After Elizabeth
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Praise
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
AUTHOR’S NOTE
GENEALOGY
PART ONE
CHAPTER ONE - “THE WORLD WAXED OLD” The Twilight of the Tudor Dynasty
CHAPTER TWO - “A BABE CROWNED IN HIS CRADLE” The Shaping of the King of Scots
PART TWO
CHAPTER THREE - “WESTWARD . . . DESCENDED A HIDEOUS TEMPEST” The Death of Elizabeth, February–March 1603
CHAPTER FOUR - “LOTS WERE CAST UPON OUR LAND” The Coming of Arthur, March–April 1603
CHAPTER FIVE - “HOPE AND FEAR” Winners and Losers, April–May 1603
CHAPTER SIX - “THE BEGGARS HAVE COME TO TOWN” Plague and Plot in London, May–June 1603
PART THREE
CHAPTER SEVEN - “AN ANOINTED KING” James and Anna Are Crowned, July–August 1603
CHAPTER EIGHT - “THE GOD OF TRUTH AND TIME” Trial, Judgment and the Dawn of the Stuart Age
About the Author
NOTES
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Copyright Page
For Peter, Rupert, Christian and Dominic, my cornerstones
If you can look into the seeds of time,
And say which grain will grow and which will not.
—WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, Macbeth
Praise for AFTER ELIZABETH
“De Lisle brilliantly captures the atmosphere of dangerous uncertainty and furtive intrigue that characterized the last years of Elizabeth’s reign. . . . There is much here to savor.” —The Sunday Telegraph (London)
“After Elizabeth is simply stunning, re-creating the uncertainty and opportunity of one of the great dramas in British history.” — The Daily Mail
“This is a dense, dark story but one where the modern parallels are but one element that keeps you turning the pages.” —The Independent
“Leanda de Lisle has done what historians, to date, have overlooked.
She spots the story in the seemingly uneventful handover of power to James I after Elizabeth’s death and rediscovers its thrilling drama. James’s accession was far from inevitable—de Lisle vividly recounts the uncertainty, greed, intrigue, and hypocrisy that defined the new age. We enter a slippery twilight world where legitimacy is debased and conspiracy and corruption thrive. This is an original, informative, absorbing account, written with verve and style.”
—JOHN GUY, author of Queen of Scots: The True Life of Mary Stuart
“Splendid . . . de Lisle’s book is a narrative triumph; this is history at its best.” —Sunday Express (London)
“A deep and fascinating account of this transformative year. Leanda de Lisle’s close focus draws us into palace corridors, country houses, and city streets where the excitement, intrigue, and danger are palpable.” —JANE DUNN, author of Elizabeth & Mary: Cousins, Rivals, Queens
“Leanda de Lisle’s lively account gives us an enjoyable insight into the tense transitional period between the Tudor and Stuart eras.” —The Spectator
“This masterly account recaptures superbly the edgy, wary feel of court and country at the key moment when Tudor England was transformed into Stuart Britain. In emphasizing the faults of Queen Elizabeth I and the acuity of her successor, King James I, Leanda de Lisle has brilliantly subverted the traditional story.” —ANDREW ROBERTS, author of Napoleon and Wellington: The Long Duel
“A tremendous read.” —The Scotsman
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
SECTION 1
Sir John Harington. From Sir John: Nugae Antiquae, with notes by Thomas Park, 2 vols. (London, 1804).
Henry VIII, Henry VII, Elizabeth of York and Jane Seymour, by Remigius van Leemput. Reproduced courtesy of the Royal Collection, © HM Queen Elizabeth II.
Lady Katherine Seymour (neé Grey) holding her son, attributed to Levina Teerlinc. Reproduced courtesy of Belvoir Castle, Leicestershire, UK/Bridgeman Art Library, London.
The Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia with a dwarf, by Frans Pourbus the Younger. Reproduced courtesy of the Royal Collection, © HM Queen Elizabeth II.
Sir Robert Cecil, by John de Critz. Reproduced courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London.
Robert Devereux, by Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger. Reproduced courtesy of Woburn Abbey, Bedfordshire, UK/Bridgeman Art Library, London.
Prospect of Edinburgh, by John Speed. Reproduced courtesy of the British Library.
