My Enemy, the Queen (44 page)

So the Queen and my son were good friends again. She kept him by her side; she danced with him; they laughed together and he delighted her with his frank conversation. They played cards until early morning, and it was said that she was restless when he was not beside her.

Oh yes, it was like the old pattern with Leicester but, alas, where Leicester had learned his lessons, Essex never would.

I had at last accepted that fact that the Queen would never forgive me for having married Leicester and that I should always be an outside observer of the events which were shaping our country. That was hard for a woman of my nature to accept; but I was not one to sit down and mope. I suppose like my son and daughter I would fight to the end. I always felt, though, that if only I could have once met the Queen and talked to her, we could have repressed our resentment and I could have amused her in the way I had so long ago; then we could have come to some understanding. I was no longer Lettice Dudley but Lettice Blount. True I had a young husband who adored me, and that might displease her. She would think I ought to be punished for what I had done. I wondered if she had heard rumors about my having helped Leicester out of this world. Surely not. She would never have let that rest.

But I did not give up hope. Essex told me that on those occasions when he broached the matter of my reinstatement at Court her looks grew stormy, she became formidable and refused to discuss it with him, turning from him and not speaking to him for the rest of the evening. She had intimated that this was one subject which even he must not mention.

l have to go warily with her,he said. ut Il do it in time.

I guessed that she had been even fiercer than he implied, since she had made him realize that his insistence could bring about his banishment from Court. But I knew my Robert. He would not let the matter rest. It was, however, a question of her will against his.

So there I waso longer young but still attractive. I had my home in which I took a pride. My table was one of the best in the country. I was determined to rival those of the royal palaces and I hoped the Queen would hear of it. I would myself supervise the making of salads from the products of my own gardens; my wines were muscatel and malmsey and those from Greece and Italy, which were often laced with my own special spices. The kissing comfits served at my table were the daintiest and sweetest to be found. I occupied myself with the making of lotions and creams specially suited to my needs. They enhanced my beauty so that there were times when it seemed it glowed more brightly as I grew older. My clothes were noted for their elegance and style; they were of silk, damask, brocade, sarcenet and the incomparable beauty of my favorite velvet. They came in the most delightful colors, for with every year the dyers grew more expert in their trade. Peacock blue and popinjay green; maidenhair brown and gentian blue; poppy red and marigold yellow I reveled in them all. My seamstresses worked constantly to beautify me and the result I must sayespising false modestyas good.

I was a happy womanpart from one great desire: to be received by the Queen. Being married to a husband much younger than myself helped to preserve my youth, and with a family who gave me so much affectionnd among that family a son who was generally accepted to be the brightest star of the Court had good reason for contentment and must forget this need which overshadowed my life. I must forget the Queen, who was determined to punish me. I must take my life for what it was. I reminded myself that it was filled with excitement and my greatest delight was wrapped up in my son, who loved me devotedly and had made me the center of our family.

Why should I allow an aging and vindictive woman to come between me and my pleasure? I would forget her. Leicester had gone. This was a new life for me. I must be thankful for it and enjoy it.

But I could not forget her.

Even so my family affairs provided perpetual interest. Penelope was growing more and more dissatisfied with her marriage, although she had borne two more children to Lord Rich. She was having a love affair with Charles Blount, and they met constantly at my house. I did not feel I could criticize them. How could Iunderstanding full well their feelings for each other? Moreover if I had, they would have taken no notice of me. Charles was a most attractive man and Penelope told me that he would very much like her to leave Rich altogether and set up house with him.

I wondered what the Queen reaction to that situation would be. I knew that she would blame me. Every time Essex displeased her by a display of arrogance she would comment that he had inherited that trait from his mother, which showed that her animosity to me persisted.

Much that happened to my son is common knowledge. His was the sort of life which is an open book for all to read. So many of his emotions were displayed to the lookers-on; and when Essex rode through the streets people came out of their houses to stare at him.

He was arrogant, I knew; and very ambitious, but in my heart I also knew that he lacked the very quality to use his talents. Leicester had had that; Burleigh had it in excess; Hatton, Heneage, they all had stepped with the greatest care; but my son, Robin, liked to skate where the ice was thinnest. I sometimes think there was in him an inborn desire to destroy himself.

