Cor Rotto: A novel of Catherine Carey (27 page)

A conference was held at York in the autumn to determine the Scottish queen’s culpability in the murder of her husband Lord Darnley. A casket of letters and poems was unearthed among the abandoned belongings of the Earl of Bothwell and the content of them seemed to prove that Mary had been urging the earl on in his violent plan.

Elizabeth learned of these letters soon after Mary’s abdication, but it was at the conference with the Duke of Norfolk in York that the Earl of Moray finally produced them. After much debate over their authenticity, it was decided that nothing could be proved until they were compared with Elizabeth’s personal letters from Mary at Westminster.

The Earl of Moray arrived at Westminster the first week of December to present the letters to the Privy Council. The court had, by this time, moved to Hampton Court Palace for the Christmas festivities.

I hoped that Francis would be allowed to return home for the celebrations. Until the Scottish queen’s guilt in his husband’s death was settled, there was no real reason that Francis could not leave. He had completed his task in welcoming Mary and transferring her to Bolton. His report on her character was already received by Secretary Cecil. The only thing keeping him from a speedy return to London was Elizabeth.

“Catherine, I need Francis at Bolton. He is the only man I trust to serve me in regards to that woman,” Elizabeth insisted.

She had her hands raised in the air waiting for me to drop her linen night shirt over her head. I tugged gently on the fabric, trying hard to avoid catching her hair. She still retained her slim youthful figure and I eyed with envy the way that the fabric laid across her narrow hips.

I stayed behind her and spoke as I plaited her hair. I knew better than to make eye contact when challenging Elizabeth. I would inevitably lose my nerve.

“Surely Lord Scrope is capable enough,” I replied lightly. I did not want Elizabeth to think I was directly questioning her authority. “It would be wonderful to have Francis home for Christmas.”

Elizabeth turned around. Her face was calm and her voice was steady. “Catherine, I cannot risk it. Mary is known for her abilities to charm men to doing their bidding. I cannot depend on Lord Scrope to avoid her seductions. Your husband is incorruptible. He has the most integrity of any courtier that has ever served me and, most importantly, he loves you. He would never allow Mary to compromise his faithfulness.”

I understood her position and I realised then that convincing her to change her mind would be fruitless. I nodded that I understood and reached out to pull the curtains open on her tester bed. As she crawled under the covers she muttered, “You really should take it as a compliment.”

I participated as little as possible in the festivities leading up to Christmas. I felt melancholy at Francis’s absence and I missed my children. Lettice had still not forgiven me and Elizabeth was not ready to allow her back to court. Harry was spending Christmas at Bolton with his father. Bess and Anne would be here, but the rest of my children were to stay home at Greys.

On Christmas Eve, I invited my maid to take dinner with me in my bedchamber.

“My lady, this is far too much for me to eat. You will have to roll me out of your room on a cart!” Matilda exclaimed. Her eyes shone with excitement in the candlelight at the bounty on the table before her. Tiny silver plates of fig custard and marchpane garnished the savoury meat pie in the centre.

“Please, Matilda,” I laughed. “Eat as much as you like. Thank you for spending your Christmas with me.”

Matilda smiled at me and then she furrowed her brow. “Where are your beautiful daughters? I am certain I saw Lady Anne leaving your room earlier today.”

I leaned across the table for the wine and poured Matilda a generous cup.

“Matilda, you know very well that this is the most important time for the beautiful young girls of the court to be out in their finest gowns, making merry and dancing with every handsome young man that asks. I could not deny them that.” I gave her a sly wink. “They did offer, but I insisted that they partake in the banquet and masque.”

We ate until our bellies were full and then slipped leftover scraps to my little spaniel, Ginger. Afterwards, we relaxed in my cushioned chairs before the fire and lost ourselves in the stories of our youth. We roared with delight at silly escapades from our childhood and cried tenderly over the people who were no longer with us.

After Matilda told a particularly moving story about my mother’s generosity and compassion, I was moved to demonstrate my own.

“Matilda?” I asked after a quiet moment. “Are you still in love with Henry Knollys?”

The firelight danced across her wine-coloured cheeks and a look of longing came over her face.

“I never told you this, but when he returned from his mission in Germany a few years ago he proposed marriage. I denied him of course. Who was I to marry him? His sister-in-law is the daughter of a king and one of the queen’s closest companions. I was nothing but a maid. Besides, I could not leave you, especially after Dudley’s death. And I was afraid. I was afraid that you and Francis would be angry with me for my presumption.”

