullible?’ Cecil asked with a serious face. ‘There is an obvious reason why she allowed you back here on those conditions — the same reason that led to your being summoned to Richmond following the visit of Robert Dudley, whose company you should, incidentally, avoid in future.’
‘What reason might that be?’ Elizabeth asked.
It was Thomas who answered. ‘The Queen clearly has a spy installed here.’
Cecil looked at him in surprise and respect as he nodded in agreement, then turned to Blanche Parry. ‘Before you both insist that the estate is blessed with servants who have been here for many years and who you would trust with your lives, advise me who has most recently entered your service.’
Blanche thought for a moment, then her eyebrows rose in realisation as she supplied the answer. ‘There is always Matthew Middleshaw, the Under-Chamberlain. Richard Blount is nearing his retirement and we deemed it appropriate, on your advice, to appoint a replacement who might be instructed in the duties of the office while Richard worked out his last few months. Since I was then summoned to Woodstock to be with the mistress when she was released from the Tower, I left it to Richard to find and appoint his replacement. Do you say that Richard was fooled?’
Cecil shook his head. ‘We cannot be too judgmental of the man, since I have no doubt that whoever arranged for the Lady Elizabeth to be spied upon — probably Gardiner — took great pains to ensure that this Master Middleshaw was by far the best qualified for the post and came with skilfully forged letters of commendation.’
‘So say you that my own Under-Chamberlain has been listening at keyholes?’ Elizabeth asked, clearly horrified. ‘The man must be dismissed forthwith.’
‘Far from it,’ Cecil replied calmly and as Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up in challenge, he added, ‘Let me explain, while we all consider our options.’
Well?’ Elizabeth demanded impatiently once they had called for wine, during which Cecil had pressed his fingers to his lips in a gesture for them to maintain a discreet silence, then followed the serving boy to the door and closed it firmly following his departure.
‘It is as follows,’ Cecil explained. ‘If we assume for the moment that the Queen’s appointed spy is indeed this Matthew Middleshaw, then she is relying on him to keep her advised of what transpires here. If the man is dismissed, she will surely replace him, will she not? And she might also be alerted to the fact that we know that she’s spying on you.’
‘But she has, since Middleshaw’s appointment, entrusted me with the duty of reporting any treasonous plots that may be brought for my approval,’ Elizabeth reminded him.
He smiled one of his condescending smiles before replying, ‘Do you, with all the respect that is due to your royal person, sincerely believe that Queen Mary would entrust you with that solemn task without ensuring that there is someone here to report any failing on your part?’
‘So,’ Elizabeth reasoned out loud as she put the strands of logic together, ‘by seeming to entrust me with the duty of reporting any planned rebellions, she was also testing how loyal I really am? If there were to be an approach made to me that I did not report, then she would be certain of my disloyalty and this time I really would be beheaded?’
‘Precisely, my Lady,’ Cecil beamed. ‘You have learned much, in such a short period, regarding the treachery that lurks below the surface at Court.’
‘I had a good teacher,’ Elizabeth replied ruefully. ‘My own sister, no less. Thank God I also had you and will have for many years to come.’
‘So Middleshaw retains his post, even though we know him to be listening at keyholes?’ Blanche asked.
Cecil nodded, adding, ‘Clearly, better the Devil you know than the one you don’t. But we are assuming that he is the one responsible. Two words of caution on that point, if I may?’
‘You may,’ Elizabeth confirmed as she took Cecil’s hand and squeezed it affectionately. ‘I would trust you with my life, dearest Cecil.’
‘You may one day have to,’ he reminded her, ‘but consider this. It is to be doubted that your Under-Chamberlain can afford to be seen bending at keyholes, so he has almost certainly recruited someone else to collect the information that Middleshaw then relays to his paymaster at Court. Someone whose presence in the room during important conversations would barely be noticed.’
‘Who?’ Elizabeth and Blanche asked in unison.
Cecil jerked his thumb in the direction of the chamber door. ‘You will have noticed the care I took to ensure that the serving boy was out in the hallway, wi
th the door firmly shut, before we resumed our conversation?’
‘You mean Piers?’ Blanche demanded. ‘But he’s been with us for several years now.’
‘How many wine servers do you employ?’ Cecil asked.
