Her hair was of a colour never made by nature and she wore great pearls like pears round the forehead. She had a coif arched round her head and an imperial crown, and displayed a vast quantity of gems and pearls upon her person; even under her stomacher she was covered with golden jewelled girdles and single gems, carbuncles, balas-rubies, diamonds; round her wrists in place of bracelets she wore double rows of pearls of more than medium size.6
Scaramelli cut a severe figure as he knelt down to kiss Elizabeth’s robe. Venetians covered their suits with a “black cloth gown buttoned close at the neck” and kept their hair short.7 Elizabeth raised him, extended her right hand to be kissed and welcomed him with the comment that it was “high time that the Republic sent to visit a queen who has always honoured it on every possible occasion.” Scaramelli congratulated Elizabeth on her health and assured her that the entire Serene Republic wished her every prosperity and satisfaction. Then it was down to business.8
Scaramelli had with him a letter concerning the Serene Republic’s latest tribulations at the hands of a pirate, William Piers of Portsmouth. Piers was in his early twenties and captained a stocky man-of-war of medium tonnage, with twenty or thirty guns and a crew of around sixty men. Piers had recently attacked the Venetian ship the Veniera and had captured booty worth around 100,000 ducats. There were no Venetian galleys able to follow in pursuit of Piers because the crews were infected with what the Provveditore at Zante, Piero Bonumier, described as “repulsive diseases.” Bonumier had therefore applied to three English ships in the area for help. Their commanders refused, claiming that their merchantmen were unsuited to the task, so the Veniera’s crew hired a vessel to go after Piers themselves. They then encountered another English pirate who stole everything that Piers had left them.9 The whole farce had “greatly annoyed” the Senate and Scaramelli handed Elizabeth the letter asking that Piers “or others who commit such villainous deeds” be punished and their booty restored to their rightful owners as soon as possible.
Elizabeth, now seated, passed the Senate’s letter to Cecil. Only weeks earlier Cecil had personally invited Ralegh and Cobham to join a new pirate venture against Venice, one he hoped would raise ready cash and keep Ralegh away from court as he prepared their ship, the Fortune, for sea. Cecil opened the Senate’s letter in silence before passing it back to the Queen. Elizabeth then read it and as she returned it to her secretary, she rose again to her feet. Her expression, which had been up to now “almost smiling,” was grave. “I cannot help feeling that the Republic of Venice, during the forty-four years of my reign, has never made herself heard by me except to ask for something,” she pronounced. To Scaramelli’s relief, however, her bitter words concluded with a promise: “As the question touches my subjects . . . I will appoint Commissioners who shall confer with you and report to me, and I will do all that in me lies to give satisfaction to the Serene Republic, for I would not be discourteous.”10 Scaramelli departed Richmond Palace into icy rain, happy with what he had achieved. But he knew that the Queen’s word would hold good only for as long as she lived.
A few days after Scaramelli’s audience, a small but significant event took place at Richmond Palace: the ring Elizabeth had worn since her coronation, with which she been “married to this kingdom,” was filed from her finger, where it had grown into her flesh. The news of the ring’s removal was received as an omen, “as if it portended that her marriage with the kingdom, contracted by the ring, would now be dissolved.” 11 A state of acute anxiety took hold at court and, as at all times of threat, Catholics encountered renewed hostility.
On 17 February a priest called Anderson, betrayed by another as having been friendly with the Jesuits, was tried and executed at Tyburn. The Catholic spy Anthony Rivers reported that Anderson had “prayed for the Queen and showed great courage, yet with mildness and discretion; many pitying him and inveighing against the cruelty of the Lord Chief Justice for he had not a day’s liberty to provide for his death, as even common thieves have.” Rivers added in a separate letter that the Chief Justice “would have put more to death at Bury but the Queen forbad it.”12
Many were by now convinced that the mysterious business of Arbella’s plot to marry Edward Seymour had been an attempt on the throne. Although Cecil had assured James that this was not the case, the truth was that he himself remained uncertain. The news and details of Arbella’s escape venture first reached Cecil on 31 December 1602. His old ally, the Earl of Hertford, had sent to him in London, under guard, a long-serving servant to Arbella’s grandmother, Bess Shrewsbury. It transpired that this man, John Dodderidge, had appeared at the Earl’s house in Tottenham the previous day, asking to see the Earl alone. Hertford, suspecting that it might concern his grandson, insisted that he come to the public dining room. There the kneeling servant delivered a message from Arbella. It referred to the previous interest Hertford had shown in a possible Stuart-Seymour marriage and described a plan that would enable her to marry his grandson in secret.