James VI of Scotland, attributed to Adrian Vanson. Reproduced courtesy of the National Galleries of Scotland.
Map of Scotland, by John Speed. Reproduced courtesy of the National Library of Scotland.
Anna of Denmark, by John de Critz. Reproduced courtesy of the National Maritime Museum, London.
Robert Persons. Reproduced courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London.
Sir Walter Ralegh and his son, artist unknown. Reproduced courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London.
The Thames at Richmond, with the Old Royal Palace c. 1620. Reproduced courtesy of the Fitzwilliam Museum, University of Cambridge, UK/Bridgeman Art Library, London.
Queen Elizabeth I, by Nicholas Hilliard. Reproduced courtesy of a Private Collection/Bridgeman Art Library.
Hardwick Hall. Photograph © Corbis.
Lady Arbella Stuart, by Rowland Lockey. Reproduced courtesy of the National Trust Photographic Library/John Hammond.
SECTION 2
Sir Robert Carey, by James Stow. Reproduced courtesy of the Royal Collec tion, © HM Queen Elizabeth II.
Henry Wriothesley, attributed to John de Critz the Elder. Reproduced courtesy of Boughton House, Northamptonshire, UK/Bridgeman Art Library, London.
Town plan of Berwick, by John Speed.
Lumley Castle. Photograph © Country Life Picture Library.
Town plan of Durham, by John Speed.
Town plan of York, by John Speed.
Burghley House. Photograph © Corbis.
A statue of King James in the hall at Apethorpe. Photograph © Country Life Picture Library.
Queen Elizabeth I funeral procession. Reproduced courtesy of the British Library.
Henry Percy, by Nicholas Hilliard. Reproduced courtesy of the Fitzwilliam Museum, University of Cambridge, UK/Bridgeman Art Library, London.
Dingley Hall. Photograph © Country Life Picture Library.
Anna of Denmark, by Paul Van Somer. Reproduced courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London.
Henry, Prince of Wales, by Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger. Reproduced courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London.
Princess Elizabeth, by Robert Peake the Elder. Reproduced courtesy of the National Maritime Museum, London/Bridgeman Art Library, London.
Lucy, Countess of Bedford, artist unknown. Reproduced courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London.
Charles Howard, first Earl of Nottingham, artist unknown. Reproduced courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London.
Coronation of James I. Reproduced courtesy of the Art Archive.
James I, by Paul Van Somer. Reproduced courtesy of the Royal Collection, © HM Queen Elizabeth II.
Mary Rogers, Lady Harington, by Marcus Gheeraerts the Younger. Photograph © Tate, London 2004.
Round table at Winchester. Photograph © Ancient Art and Architecture Collection.
Electrotype of the tomb of Queen Elizabeth I, by Elkington & Co., cast by Domenico Brucciani, after Maximilian Colte. Reproduced courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London.
Design for the new British flag, by the Earl of Nottingham. Reproduced courtesy of the National Library of Scotland.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I have been asked what first drew me to the
story of Elizabeth’s death and the accession of James I. Initially it was the drama of events that were not then the particular subject of any book but were glimpsed in biographies and other histories. I remained fascinated, as so much that I read surprised me. The great Elizabeth emerged as fearful and isolated, her government deeply unpopular; our national hero, Sir Walter Ralegh, was despised for acts of barbarity that disgusted even the hardened stomachs of his contemporaries, and was ready to plot with Spain to overthrow the King of England; Catholic priests, far from being united in the face of oppression, were betraying each other to the authorities in a fratricidal war. And James, the slobbering fool of popular memory, was a young, astute and energetic King of Scots, while his little-known wife, Anna, was a fascinating and extraordinary queen.
The first two chapters examine the background to events in England and Scotland. The decades of the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries then pass to the weeks and days of 1603 and a more detailed picture of the cusp of the Tudor and Stuart age emerges. There are many threads to the narrative and I am grateful to those individuals who helped weave them together. Elizabeth’s godson, Sir John Harington, explains, often in his own words, the long history of the succession question and anchors it in the winter of 1602–3. He also comments on the key events that followed. The pirate William Piers plays a smaller part in the book, though an important one, as his story helps illustrate the fate of piracy, a significant feature of Elizabeth’s reign, within the narrative. The journal of the Duke of Stettin serves a rather different purpose, describing England’s palaces, towns and people as they were in the summer of 1602, just a few months before James saw them for the first time.
