by Georgina Lee
“You are late, Elizabeth! I was expecting you over an hour ago.”
“I am sorry, lady mother, we were delayed by one of the horses shedding a shoe.” She descends from the coach and kisses Bess on both cheeks. “How are you?”
“Hungry. I have been waiting for you and did not want to start the meal without you.”
They make their way indoors and out of the bright sunshine. The table is already laid with different cold dishes and as soon as the two women appear, a servant starts to pour wine. Caesar is barking wildly for some reason.
“What is the matter with Caesar?” asks Elizabeth, watching him out of the corner of her eye.
“You seem to have upset him. He was all right until you came,” Bess replies and helps herself to a portion of pickled fish and green herbs.
Elizabeth bites her lip; she can see the visit is going to be one of those days when nothing she does is right. Bess gives him a morsel of fish and he is quieter, eventually sitting at her feet.
“Have you heard from William lately?” she asks.
“Yes, he usually writes every day with his news.”
“Do you not think you should be with him in London, as a dutiful wife?”
“I care little for London, it is noisy, smelly and crowded. I prefer to be at home.”
“I understand how you feel, but I am sure William misses you.”
“He is too busy to miss me, anyway he will be home again soon.”
“I have good reports of Arbella, she is happy at last with Gilbert and Mary at Court.”
“I am pleased for her, life has been difficult in the past.”
“Not just for Arbella!” Bess retorts sharply. “I have also had much difficulty.”
“Of course, I did not mean to suggest …”
“People always take her side, but it was not easy for me either.”
“I know, but she has made a good impression at Court and Queen Anne likes her, which must please you.”
“It would please me more if the king would increase Arbella’s pension. Robert Cecil has asked me to help with it, but I am not going to give her more money to squander. I have told him I am not willing to do it; I think he was quite surprised. She will have to start being nicer to me, they all will.”
“I hope you do not include William and myself,” says Elizabeth lightly.
“No, and I hope you never give me cause to say it.”
There is an uncomfortable pause and Elizabeth searches for something to neutral to say, but Bess is already ahead of her.
“You said you would bring Wylkyn and James to see me today.”
“Actually, I said I would try, but Wylkyn is still at school and James has a bad cold, so I thought it best to leave him at home.”
“It is many weeks since I have seen James. He will forget what I look like, I have bought him a Bible; I know he is only young but he will learn to read it as the years pass.”
“How kind of you! We have already got one for him, so now he will have two.”
“Why did you feel the need to get one when I told you weeks ago that I had ordered one?”
“No lady mother, you did not tell us.”
“I beg your pardon, Elizabeth, I most certainly did. In this very room when we were eating, just as we are now.”
“I have no recollection, I am sure I would have remembered.”
“Well my memory is as good as ever; you must have forgotten.”
“I think not,” Elizabeth replies testily, suddenly tired of her mother-in-law’s mood. Bess looks up from feeding Caesar again. “Whatever is wrong with you today, Elizabeth? I have never known you to be so rude.”
“There is nothing wrong with me. I rather think it is you who is not quite well.”
“What do you mean?”
“First you berate me for being late, then you react harshly when I mention Arbella’s life being difficult. You try to make me feel guilty because the boys are not with me, and you have accused me of lying over a book!”
“You exaggerate! Just because I am getting old it does not mean I am unwell. I really do not know what is wrong with you all, I try to do my best, but it is impossible to please everyone. There is only Frances and William of my children who are still close to me. Henry will always be my bad son, Charles takes Gilbert’s side all the time and Mary wants nothing to do with me. It is a different story when they all want money, of course. As for Arbella, do you know she has not sent me one letter since she has been at Court? She has hurt me most cruelly. I do not see why I should always be handing out money to my ungrateful family.”
Bess is angrier than Elizabeth has ever seen her. It is obvious that she has been waiting for a while to tell someone about it.
“I am sorry that you feel like this, lady mother, but please do not take it out on me. These are matters I am powerless to control. Although I am needed at home, I come here each week because William wishes it. I do not take kindly to this treatment.” She stands up abruptly. “I shall take my leave, you must excuse me, I have a bad headache, good day, lady mother.”
“Yes, please go, I would hate to think you are forced to come and visit me!” Bess says as she glares at her departing back. Caesar begins to bark again, aware that the two women are disagreeing, and follows Elizabeth to the door, snapping at her ankles.
“When are you going to discipline this damn dog?” she yells furiously, and lifts her skirts in an attempt to fend him off with her foot.
The little dog backs off and runs back to Bess, still barking. The servant clears away Elizabeth’s plate, his eyes downcast.
“Clear it all,” she tells him. Calling Caesar, she goes outside again to sit on one of the seats under the shade of the oak tree and reflects on Elizabeth’s sudden departure. She was right, Bess did find fault with her from the moment she arrived, she could not seem to stop herself.
“What is happening to me?” she murmurs to Caesar as she strokes his back. “I am spending too long alone and in my own company. Now I have upset Elizabeth, and she probably will not come to see me again.”
The dog looks up at her trustingly.
“And I am having a conversation with my dog, this is what it means to be old.”