Arbella proposed that Seymour should come to Hardwick Hall disguised as the son or nephew of “some ancient grave man” who wished to sell the Countess land or borrow money from her: “if they come like themselves they shall be shut out of the gates, I locked up, my grandmother will be the first shall advertise and complain to the Queen.” Since Arbella had never met Seymour she asked that he was to bring, by way of identification, “some picture or handwriting of the Lady Jane Grey whose hand I know. She sent her sister a book at her death which were the very best they could bring.” 13 The book Arbella referred to was a Greek testament inscribed with the last thoughts of “Queen Jane” on the eve of her execution half a century before. The dying Edward VI had left Jane Grey the crown in a failed attempt to prevent the accession of his Catholic sister Mary I or Elizabeth, whom he suspected would not usurp Mary’s place. After Jane was overthrown she was placed in the Tower and following Wyatt’s revolt Mary ordered her beheading. The doomed girl had tried to comfort her fourteen-year-old sister, Katherine—Seymour’s grandmother— assuring her that she was going to immortal happiness before bidding her farewell: “Your loving sister . . .” She faced her executioner only hours later.
Jane’s book was a grim reminder of the possible fate of those with ambitions for the crown, and Hertford, “mightily distasting and disliking, grew impatient” with Dodderidge. He told the servant to write down everything he knew and warned that he was “to prepare himself for punishment.” The next day, still terrified, Dodderidge confessed again to Cecil.
Dodderidge was fond of Arbella, whom he had known since her childhood, and he described how she had spent three weeks working to persuade him to carry her message. First she had told him that Hertford had sounded out a relative of hers, one David Owen Tudor, on a possible marriage between Seymour and herself. She asked him to take a message in response to this suggestion to Hertford’s lawyer, Mr. Kyrton. Seeing Dodderidge hesitate, she changed her mind and requested he go to Hertford’s house in Tottenham. She assured him that he would be welcomed and that her Cavendish uncles supported her plans. He had left Hardwick on Christmas Day, riding a horse borrowed from Arbella’s eldest uncle, Henry Cavendish, who lived near Hardwick at Chatsworth.
Cecil was aware there was a revived interest in Arbella’s candidature in Europe and a close watch had been put on the young Earl of Arundel, who had been suggested to the Pope as a possible spouse for Arbella. He was also aware of reports the previous autumn that there was a group of courtiers interested in placing Arbella and Edward Seymour on the throne: the letter the spy Rivers had written describing what he had heard had been intercepted. But since the Earl of Hertford had given up any idea of a possible marriage between Arbella and his grandson, no extra security had been considered necessary for him. If there was a serious conspiracy to marry Arbella to Seymour, Cecil knew, it would have to be backed by another nobleman. The obvious name was that of Gilbert Shrewsbury, whose wife was Arbella’s aunt Mary Cavendish. Lady Shrewsbury was a Catholic conv
ert who might have persuaded Arbella to promise toleration of religion in exchange for Catholic support for her marriage. She was also a friend of Lady Ralegh, whose husband was likely to be interested in a Seymour-Stuart match.14
The intelligence gatherer Thomas Phelipps had noted in 1600 that Ralegh supported the choice of a Seymour candidate, “seeing Essex leans to the Scot.”15 There was no reason for him to have changed his view since he had fallen out with Cecil, who in turn now supported James. But whatever Ralegh’s inclinations, Shrewsbury was a Privy Councilor, well placed to earn James’s gratitude for his support, and he had a lot to lose by taking the risk of backing his niece. Sir John Harington, who knew the Shrewsburys well, had assured James in his Tract, “It is least likely that when it comes to trial they will hazard so great estates, so contented lives, so gentlemanly pleasures, so sweet studies, to advance their niece against law, reason, probability, yea possibility.” 16 Cecil took the same view and it was apparent that Dodderidge could name only Owen Tudor, a family chaplain called James Starkey and Arbella’s Cavendish uncles as having helped her. Furthermore, Dodderidge admitted he had not discussed anything with her uncles himself. The only evidence was the loan of Henry’s horse and Cecil knew that Henry was quite capable of deciding to help Arbella for no better reason than to annoy his mother. The dowager Countess had engaged Henry in a deeply unhappy marriage to Shrewsbury’s sister, Grace Talbot, and he had never forgiven her for it.