“Matilda, I could never be angry with you!” I cried. Inspired to action by her honesty, I leapt from my chair and ran to my dress cupboard. I threw open the doors and rummaged around for the pale blue brocade gown that I wore to Edward’s coronation. When I felt the familiar fabric brush my fingers, I giggled with glee.

I thrust the gown at Matilda. She stared at me, mouth agape.

“Matilda, I release you from my service.”

Her eyes widened. “I spoke out of turn – please don’t be angry with ...”

I stopped her. “Take this dress and go back to Greys. Henry will not be able to resist you. You go with my blessing.”

Matilda’s eyes shimmered with tears as she threw her arms around me.

“Go,” I whispered.

I felt my spirits rise at the sight of her scampering out the door.

The next morning I awoke to the same throbbing pain in my head that had plagued me in the summer. I blamed the wine from the evening before, but in the back of my mind a cold fear came creeping in. The bright winter sun streaming in through the windows intensified the pain and try as I might to urge myself out of bed I had no desire to emerge from the covers.

Bess and Anne came to visit. They regaled me with every detail of their wonderful evening. Anne tittered excitedly about Thomas West asking her to dance. She could hardly contain her glee when Bess reminded her that if the marriage negotiations were successful, one day she would be his baroness.

Though they worried about me, I pleaded my overconsumption of wine and shooed them off to enjoy the celebrations. I spent the rest of the evening in bed dozing off to the sounds of a crackling fire in the heart and to the comfort of my spaniel curled against back.

When I did not emerge from my chamber by 1
st
January, the queen paid me a visit. She fretted over my condition and sent her doctor to care for me. He prescribed bleeding and an awful concoction of herbs. The fever did not burn nearly as hot as before and abated after a few days under his care.

Elizabeth refused to leave me alone while I recovered and spent many evenings by my bed reading from the Gospels or reminiscing about her days at Hatfield. My guilt over Lettice’s betrayal with Robert Dudley was worsened when she told me how much she had enjoyed having my daughter with her while we hid away in the Low Countries and how she had hoped that one day Lettice would be her closest companion.

I wanted to rail against Dudley for causing such a breach between cousins, but I didn’t have the heart. He would be as miserable as they were, for neither was at liberty to freely give their love to him.

I received a moving letter from my own love just as I had begun to feel well enough to get out of bed.

My Dearest Catherine,

I have received word from Secretary Cecil that you are again ill with fever. I wrote back to him expressing my desire to return home, but once again I was refused. I shudder in anger at this mistreatment. I have performed every task that the queen has given me and yet she adamantly refuses to grant my small request.

I have decided that when I am finally allowed to return, I shall resign my post and return with you to our home at Greys where we can live a quiet life in the country. We may fall to poverty, but I do not care. I only want to be by your side.

I pray daily for your recovery and beg the Lord to spare you from your pain. I will think of you until you are in my arms again.

All of my love,

Francis

I fell asleep with Francis’s words clutched tightly to my breast. As I dreamt of my quiet life in the country with Francis, the fever returned to ravage my body. Elizabeth’s doctor ordered another bleeding, but the fever would not abate this time.

Elizabeth’s face was bathed in the pale moonlight. Her eyes were sunken in and hollow. She brightened at my stirring and immediately reached for my hand.

“Elizabeth,” I whispered.

“Yes, Catherine?”

The effort it took to speak pained me, but I swallowed hard and continued. “Please take care of my family. When Lettice does something that angers you, remember the love that I have for you and forgive her. Find places in your court for my sons, as they will have families to feed. Help Francis to find good men for our daughters.”

Elizabeth’s hand trembled in mine, but she put on a brave smile. “Don’t say such things, Catherine. You will recover from this fever just as you did before. I will always care for your family, but you will be here to make sure of it.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to remember the scents of life. The juniper in the rushes, the linen on my bed, the rosewater in Elizabeth’s hair. I took it all in one last time.

“Tell Francis that I will always love him and that I will be waiting for him,” I murmured faintly.

I felt Elizabeth’s lips on my cheek and heard her voice. “Yes, Catherine. You must wait for him.”

The orchards of Hever were in full bloom and the faces of the two little girls from my dream were finally clear to me. It was my mother and Anne, and they were calling my name.

THE END

Catherine Carey Knollys died on 15 January 1569 (new style dating) in her rooms at Hampton Court, where the court had retired to celebrate the holiday season. Elizabeth was inconsolable upon her death and, for a time, she worried her councillors with her refusal to even stomach food in her grief. The queen graciously funded a lavish funeral for her departed chief lady of the bedchamber and had her laid to rest in St. Edmund’s Chapel at Westminster Abbey.