This brings me to the subject of source material. I have quoted contemporaries extensively but I have modernized the spelling so that the text reads fluently. Dates have also been modernized so that the year is dated from 1 January rather than 25 March, as it was then. Just as important as primary sources is the use of good secondary sources. I owe a great deal to the scholars whose works are listed in the bibliography, but I would particularly like to thank Dr. Kenneth Fincham for his kind and invaluable help in pointing me in the direction of useful academic articles as well as answering queries or passing questions on to Dr. Michael Questier (to whom also many thanks). Dr. Fincham read the first complete draft of the manuscript, correcting errors and making incisive suggestions about how the book could be improved. I have done my best to follow his advice. Any errors and faults that remain are obviously my own.
I would like to thank Professor John Finnis for his generosity in drawing my attention to newly discovered source material and for providing me with his personal transcriptions of documents, and Claude Blair for reading the section on the coronation, pointing out errors and drawing my attention to information of which I was unaware. If I have inserted new mistakes, I apologize. Lord Ralph Kerr read a draft of After Elizabeth for any errors relating to Scotland—and again any mistakes that remain are very much my own responsibility. My father-in-law, Gerard de Lisle, wrote dozens of letters to provincial libraries on my behalf, as well as giving me access to his remarkable library of rare books, while my father, Michael Dormer, helped me untangle genealogies. Without the additional patience and help of the staff of the London Library I could not have written this book.
I would also like to acknowledge most gratefully the help of the following: the staff of the British Library and the Public Record Office; Christine Reynolds, assistant keeper of the Muniments, Westminster Abbey Library; Howard Usher, the archivist at Melbourne Hall; J. R. Webster, the archivist at Belvoir Castle; Mrs. R. J. Freedman, York City archivist; E. A. Rees, chief archivist, Tyne and Wear Archives Service; Richard Van Riel, curator of Pontefract; W. D. Butterworth, town clerk, Godmanchester Town Council; the Dunbar History Society; the archivists at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor; Robert Frost, senior librarian and archivist, Yorkshire Archaeological Society; Ruth Harris, principal district archivist, West Yorkshire Archive Service; Alan Akeroyd, senior archivist, Cambridgeshire County Council; Jon Culverhouse, curator, Burghley House, Stamford; Janet Robb, librarian, North Nottinghamshire County Library; Anita Thompson, Information Services, Durham County Council; Jane Brown, search room archivist, National Archives of Scotland; Dr. Joan Thirsk; Mrs. Peter Joy; Flick Rohde; Francis Edwards, SJ; Michael Fry; Mr. and Mrs. Harold Smith; Albert Loomie, SJ; Jonathan Foyle; Mrs. H. W. G. de Capell Brooke for her translation of Henry Wotton; Giles Quarme for his advice on Theobalds; James Lowther for his information concerning his home, Holdenby House; Robin Brackenbury for information on Holmes Pierrepoint Hall; Brenda Tew; Dr. Paul Davenport and Dr. Sharon Mitchell for their medical insights into the possible causes of Elizabeth’s death.
Thank you also to Peter Borland at Ballantine, who bought my book in the United States, and to Susanna Porter, who looked after me subsequently. Throughout I have enjoyed great support from my U.K. editor, Arabella Pike, who is always encouraging, helpful and enthusiastic, offering astute advice. My friend Henrietta Joy read and commented on my earliest chapters with wit and insight. My husband, Peter, was remarkably patient about sharing me with people who have been dead for centuries. Thanks to Kate Johnson for her patient editing. Finally, thank you to my agent, Georgina Capel, who saw me through hiccups of wild optimism and troughs of black despair like mother, father, nanny and friend rolled into one.
GENEALOGY
THE DESCENDANTS OF HENRY VII · xx-xxi
THE ROYAL HOUSES OF PORTUGAL AND SPAIN · xxii-xxiii
THE HOUSE OF TALBOT · xxiv
THE HOUSE OF CAVENDISH · xxv
PART ONE
There are more that look, as it is said, to the rising than to the setting sun.