To find out exactly who was behind Arbella’s attempt Cecil picked the Queen’s Commissioner, Sir Henry Brouncker, to interview her. Brouncker had entrusted the care of his family to Cecil eight months earlier when he had thought he was dying “with the stone.” He could be relied on to be discreet about anything that emerged about earlier approaches to Owen Tudor. The Queen briefed Brouncker personally before he left Whitehall and three and a half days later, on 4 January, he arrived at Hardwick. Arbella’s grandmother had no idea of what had happened. Horrified by the sketchy outline she was given, she promptly agreed to Brouncker’s request to interview Arbella. Brouncker warned the terrified Arbella that the time had come to confess all and ask forgiveness: “I . . . demanded whether she had had no late intelligence with the Earl of Hertford or employed any man to him.” Flushing, she denied everything. Brouncker advised her again to tell the truth. When she continued to lie he pulled from his pocket a confession signed by John Dodderidge.17
Arbella told Brouncker angrily that the servant must have gone to see Hertford of his own volition. He was a “bold, lewd fellow” and would do anything for gain. Brouncker ignored her comments and insisted she must tell him “who was the first mover of this marriage.” Arbella, realizing that she had to concede something, told Brouncker that it was “a man of the Earl of Hertford’s to one Owen Tudor, servant to my grandmother.” Brouncker retorted, “That was moved long since, but I desired to know how it was lately renewed.” At this Arbella became so distressed that her replies were at first incomprehensible. Eventually, however, she corroborated Dodderidge’s account, “saving that she faintly denied that her uncles were acquainted with the matter.” She promised Brouncker that she would write everything down if he would “promise to conceal it from her grandmother.”18 The sharp-tongued Bess Shrewsbury held more fears for Arbella than even the Queen, who could have had her life.
Brouncker was now convinced that Arbella was the tool of others. After leaving Hardwick he took his horse and explored the area around the estate. He noticed a number of gentlemen who did not live locally, including Mary Shrewsbury’s servant Mr. Hacker, Henry Cavendish and a Catholic gentleman he simply referred to as Stapleton from Yorkshire—most likely Richard Stapleton, the recusant Catholic husband of Arbella’s first cousin Elizabeth Pierrepont.19 It was his presence that concerned Brouncker the most and he advised Cecil that Owen Tudor should be interviewed to find out more.
Cecil’s network of contacts soon tracked Owen Tudor to Anglesey. Owen Tudor was the elder of two brothers, the younger of whom was fighting for the Spanish. He told Cecil’s men that Hugh Owen, a brother-in-law of the traitor, the eighth Earl of Northumberland, had raised the subject of Arbella marrying Edward Seymour many years before. He thought that his own son, who was now working as Arbella’s page, might have told her some of the details. Dodderidge had also named James Starkey as someone willing to help Arbella and he too was interviewed. What emerged was a picture of a lonely and deeply unhappy young woman. Arbella had spent the prime of her life, from eighteen to twenty-eight, in the Derbyshire countryside. From 1597, when she was twenty-three, she lived at her grandmother’s new home, Hardwick Hall, which still stands “more glass than wall.” Bess was by then looking for immortality in the descendants of her sons and the houses she had built, not in founding some royal dynasty. She topped Hardwick with her initials, “ES,” for Elizabeth Shrewsbury, but Arbella, educated to rule a kingdom, did not even have a bedroom she could call her own. Too young, her life was one of memories: her time at court and the stories she had heard about the secret marriage of Katherine Grey to the Earl of Hertford, as well as that of her parents. They had become an obsession.
