My Enemy, the Queen (14 page)

She had wept. Her Sweet Robin must not fret. She commanded him to get well, for she could not lose him. I could imagine the looks which would pass between them. Of course he would live. Hadn he always obeyed her commands?

How typical it was of our sovereign lady that she should forgive Robert while at the same time she sent for Norfolk. The Duke was arrested and sent to the Tower.

We all believed that Norfolk would lose his head, but the Queen seemed reluctant to sign the death warrant. Following her usual line in such cases, she prevaricated and in due course Norfolk was released, though he must live in restraint on his estates. But he was a man who seemed determined on self-destruction. It had been said that the very name of the Queen of Scots exerted a terrible fascination. Perhaps it was so, for Norfolk had not seen her. Perhaps he was intrigued by a queen who had committed adultery and was suspected of murder. It was difficult to say, but the fact remained that Norfolk was soon involved in the Ridolfi plot.

Ridolfi was a Florentine banker who had a plan to capture Elizabeth, set Mary on the throne after marrying her to Norfolk, and bring Catholicism back to England. The plot was doomed to fail. Several agents were caught and tortured, and in a short time Norfolk involvement was revealed. There was no hope for him then. William Cecil, now Lord Burleigh, pointed out to the Queen that Norfolk could no longer be allowed to live; and in this he was supported by the Privy Council and the House of Commons.

Once again the Queen shrank from signing the death warrant. She was so distressed that she became ill with one of her mysterious disorders which resulted in what she called heavy and vehement pains. These pains could have been attributed to poison and, in view of the fact that the Ridolfi plot had just been uncovered, there was fear that the Queen life might be in danger. But it turned out to be merely another of those illnesses which attacked her when something unpleasant had to be done. I used to wonder whether, when a death warrant was presented to her, she thought of her mother and the memory upset her. The fact remained that she was reluctant to kill, even when she herself had been put in danger.

Her ministers thought that here was a good case for ridding herself of Mary Queen of Scots, who was implicated in the plot; but this she refused to consider.

Eventually, however, the Duke of Norfolk death warrant was signed, and a special scaffold was erected on Tower Hill, for since the Queen accession there had been no beheadings there and a new one was required.

All this happened during the years of my exile.

Walter had gone to Ireland full of plans for colonizing Ulster, but in less than a year he was having to confess to failure. He did not give up, however, and after returning to England for a while to consult with the Queen and her ministers he went back to try again.

He would have liked me to accompany him, but I pleaded that the children needed me. I had no intention of going to that wild country and enduring all kinds of discomfort. I was almost certain, too, that the expedition would be a failure, as most things Walter undertook would in time prove to be.

I was glad that I had stood firmly against going, for it was while Walter was in Ireland that the Queen intimated that I might return to Court.

I was filled with a wild excitement. My son Robert was eight at the time and Walter six; the girls were growing up but still not of an age to make it necessary to find husbands for them.

A spell at Court was just what I needed.

So I found myself at the Kenilworth revels and at the beginning of a new and exciting life. I was no longer young, being in my thirty-fourth year, and at Chartley I had begun to feel that life was passing me by.

Perhaps that was why I plunged so recklessly into the richness which fate threw at me during the following years, with little thought of where it would lead me. My banishment had lasted too long, but it had at least shown me that I could never forget Robert Dudley and that my relationship with the Queen added to the flavor of my life without which it would have been insipid.

There were two things I wantedy passionate life with Robert and my battle for superiority with the Queennd I wanted them desperately. Having tasted them once, I could not be satisfied to live without them and I was ready to face any consequences to get them. I had to prove to myself and to Robertnd perhaps one day to the Queen herselfhat my physical attractions were irresistible to himar more so than the Queen royalty.

I was heading for a dangerous road. I did not care. I was reckless, eager for life, and was convinced I knew how to find what I wanted.

Kenilworth

Kenilworth where he [Leicester] lodged the Queen and her ladies, forty earls and seventy other principal milords, all under the roof of his own castle, for the space of twelve days… .