There is a commemorative plaque in the Abbey that reads:

“The Right Honourable Lady
Catherine Knollys,
chief Lady of the Queen’s Majesty’s Bedchamber, and Wife to Sir
Francis Knollys,
Knight, Treasurer of Her Highnesses Household, departed this Life the Fifteenth of January, 1568, at
Hampton-Court,
and was honourably buried in the Floor of this Chapel.

This Lady
Knollys,
and the Lord
Hunsdon
her Brother, were the Children of
William Caree,
Esq; and of the Lady
Mary
his Wife, one of the Daughters and Heirs to
Thomas Bulleyne,
Earl of
Wiltshire
and
Ormonde;
which Lady
Mary
was Sister to
Anne
Queen of
England,
Wife to K.
Henry
the Eighth, Father and Mother to
Elizabeth
Queen of
England.”

Underneath is a Latin inscription which, when translated, reads:

“O, Francis, she who was thy wife, behold, Catherine Knolle lies dead under the chilly marble. I know well that she will never depart from thy soul, though dead. Whilst alive she was always loved by thee: living, she bore thee, her husband, sixteen children and was equally female and male (that is, both gentle and valiant). Would that she had lived many years with thee and thy wife was now an old lady. But God desired it not. But he willed that thou, O Catherine, should await thy husband in Heaven.”
*

Catherine’s husband Francis never remarried after her death. Though he would have been a very eligible bachelor in the Elizabethan court, he preferred to live out his final twenty-seven years as a widower.

An elaborate monument was erected at Rotherfield Greys by their son, William Knollys, with the effigies of seven sons, six daughters, and William’s wife. It still stands in the church today.

*Taken from the website of Westminster Abbey
http://www.westminster-abbey.org

I used Sally Varlow’s work “Sir Francis Knollys’ Latin Dictionary: New Evidence for Katherine Carey” to determine when Catherine and Francis’s children were born. It was a list found in Sir Francis’s personal dictionary and is held by a descendant of the family in a private collection.

Catherine Knollys: April 1524
Francis Knollys: 1511

Henry “Harry” Knollys: April 6, 1541
Mary Knollys: October 28, 1542
Lettice Knollys: November 8, 1543
William Knollys: March 23, 1545
Edward Knollys: October 12, 1546
Maude Knollys: March 19, 1548
Elizabeth Knollys: June 15, 1549
Robert Knollys: November 5, 1550
Richard Knollys: May 15, 1552
Francis Knollys: August 14, 1553
Anne Knollys: July 19, 1555
Thomas Knollys: January 28, 1558
Katheryn Knollys: October 21, 155
Dudley Knollys: May 9, 1562

I have always felt that it is the duty of a historical author to finish with a word to his/her readers regarding the authenticity of the history he/she portrays. While artistic license can make for very vivid imagery and often assist the reader in connecting with the protagonist, we must always remember that the people in our stories were real historical figures and deserve an honest assessment. Too often historical fiction writers have slandered the reputations of these long deceased people, no longer around to defend themselves. While I have taken license with certain events in my story, I have made every effort to keep the characterisations of these amazing people intact, and every change I have made has been in the realm of possibility, meaning that while there is no record of the event ever happening, it is not impossible for it to have occurred.

First and foremost, I would like to state that very little record of conversations between the people of the times exists, therefore most of the dialogue has come from my imagination. The same can be said for the letters from Elizabeth, Mary and Francis. I have referenced some of the wording in the
Cor Rotto
letter from Elizabeth, but it is not entirely incorporated. We do know that Francis almost always ended his letters with “Yours Assured”, but those have been almost exclusively dispatches to the queen’s council members and I have taken a far more personal tone in his letters to Catherine. The only pieces of dialogue that are purely authentic are the words spoken by Ridley and Latimer as they suffered at the stake.

The characters of Richard, Susannah and Matilda are creations of my imagination. I have found no record naming Catherine’s maids and it is possible that more than one served her at various points in her life, but, for simplicity’s sake, I have only included Matilda. Since Susannah is a fictional character, her ties to Kat Ashley are also fictional.