A turning point had come the previous spring. Arbella had been led to believe she was going to be invited to meet the Duke of Nevers, a French nobleman of royal blood who was coming to court at Easter. The rumors were that he hoped to marry her, but in the event his visit had been a short one and she had spent another Easter at Hardwick. Starkey had often found her crying over her books and she asked him to help her leave Hardwick. He refused, but he did agree to carry out some of her requests.
Arbella had told Starkey she was frightened that her grandmother would take her jewels, and once tearfully gave him a key and asked him to look after a valuable pearl that belonged to her. She told him she had already sent most of her jewels to Yorkshire—the home of Elizabeth Pierrepont and Richard Stapleton.20 But although the Stapleton connection was troubling, the Starkey interview, like the others, had only linked Arbella’s action with members of her family and a few servants. Cecil judged that it was therefore safest to leave her in the care of her grandmother—safer, certainly, than placing her in the Tower, where her presence might attract a little too much interest. But Bess Shrewsbury wanted nothing more to do with Arbella and begged Cecil and the Vice Chamberlain, Sir John Stanhope, to take her granddaughter off her hands. They refused and so Bess put Arbella under close watch: she was allowed no choice in the company she kept or the things she did, her letters were intercepted, and her angry grandmother would regularly pinch her nose and abuse her.
Arbella’s letters to Brouncker asked bitterly “if the running on of years be not discerned in me only,” that she should be treated worse than an infant.21 When her complaints were ignored she went on a hunger strike, refusing to eat until she was moved from Hardwick. By the second week of February 1603 she was obviously unwell and “enforced to take much phisick.”22 In this weakened state she heard some grim news. Starkey had been unable to bear the shame and terror of the interviews and early in February he had hanged himself. Arbella was so distressed by his death that Bess finally agreed to move her to the house of her uncle William Cavendish, who lived at nearby Owlcotes, on condition that she start eating again.
At court, meanwhile, the news of Starkey’s suicide fueled the speculation that someone was making an attempt to put Arbella on the throne. Indeed, the rumors had reached the Venetian ambassador, Scaramelli, who had written to the Senate describing the relative strengths of James and Arbella’s claims, how they were perceived and where their support lay.
James was known to be clever, extravagant and ambitious to the point, Scaramelli wrote, “that his ambition helps him to swallow the shedding of his mother’s blood.” It was widely said he would grant toleration of religion when he was crowned, but Scaramelli judged that James’s most significant support came from Elizabeth’s Privy Council. It was clear that they were not prepared to see another woman crowned and it was noted that Cecil had alr
eady made moves to secure James’s route south—making his elder brother, Thomas Cecil (since his father’s death Lord Burghley), President of the North as well as placing people James trusted “as governors of all the strong places in those parts.” There was, however, much talk about the legal objections to James’s candidature: “first that he was not born in the kingdom and is therefore ineligible for the crown; and the second, that his mother, after her execution was declared a rebel by Parliament, and incapable of succession, and this incapacitates her son.” These impediments, Scaramelli explained to the Senate, made Arbella (or “Arabella,” as Scaramelli called her in the Italian manner) a serious candidate.
The Venetian had learned from courtiers that Arbella was “of great beauty and remarkable qualities, being gifted with many accomplishments, among them the knowledge of Latin, French, Spanish and Italian, besides her native English.” She, like James, he wrote, was raised in the belief that she would succeed to the crown, but she had been forced to live in relative poverty, far from London.23 Many courtiers seemed to believe that Spain was behind Arbella’s attempted marriage to Seymour, and Scaramelli reported that Starkey had “killed himself because of his intrigues.” 24 The Queen was said to be deeply distressed by Arbella’s recent actions and it was even being suggested that Arbella might lose her head.
By the third week of February Elizabeth had sunk into the same state of depression and paranoia that Harington had found her in at Christmas—and once more it expressed itself in matters concerning Ireland.
After Elizabeth Page 11