De La Mothe Fenelon, the French Ambassador

the clok bell sank not a note all the while her Highness waz thear; the clok stood also withal, the hands of both the tablz stood firm and fast, always pointing at two olock.

The fireworks were a blaze of burning darts, flying to and fro streams and hails of fiery sparks, lightening of wildfire awater and aland.

Robert Laneham on the revels at Kenilworth

I was to join the Queen at Greenwich and as my barge carried me along the river I was overwhelmed by the excitement and bustle of London life and the fact that I was coming back to it. The river was, as ever, the busiest of the country thoroughfares. Craft of all description was sailing along in the direction of the palace. The Lord Mayor gilded barge was among them, escorted by the less glorious vessels of his officials. The watermen in their livery and silver badges rowed skillfully among the more cumbersome barges, whistling and singing, calling pleasantries to each other. In one was a girl who might have been a boatman daughter; she was strumming at a lute and singing,

ow thy boat, Normana song which had been sung for more than a hundred yearsn a powerful but somehow raucous voice to the delight of the occupants of passing boats. It was a scene typical of London river.

I felt in turns exultant and apprehensive. Whatever happened, I warned myself, I must not be banished again. I must guard my tongueut not too much perhaps, for the Queen liked the occasional caustic remark. I would be watched with regard to her favorite meneople like Heneage, Hatton and the Earl of Oxford nd most of all the Earl of Leicester.

I was telling myself I must have changed in eight years, but I fancied it was not for the worse. I was more mature naturally. I had borne several children, but I knew that men found me more attractive than ever. One thing I was determined on. I should not allow myself to be picked up and dropped as I had been before. Of course, I kept reminding myself, he would only have behaved as he did because of the Queen. There was not another woman who could have displaced me for herself alone. Still, my feminine vanity had been wounded and in futuref there was a future with Robert would let him know that I had no intention of allowing it to happen again.

It was spring and the Queen had come to Greenwich, which she liked to do at this time of the year to enjoy the delightful situation there. Everything had been freshened for her arrival; and in the quarters of the ladies attendant on her I was greeted by Kate Carey, Lady Howard of Effingham; Anne, Lady Warwick; and Catharine, Countess of Huntingdon. Kate was my mother sister and cousin to the Queen; Anne was the wife of Robert brother Ambrose; and Catharine was Robert sister.

Aunt Kate embraced me, told me I was looking in good health and that she was glad to see me back at Court.

ou have escaped so long,said Anne with a little grimace.

he has been with her family and now has a goodly one to show for those years away from Court,said Aunt Kate.

he Queen talked of you now and then,put in Catharine. id she not, Anne?

Tis true that she did. She once said that as a young girl you were one of the prettiest she had ever had at her Court. She likes good-looking people about her.

he liked me so well that she dispensed with me for eight years,I reminded them.

he thought your husband had need of you and she did not wish to deprive him.

o now she sends him to Ireland?

ou should have gone with him, Lettice,said my aunt. t not good to let husbands rove too far away.

h, Walter is welcome to his diversions.

Catharine laughed, but the other two looked grave.

ettice my dear,said Kate, very much the wise aunt, o not let Her Majesty hear you talk like that. She dislikes flippancy regarding the married state.

t is strange having such a respect for it that she is so reluctant to enter into it herself.

here are matters beyond our knowledge,said my aunt primly. he will see you tomorrow at supper when you will be one of the lady tasters. I doubt not that she will have a word with you during the meal. You know how she is ever ready to dispense with ceremony at the table.

I knew my aunt was warning me to take care. I had been banished from the Court for a number of years, which meant that I had without doubt offended the Queen in some way, for she was notoriously lenient with her relativesarticularly those on the Boleyn side. She would be a little sterner with the Tudor ones because she had to be watchful of them, but the Boleyns, having no claim in the throne, were grateful to her for raising them up, and she loved to honor them.