She closes her eyes and rests awhile; it is too warm to do anything else.
When William hears of the argument between Bess and Elizabeth, he is very concerned and tries to reconcile them. Elizabeth refuses to visit Bess, claiming she is too ill to travel and tells William she is not returning to Hardwick until her mother-in-law apologises. After several visits between the two women and using all his diplomatic skill, William finally persuades Bess to send over an apologetic letter, together with the gift of a silver and emerald brooch, which is enough to pacify her daughter-in-law, and everything returns to normal. But in March 1605, Bess takes to her bed with a high fever and a hacking cough that keeps her awake at night. William is worried enough to stay at Hardwick and supervise her care personally. He tells her one morning that Arbella has asked the king for permission to visit her.
“And what did his majesty reply?” she asks in a thin voice, in between fits of coughing.
“He was delighted to think there could be harmony between you again.”
“There has not been harmony between us for some years,” responds Bess sadly.
“And also that you treat her kindly and generously, for his sake.”
“Get paper and quill William, you can write a reply for me.”
“It can wait, lady mother. You are not well enough.”
“No, I shall dictate it now.”
Knowing better than to argue, he goes over to her desk and picks up the quill. She cannot bring herself to write directly to Arbella, but tells him to address the letter to the king. He waits as she struggles for breath, but she is determined to speak.
“I find it very strange that my granddaughter, Arbella, should wish to visit me and that she has asked for news of life at Hardwick Hall. If your majesty may recall, she coul
d not wait to leave my side and escape from her life here, which has caused me much grief. If Arbella should doubt her welcome to my house, I may reassure her that she is doubly welcome because of your majesty’s gracious attention. In response to your request that I should be monetarily generous to my granddaughter, I have already shown largesse towards her on many occasions, including the purchase of properties on her behalf to ensure an income that should be more than adequate for her needs. Of course she also has her State pension, as kindly sanctioned by your majesty.”
Bess stops and Ruby helps her to sip some wine before continuing, saying each word slowly and with care. William still has his head bent over the paper, his quill scratching rapidly.
“I have also given Arbella a gold cup worth £100 and £300 as a gift, which cannot be said to show a lack of feeling or generosity. It is to be remembered that I do have other grandchildren who, although not as elevated in status as Arbella, have their own needs and my wish to help them is undiminished. Of course if my granddaughter wishes to see me, I shall be delighted to receive her, with your gracious permission. I remain …”
She has a prolonged coughing fit and William finishes the letter with a flourish.
“I will send it right away. Arbella will be here by the end of the week I imagine.”
Very tired now, she can only nod and he leaves her to rest. He thinks it will be good to see Arbella here again, but it seems Bess has not forgotten the past so quickly. By the time Arbella arrives, over a week later, Bess is feeling a little better and well enough to sit out of bed, close to the fire. She has dozed off, and does not hear Arbella come up to her and lightly touch her shoulder.
“Lady grandmother? Are you awake?”
Bess opens her eyes and blinks. She hardly recognises her granddaughter, who is dressed in a beautiful purple silk gown with matching cloak, a colour she has not seen her wear before now. Arbella has an air of sophisticated confidence that has come from her position at Court. The thin, pale woman of the past has gone.
“So, you are here at last. You are very welcome,” she tells her, only just remembering in time not to call her ‘child.’
Arbella gives a pretty curtsey and kisses her grandmother’s cheek before pulling up another chair and sitting down opposite her. She quickly removes her cloak, as already she is very hot with the temperature in the chamber.
“How are you? I have been worried to hear that you are so unwell.”
“I am better than I was last week.”
“Is Dr. Hunton treating you?”
“Yes, he comes daily. You will see him no doubt, he often asks after you.”
“He was always very kind to me.”
“He is a good man.”
“I have many stories to tell you about my time at Court.”
“I am sure you do, William tells me you are enjoying all it has to offer. I wish you could have felt able to write and tell me yourself.”
“Well I am here now,” she says, looking round. “And glad to see everyone again. I know you will find it hard to believe, but I have been a little homesick,” she confesses.
Bess laughs and shakes her head in disbelief. “You have a good way of hiding it.”
“That is all in the past now. I am so happy at Court! The queen has made me her trainbearer and we are firm friends. You know we are the same age and find much to talk about. I sit very close to the royal family at formal events, always at the top table.”
“Of course, I expected no less. And how do you find Queen Anne?”
“She is very patient with the king, who loves hunting. I declare he spends every spare minute possible with all his friends and makes a great fuss of them.”
“William was grateful that you helped him to obtain his new title, Lord Cavendish, how splendid it sounds! And we shall have to get used to another new title for Robert Cecil, now the Earl of Salisbury.”
Arbella shrugs as if it is a minor favour.
“I am glad to use my influence with the king,” she says proudly.
Bess regards her shrewdly, it seems her granddaughter has finally grown up.
“And did you use your influence so that Mary was made a Lady of the Bedchamber?”
“I cannot take the credit for it, I think Mary has made a favourable impression on the queen.”
“Does she still wear a crucifix under her gown?”
“You know about that?” Arbella looks surprised.