‘Just Piers,’ Elizabeth replied, ‘and he served wine to Robert Dudley on the day he was here.’
‘But you were not careless enough to let him remain in the room and listen to your conversation?’
‘Of course not — I instructed him to leave us.’
‘And did he?’
‘Yes.’
‘With the door shut firmly behind him?’ Cecil asked.
Elizabeth looked doubtful. ‘I can’t be sure of that, since I was so intent on what Robert had to say.’
‘Allow me,’ Thomas requested as he walked to the door, opened it, walked into the hallway and seemed to close it again.
Then Cecil resumed the point he was making. ‘You mentioned earlier that when the Queen asked you to account for your conversation with Robert Dudley, she was able to accurately repeat a word he had employed?’
‘Yes — so someone was listening, but through a closed door?’ Blanche asked.
Thomas came back into the room with his characteristic smirk. ‘No —through a door that appeared to be closed, but was in fact opened a slight crack — from where you’re standing you can’t tell the difference and Lady Elizabeth just admitted to Master Cecil that the Queen was aware of a certain word that Robert Dudley had employed in his conversation with her. See, you can be overheard, without needing to resort to keyholes.’
‘You have to admit that the boy really does have his uses.’ Cecil grinned at Blanche, who shrugged her shoulders in a sign of indifference.
‘So how can we be certain that Mathew Middleshaw is the spy and that Piers is the one passing information to him?’ Elizabeth asked.
It was then Thomas who replied. ‘I can, if you so desire, obtain that confirmation from Piers using a very old and tested method of inquiry. That will then require Master Middleshaw to find another source of information and I’d be happy to accept the role of Piers’s replacement.’
‘You would spy on me?’ Elizabeth asked, failing to see the full picture.
‘Indeed he would,’ Cecil chuckled, ‘but unless I misjudge him, he is about to reveal another of his dubious talents.’
Thomas nodded in confirmation. ‘Where I come from, we have a saying that “A dog that will fetch will also carry”,’ he told them. ‘With me as your spy’s new source of information, he’ll only hear what we want him to hear. It will either be good things about you, or things designed to confuse those at Court who wish to know your true plans.’
XVI
Philip was back in England and everyone for whom his return had significance breathed a sigh of relief. For Mary it meant the return of her beloved husband and a possible resumption of relations that might result in the conception of a royal heir, while for Robert Dudley — who had been the one to alert Mary, from Calais, that they were safely on their way home after terse negotiations in the Low Countries — it meant a return to royal favour.
For Elizabeth, it promised to herald a return to a more generous and trusting attitude from a sister who might now relax and enjoy her inheritance without unjustified fears that she was surrounded on all sides by traitors and rival claimants to her throne. But there might be a heavy price to be paid, she realised, when word was transmitted from London that she could expect a visit from Philip himself, accompanied by Robert Dudley, with news that they had found a possible husband for her.
‘What must I do?’ she demanded nervously of Cecil as they sat under her favourite oak tree in the front gardens of Hatfield.
Cecil paused only briefly before giving her the benefit of his wisdom. ‘Whoever the proposed bridegroom might be, and however tempted you might be to reject him outright, you must at least give the appearance of an interest in the man. Even if it is your intention to reject the next dozen suitors whose names are put forward, you must make pretence of considering them on their merits. Otherwise it will be concluded that you have no intention of marrying.’
‘But I do not,’ Elizabeth protested with a grimace.
Cecil smiled. ‘Do you suppose that I do not know that? There must, of course, come a time in the future when you must choose a husband, but that time is not yet. But while you convince the Queen and her husband that you are giving serious consideration to the possibility of marrying a Catholic prince of Habsburg, you will be giving them both cause to believe that you have no wish to usurp the throne and re-establish Reformist practices.’
‘Again, I do not,’ Elizabeth reminded him.
‘I know that and you know that, but unfortunately your sister’s mind is somewhat disordered in that direction, while Philip is intent on including England within the Holy Roman Empire.’
‘What would be the likely reaction of Parliament, were I to take a Catholic husband, thereby signifying that the persecutions will not end should I become Queen?’