I could scarcely sleep that night, so excited was I to be back at Court. I knew that sooner or later I was going to come face to face with Robert. As soon as we met I should know whether I still attracted him, and then it would be my joy to discover how much and whether he was prepared to take further risks for me. On one thing I had made up my mind: No more quick embraces and then goodbye because the Queen would not tolerate his affection for another woman.

t will have to be something better this time, Robert,I murmured to myself. lways supposing that you still find me desirable and of course that I feel the same irresistible urge to take you as my lover.

Although it was a sleepless night, what joy it was to lie on my pallet and contemplate the future. How had I endured those barren years oh, but not quite barren. I had the children . my own adorable Robert. I could leave him without compunction, for he was well cared for, and boys, when they passed out of babyhood, became impatient of a fond and doting mother beside them. He would always be there, my beloved boy, and when he grew older he could count on his mother as his very good friend.

As it was Sunday there was a great attendance at the palace. The Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, the Chancellor, officers of the crown and other gentlemen had all come to pay their respects to the Queen. She would receive them in the Presence Chamber, which was hung with rich tapestry, and the floor would have been covered with fresh rushes.

People had assembled to watch the procession, which was really impressive. The Queen liked them to be given freedom to see all the pomp. Having come to her present high eminence by cautiously considering the will of the people, she was always especially eager to please them; when she rode among them she would speak even to the humblest; she wanted them to realize that although she was a glorious being, a divinity on earth, she loved the people and was in a way their servant. It was one of the secrets of her great popularity.

I watched the earls, Knights of the Garter and barons enter, and then came the Chancellor walking between two guards, one of whom carried the royal scepter and the other the sword of state in a red scabbard which was studded with fleurs-de-lis. The Queen followed immediately afterwards, but I could not stay to see her as I had to be at my duties.

The preparation of the table always amused me. No sacred rite could have been performed with more reverence. I and a young countess were the tasters on this morning, for it was a tradition that one taster must be unmarried and the other marriednd both of high rank.

First a gentleman appeared holding a rod and behind him came a man carrying the tablecloth; following him came others with the saltcellar, platter and bread. I could scarcely repress a smile as they knelt before the empty table before placing these things on it.

Then it was our turn. We approached the table, I carrying the tasting knife. We both took bread and salt and rubbed it into the plates to make sure they were clean; and when we had finished these tasks the dishes were brought in. I took the knife and cut portions which I gave to several of the guards who had been standing looking on. They ate what I gave them. This ceremony was to safeguard the Queen from poison.

When they had finished eating, the trumpets were sounded, the two men with kettledrums came in and played their instruments to let it be known that the meal was ready.

The Queen would not sit in the main hall but would take her food in a small adjoining chamber. I presumed that she would summon me to her side while she was eating.

I was right. In due course she arrived. We took the food she wanted into a small chamber, and there she bade me welcome back to Court and told me that I might sit beside her.

I expressed myself overwhelmed by the honor and she looked at me searchingly. I longed to examine more closely what the years had done to her, but for that I must wait.

a,she said. he country does good to you, and so does childbearing. Two sons, I believe, I shall see them one day, I trust.

our Majesty has but to express the command,I replied, stating the obvious.

She nodded. uch has happened since you were at Court. I miss my dear cousin, your mother, sadly.

our Majesty was always good to her. Often she told me so.

Was it really a tear I saw in the tawny eyes? It might be, for she was sentimental about those who she believed had been her true friends, and my mother had undoubtedly been one of them.

he was too young to die.It was almost a reproach. To my mother for leaving her? To God for taking her and causing sorrow to the Queen? atherine Knollys, how dare you leave your sovereign, who had need of you!ord, why did You have to take this good servant from me?I almost gave voice to these thoughts. Guard your tongue, I warned myself. But it was not my tongue which had brought about my exile. Indeed, Her Majesty, who spent her life among sycophants, had on occasions liked it.