Bess does not answer but her disapproving expression says it all.
“She sends you her love,” volunteers Arbella tentatively and waits for her reaction.
“Does she?” asks Bess, a little bitterly. “It is some time since I heard from her.”
“I wish we could all be friends again. Aunt Mary and Uncle Gilbert are always so good to me.”
Bess will not be drawn into this particular issue and after listening to Arbella telling her about their latest party and how lavish it was, she says she must rest before dinner.
“Will you join me downstairs, lady grandmother?”
“I think not.” She stumbles over the words. “Movement is difficult for me, I am so stiff.” Her gaze lingers on the view from the window. “I have not left this chamber for three months. You cannot imagine how much I suffer with this lack of freedom. I, who was always so active and busy.”
“I think I can well imagine,” replies Arbella slowly.
“I hope you are not comparing us! Our situations are very different. You always had youth and hope on your side. I have nothing except these four walls.”
“So you are the prisoner now! How the tables have turned!” Arbella’s voice is quiet, but there is no disguising the delight this information brings her. Bess seems not to hear. Arbella walks to the door and stares at the key in the lock. How easy it would be for her to lock Bess into the bedchamber! With a quick glance at her grandmother’s back, she grabs the key and hesitates before pulling it out.
“Are you going to lock me in, child?”
Bess has not turned round, but her voice rings out across the space between them and Arbella freezes.
“Of course not, lady grandmother. What a foolish notion!”
There is a long pause, and then the sound of soft laughter from Bess.
“Do it, if it makes you feel better. It will make no difference to me.”
Arbella leaves without replying and closes the door. She stands and stares at the key, turning it over in her hand, feeling the large scrollwork of Bess’ initials at one end.
“Is there nothing in this house that does not have her stamp upon it?” she murmurs fiercely.
She thinks of all the years her grandmother held keys, for the Scots Queen as well as herself, and the heartache that it caused. This key is just like all the other keys in the different houses she has lived in, just a piece of metal. It cannot harm her now. She will not be kept under lock and key ever again. With one swift movement, she throws it at the wall and does not look at where it has landed, before hurrying to freshen up before supper. She is relieved to find her grandmother is not as ill as she has been led to believe; but she does not stay at Hardwick for long.
1605 – 1608
Bess recovers from her illness only to receive notice that Gilbert is suing her, claiming that she has cut down trees and mined for coal on land that was his, not hers. She has fought all her life for her rights and she is not going to stop now. Her victory is bittersweet as it did not help to heal the rift between them, and reconciliation seems as distant as ever. In the November of 1605, Gilbert is sent to the Tower for questioning over his alleged involvement in the Gunpowder Plot, but released shortly afterwards. The previous year Henry suffered the same fate over what was called the Bye Plot and Main Plot to assassinate the King and his son Prince Henry. Bess can only watch and fret over these events from the safety of Hardwick, but she does not help Henry when he again asked for a large sum of money to pay his debts. Still forced to live at Tutbury because he cannot afford to furnish Chatswor
th, he becomes depressed, making life even more difficult for his wife, Grace. In September 1606 the whole family gathers for the wedding of Gilbert and Mary’s youngest daughter Alathea, when Bess makes peace with Mary, Charles and Gilbert at last. But Bess’ health gives cause for concern again in the winter of 1607-08.
Hardwick Hall
The snow and ice began at the end of November, covering all of England and remained for eight long weeks; no one can remember a winter as bitterly cold. Rivers are frozen solid and on the Thames, horses can be ridden from one side to the other. People go about their daily business as best they can, wrapped and swaddled under layers of clothing, their breath visible in the air. Some people simply die of cold, found stiff and lifeless in their beds. When Timothy brings the daily sheaf of paperwork for her to check, her signature is shaky and she looks at it with a growing sense of her own mortality. Servants are kept busy carrying trays of food up and down stairs for her, as well as bringing coal to feed the insatiable fire and emptying the velvet covered close stool. Christmas is spent quietly, William and Elizabeth are at Court for the celebrations, all the more lavish as the King of Denmark is visiting his sister Queen Anne.
Bess is not well at all through these months, constantly battling with a persistent cough and sore throat. She loses her normally healthy appetite and sometimes only manages to sip a little broth throughout the day. Ruby is unwell herself, so a local gentlewoman and friend, Mistress Digby, offers to care for her. At the beginning of January she is worried enough to send a messenger to London for William to return at once, and he hurries back up north to be at her bedside.
Elizabeth takes over the management of the house, supervising the servants and ensuring the smooth running of everything. William and Timothy ensure that her business affairs continue to be handled efficiently, as she would wish. William sits next to her bed and listens to her talk whenever she is well enough to do so. Each day takes on an almost surreal quality in the dim light of the chamber, contrasting with the still, stark whiteness of outside, where nothing is moving in the fields and even the birds are silent. Mistress Digby sits by the window, patiently attending to her, her sewing hastily put down whenever she is needed. The days are short and merge into one, they lose track of time and the house waits with bated breath. One morning as the snow falls softly and steadily, Mistress Digby appears as William and Elizabeth are having breakfast.