‘When you become Queen,’ Cecil reminded her with a reassuring smile. ‘When that day comes, you may of course announce to the nation that men have become free to worship in accordance with their own consciences. As for the likely reaction of Parliament, it is at present preoccupied with a demand from Philip that England declare war on France and send troops across the Channel. I have spoken out against it, on the ground of cost, while our new Lord Chancellor Nicholas Heath has no love for Spain and is averse to shedding English blood in its constant squabbles with France over dominance of the Low Countries. Archbishop Pole is opposed to a return of English soldiers to foreign soil and he and Heath between them have so far swayed Council against Philip’s demands. This has strengthened my arm in Parliament, but has increased my unpopularity with Mary.’
‘Will she move against you, think you?’ Elizabeth asked nervously.
Cecil smiled enigmatically. ‘She already has, in her own way. Thomas tells me that he has instructions from Middleshaw to report my conversations as well as yours, which is why I suggested that we take the air this morning. Unless Middleshaw has a spy installed in the foliage above our heads, we may talk freely. But Thomas will need to tell him something, so I propose that we let it be believed that you were taking my counsel on the advisability of your marrying, which in a sense you were. Then when Philip arrives carrying details of your proposed husband, you must allow Thomas to be so placed that he may report back to Mary’s spymaster that you are seriously considering the offer and eagerly sought further details from him.’
‘How can we justify Thomas’s presence in the chamber?’ Elizabeth asked. ‘A mere clerk in your employ?’
‘By precisely that excuse,’ Cecil assured her. ‘He is in the chamber, collecting papers, counting table items — whatever excuse you can dream up at the time. Then, when he is dismissed from your presence, he may claim to have listened through a part-open chamber door and by such means report a conversation that never happened.’
‘Who might be paying Middleshaw, now that Gardiner is dead?’ Elizabeth asked.
Cecil shrugged his shoulders. ‘We cannot assume that it was Gardiner, but even if it was, there can be no shortage of minor nobles of Catholic persuasion eager to earn and maintain Mary’s favour. For all we know, Middleshaw takes his orders directly from Mary herself, although this I would doubt.’
‘So would I,’ Elizabeth agreed, ‘since she is too preoccupied of late in her own personal life and now that Philip has returned she will be energetically seeking to conceive an heir.’
Cecil screwed up his mouth in an involuntary expression of distaste. ‘My Lady, you must prepare yourself for Philip’s arrival before the sun goes down. He left King’s Langley this morning, according to his previously announced itinerary and so will be here ere nightfall. He is said to be accompanied by Robert Dudley, so that should put a smile of welcome on your face at least.’
Philip and Robert arrived late that afternoon and
were shown to their guest chambers, then invited downstairs to take wine with Elizabeth. Thomas was seated behind a mountain of estate papers at a long table at the far end of the Great Hall and kept his head down in apparent concentration as Robert Dudley lost no time in covering the distance between himself and their host and embracing her warmly.
‘Dear lady!’ he enthused as he stepped back deferentially to give room for Philip to take the proffered hand and kiss it as he bowed slightly and smiled, then addressed her in French, in which, he had recently been advised, she was fluent. ‘My Lady Elizabeth, this is only the second time that we have met and I am so pleased that it is in happier circumstances.’
‘Indeed, Your Majesty,’ she replied flatteringly. ‘How, pray, is my dear sister’s health?’
‘Much restored, I am happy to say. But I bring you most heartening news.’
‘You have found me a husband?’ Elizabeth asked with all the eagerness she could manufacture.
Philip nodded. ‘A most worthy gentleman, and my cousin, Emmanuel Philibert, Duke of Savoy, who is also currently my Governor of the Netherlands. He has yet to attain his thirtieth birthday and he remains unmarried. He is both handsome and brave and was in the forefront of our troops as we marched through Flanders in open defiance of the French. He will lead the Imperial force against our sworn enemy Henry of France, but before that he would be wed to the most beautiful princess in the whole of Europe.’
‘Perhaps he might be prepared to wait until after the war with France,’ Elizabeth jested gently, ‘since I am too young to become a widow after a short time as a wife.’
Philip smiled thinly at the jest, but was clearly annoyed and Robert Dudley — whose French had improved mightily during his lengthy period at Philip’s side in the Low Countries — joined in the conversation with a view to lightening it.