—ELIZABETH I
CHAPTER ONE
“THE WORLD WAXED OLD” The Twilight of the Tudor Dynasty
Sir John Harington arrived at Whitehall in December 1602 in time for the twelve-day Christmas celebrations at court. The coming winter season was expected to be a dull one, though the new Comptroller of the Household, Sir Edward Wotton, was trying his best to inject fresh life into it. Dressed from head to toe in white, he had laid on dances, bear baiting, plays and gambling. The Secretary of State, Sir Robert Cecil, lost up to £800 a night—an astonishing sum, even for one who, according to popular verse, ruled “court and crown.” Behind the scenes, however, courtiers gambled for still higher stakes. Harington observed that Elizabeth I, the last of the Tudors, was sixty-nine and although she appeared in sound health, “age itself is a sickness.”1 She could not live forever, and after her reign of forty-four years the country was on the eve of change.
To Elizabeth, Harington was “that witty fellow my godson.” Courtiers knew him for his invention of the water closet, his translations of classical works, his scurrilous writings on court figures and his mastery of the epigram, which was then the fashionable medium for comment on court life. In the competition for Elizabeth’s favor, however, courtiers were expected to reflect her greatness not only in learning and wit but also in their visual magnificence. They did so by dressing in clothes “more sumptuous than the proudest Persian.” A miniature depicts Harington as a smiling man in a cut silk doublet and ruff, his long hair brushed back to show off a jeweled earring that hangs to his shoulder. Even a courtier’s plainest suits were worn with beaver hats and the finest linen shirts, gilded daggers and swords, silk garters and show roses, silk stockings and cloaks.2
This brilliant world was a small one, though riven by scheming and distrust. “Those who live in courts, must mark what they say,” one of Harington’s epigrams warned. “Who lives for ease had better live away.”3 Harington, typically, knew everyone at Whitehall that Christmas, either directly or through friends and relations.4 Elizabeth herself was particularly close to the grandchildren of her aunt Mary Boleyn, a group known enviously as “the tribe of Dan.” The eldest, Lord Hunsdon, was the Lord Chamberlain, responsible for the conduct of the court. His sisters, the Countess of No
ttingham and Lady Scrope, were Elizabeth’s most favored Ladies of the Privy Chamber. But Harington also had royal connections, albeit at one remove. His estate at Kelston in Somerset had been granted to his father’s first wife, Ethelreda, an illegitimate daughter of Henry VIII. When Ethelreda died childless the land had passed to John Harington senior. He remained loyal to Elizabeth when she was imprisoned following a Protestant-backed revolt against her Catholic sister Mary I, named after one of its leaders as Wyatt’s revolt, and when Elizabeth became Queen she rewarded him with office and fortune, making his second wife, Harington’s mother, Isabella Markham, a Lady of the Privy Chamber. It was the hope of acquiring such wealth and honor that was the chief attraction of the court.
Harington once described the court as “ambition’s puffball”—a toadstool that fed on vanity and greed—but it was one that had been carefully cultivated by the Tudor monarchy. With no standing army or paid bureaucracy to enforce their will, the monarchy had to rely on persuasion. They used Arthurian mythology and courtly displays to capture hearts, while patronage appealed to the more down-to-earth instincts of personal ambition. Elizabeth could grant her powerful subjects the prestige that came with titles and orders, and the influence conferred by office in the Church, the military, the administration of government and the law; there were also posts at court or in the royal household. She could bestow wealth with leases on royal lands and palaces, offer special trading licenses and monopolies or bequeath the ownership of estates confiscated from traitors.5 Those who gained most from Elizabeth’s patronage were themselves patrons, acting as conduits for the Queen’s munificence.
Harington and his friends worked hard to ingratiate themselves with the great men at court, often spending years, as he complained, in “grinning scoff, watching nights and fawning days.”6 When a great patron fell from grace a decade of personal and financial investment could be lost. The precise standing of all senior courtiers was therefore tracked and discussed by gossips and intelligencers. Every tiny fluctuation in their fortunes stoked what one observer described as “the court fever of hope and fear that continuously torments those that depend upon great men and their promises.”7 The “fever” reached a pitch when the health of the monarch was a cause for concern since her death could mean a complete revolution in government.