Throughout the story, Catherine attempts to come to terms with her parentage. I have chosen to portray her as the illegitimate daughter of Henry VIII, however not every historian would agree with that assessment. Whether or not Henry VIII fathered Catherine is still a contentious debate. While we have an exact birth date for her brother, Henry, we don’t actually have a birth date for Catherine. The best estimates put her date of birth in the spring of 1524. It has been estimated that Mary Boleyn’s affair with the king commenced in 1522 and continued, based on land grants made to William Carey, through to 1525. However, we must remember that Carey was a trusted courtier and it is possible that the land grants were given after the cessation of the affair. Catherine’s birth definitely falls within the timeline needed for the king to father her. However, Mary was, indeed, married during the time of this affair so Catherine’s lineage is not quite so cut and dry. We also do not know exactly how the affair started and the king only formally acknowledged the relationship with Mary once. Anything I have described regarding Mary’s relationship with him is pure conjecture.

Unless DNA testing is done, we will probably never know the truth, but in my own personal opinion, I have always believed that Henry VIII fathered Catherine. When Catherine’s portrait is compared to Elizabeth I’s, the similarities are striking and, when accompanied by the circumstantial evidence, I think a strong case can be made. However, it is not unknown for cousins to appear more alike than siblings and, certainly, Catherine and her family would have been heavily promoted by Elizabeth whether they were sisters or not. For further reading regarding Catherine’s parentage, I highly recommend any work by Anne Boleyn’s esteemed biographer Eric Ives.

In 1534, Mary was banished from the court for her marriage to William Stafford and resulting pregnancy. Anne was, by that time, queen and it was felt that Mary had brought dishonour to the Boleyn name by marrying a man of such low standing without royal permission. There is very little in the historical record regarding Mary and William Stafford until the death of Thomas Boleyn in 1539, when Mary came into her inheritance of Rochford Hall. There is absolutely no record of the child she was carrying in 1534. I have assumed that Mary returned to Calais with Stafford after her banishment, as it seems unlikely that she would be welcomed back to the family’s home at Hever. We know that Stafford was in Calais in 1539 because he is listed as someone who accompanied Anne of Cleves on her departure from Calais to England. It is possible that Catherine stayed at Hever until she was called to Court to wait on the new queen, but I have placed her with her mother and Stafford in Calais. Since there is no record of Mary and Stafford’s child, I have assumed that he or she was either miscarried or died at a very early age. For further reading on Mary Boleyn, I suggest Alison Weir’s biography.

I have tried to portray Lady Rochford in a far more sympathetic light than she is usually treated by historical fiction writers. Though she has been slandered for centuries for testifying against her brother and sister-in-law, we really don’t have any evidence of what she said in her testimony and anything that that has reported otherwise has come from very unreliable secondary sources. Her reasons for any testimony at all could be for a number of reasons, but it is unlikely that she would seek the destruction of the man who supported her. It is very likely, however, that she was under extreme psychological distress when interrogated by Thomas Cromwell. Her miscarriage is a complete work of fiction, serving only to make her more sympathetic. While regarded as fiction in this novel, it is safe to say that a pregnancy would certainly be possible. George and Jane Rochford were a co-habitating couple and there is absolutely no evidence of any distress or scandal in the marriage and while George was certainly a court flirt, there is no evidence that he was homosexual or that he engaged in extra-marital affairs. For more information on George and Jane Rochford, I suggest Clare Cherry and Claire Ridgway’s excellent biography
George Boleyn: Tudor Poet, Courtier & Diplomat
.

We do not have an exact timeline of the Knollys’ journey to the continent during Mary I’s reign, but we do have snippets of information regarding specific events. We have a letter from Calvin dated 20
th
November 1553 describing his visit from Francis and Henry Knollys (the son) and praising Henry’s “holy zeal”. There is no mention of Catherine or any other children and Catherine had only given birth in August so it is unlikely that Francis would have dragged her on such a long journey. Francis and his son would have joined either John á Lasco’s congregation, who sailed from Gravesend on 15
th
September 1553, or the Glastonbury Weavers, who left from Dover the next day. He resurfaces in June 1555, fulfilling his duties as Constable of Wallingford Castle. It is possible that he was conducting his affairs from across the Channel, but he must have returned at least by October 1554 as Catherine was pregnant with their daughter Anne by that month.

The next time the Knollys resurface on the continent is in Germany in June 1557 when Catherine and five of their children are recorded as living with a John Weller of London in Frankfurt. It is most likely that the children included would have been the five youngest, leaving the whereabouts of Henry, Mary, Lettice, William, Edward and Maude unknown. It can be safely assumed that Henry was continuing his education at Magdalen College, but the whereabouts of the rest can only be guessed. I have placed Lettice in the household of Elizabeth at Hatfield (some historians have posited this same theory), and William and Edward in the home of Ambrose Dudley as we do know that the Dudleys were very close friends of Francis. Ambrose’s home seems a likely place for them to stay during their parents’ exile. There is no adult record of Maude or Mary and no recorded marriages for either of them so, in my story, they died young. Their lifespans are still debated based on the monument constructed at the Knollys’ tomb.

While we have a record of Catherine being in the household of John Weller, I could find no record of Weller’s family other than the fact that he had five sons, so the names of his wife and children are entirely from my imagination. We do know that a man by the name of Thomas Knot was an acquaintance of Francis’s from his time at the University of Basel in 1556, so I have included him in the household. We also have a record of Henry Knollys (Francis’s brother) at Frankfurt and know that he stayed on after Francis and Catherine returned to England, until 1559.

There are several theories for why, exactly, Francis fled England during Mary’s reign, but I tend to believe, based on the evidence, that the original reason for his self-imposed exile was at the urging of William Cecil. There is evidence that Cecil sent Francis to scout out locations for English refugees and sought to strike a deal with the Protestant leaders across the Channel. If they would harbour these refugees, the refugees would, in turn, attend their new religious schools and become educated in the new religion. As the burnings ramped up during Mary’s reign, Francis’s reasons became more personal and he found it necessary to call his wife and children to these newly established settlements in Germany. Once Elizabeth came to the throne, they returned rather quickly. For more information regarding the migration of the exiles and their life on the continent, I recommend
Marian Exiles A Study in the Origins of Elizabethan Puritanism
by Christina Hallowell Garrett. It includes the most comprehensive records regarding this event.

The death of Amy Robsart Dudley is probably one of the most debated subjects in Elizabethan history and to this day, no historian has rendered a conclusive, provable verdict. For this reason I have kept the circumstances of her death muddled. However, I have kept the timeline of events leading up to and after her death intact. There is a wealth of references available on this subject and I suggest reading several of them for varying viewpoints.

The death of Perotine Massey has been recreated according to the evidence we have for it. There was indeed a woman of that name who was burned at the stake during her pregnancy. She did give birth to a son and the baby was tossed back into the fire by the bailiff. It is unclear whether either the woman or the queen’s agents were aware of her pregnancy.

The miniatures of Anne and Mary that I have described in the novel are not based on any in existence. The collection of these miniature portraits by the nobility is well-recorded and so it is more than likely that both Anne and Mary would have had these portraits made during their time at Court. There may actually be one or two of them in a museum or private collection, but we don’t have enough evidence to conclusively point to the identity of the sitters.

During Elizabeth’s bout with smallpox, the only woman recorded as serving her is Mary Sidney. The inclusion of Catherine during her illness is entirely fiction.

Fairly recently a debate has cropped up as to the identity of the painters Stephen van der Meulen and Stephen van Harwijk. I find this debate quite fascinating and have included it in my narrative. However, it is by no means settled and there is not enough evidence to determine if they are, in fact, the same person.

Henry Carey’s irritation over Elizabeth’s failure to name him as the Earl of Wiltshire comes much later than I have illustrated in my novel. It is said that when Elizabeth attempted to bestow the title upon him at his death, he refused stating that as she never found him worthy of the title in life, he would not be worthy of the title in his death. It is likely, though, that Henry harboured ill-will over the promotion of Robert Dudley as demonstrated by his plotting against him with other members of the nobility. And I am certain that his desire for the title of earl had long been simmering before his death in 1596 and could account for some of his aggrieved behaviour towards Elizabeth’s favourites.

The final point I leave you with regards the Knollys children. Anywhere from twelve to sixteen children have been attributed to the couple, but I have based my narrative on the Latin dictionary that was discovered in the private collection of a Knollys descendent. The inner cover reads exactly as I have described it in the text, only the spellings have been modernised. I have kept the dates of birth intact and because there is no mention of a child name Cecilia, I have not included her, though several other lists have included her. As to the naming of their children, it seems that most of them may have been named for family members and so I have included this in the text. Thomas was most likely named for a family member or friend (possibly Thomas Knot as he was linked with Francis during Catherine’s pregnancy, Francis’s grandfather Thomas Peniston, or Thomas Boleyn), but I have named him after a midwife that did not exist. There is also no record of Catherine suffering from childbed fever. We do not even know if Thomas was born abroad, but it seems unlikely that Catherine would have travelled alone back to England during her pregnancy.