He told me that he despaired of ever realizing his ambition at home. Burleigh one thought was to advance his own son, Robert Cecil, and Burleigh held great influence with the Queen.

I was amazed that my son should have dreamed of taking over Burleigh place in the State, which was of course the most important one of all. The Queen would never dismiss Burleigh. She might dote on her favorite of favorites, but she was always the Queen at heart and knew Burleigh value. Often twinges of uneasiness would beset me when I was talking to my son, because he was fast believing that he was capable of leading the country. I, who loved him dearly, knew full well that even if his mental accomplishments had fitted him for that task, his temperament would have failed him.

During the few months he had lived in Burleigh house, he had made the acquaintance of Burleigh son, Robert like himself. But how different they were in appearance. Robert Cecil was very short; he had a slight curvature of the spine which the mode of dress at these times tended to exaggerate. He was very sensitive of his deformity. The Queen, who was fond of him and ready to advance Burleigh son, aware of his undoubted brilliance; however, she helped to call attention to his disability by giving him one of the nicknames she loved to bestow on her favorites. He was her Little Elf.

With Burleigh firmly in his post and unlikely ever to be removed from it except by death, Essex believed that his best way of advancing himself was through glory in battle.

The Queen was, at this time, much concerned with events in France, where, on the assassination of Henri III, Henri of Navarre had taken the throne and was having difficulty in holding it. As Henri was a Huguenot and Catholic Spain was still considered a threat in spite of the defeat of the Armada, it was decided to send help to Henri.

Essex wanted to go to France.

The Queen refused permission, for which I was glad; but I was worried, knowing what he had done previously and believing that he was quite capable of doing the same again. He was clearly becoming convinced that, whatever he did, the Queen would forgive him.

He sulked and begged and would talk of nothing but his desire to go, and at length she allowed him to do so. He took with him my son Walter and, alas, I never saw Walter again, for he was killed in the fighting before Rouen.

I have not written much of Walter. He was the young one, the quiet one. The rest of my children all asserted themselves, calling for attention in some way. Walter was different. I fancy the others resembled me, and Walter his father. But this gentle, affectionate boy was beloved by all of us, although we were inclined to ignore him when he was with us, but how we missed him when he was not! I knew that Essex would be heartbroken, and particularly so because he had persuaded him to go out and fight with him. It had been Essex who wanted to go to war and Walter had always wanted to follow his elder brother, but Essex would remember that, had he stayed at home as Ind the Queenad wished him to, Walter would never have met his death. Knowing Essex well, I could imagine that his melancholy would match my own.

I heard news of him. He was brave in battle. Of course he would be, with his reckless, fearless nature; he cherished his soldiers and lavished honors on them when, Burleigh pointed out to the Queen, he had no right to. We were very anxious about him because men who returned home spoke of his absolute recklessness and oblivion to danger and how even when he wanted to hunt, he never hesitated about venturing into enemy country.

The loss of Walter and my fears for Essex made me very nervous and I even thought of begging the Queen to receive me that I might implore her to bring him home. Perhaps if I went on such a mission and somehow was able to have it conveyed to her why I came, she would see me.

I did not have to go as far as that, for she, sharing my anxieties concerning him, recalled him.

He made excuses about returning and I thought he was going to defy her, but finally he obeyed her. I saw little of him though, for the Queen would have him at her side through the day and far into the night. I was surprised when she allowed him to return to the field of action. I suppose she could not resist his pleading.

So he went out again and the anxieties returned.

Frances visited me often, and we comforted each other. She was a gentle creature and she accepted Essex wildness as she had Philip Sidney passion for Penelope. There was a strength in her which contrasted oddly with her docility. She was a woman who had quickly learned to accept her fate with resignation, which was admirable, I supposed; and I thought of how I had raged against Leicester absences and had revenged myself on him by taking a lover. Yet I could respect Frances mildness and realized that it was a good crutch which carried her through the difficult periods of her life; but we are what we are, and I could never be like her.

Finally Essex came back unharmed. For four years he had stayed out of England.

The Road to the Scaffold

O God, give me true humility and patience to endure to the end, and I pray you all to pray with me and for me, that when you shall see me stretch out my arms and my neck on the block, and the stroke ready to be given, it would please the Everlasting God to send down His angels to carry my soul before His Mercy Seat.

Essex at his execution

To be a King, and wear a crown, is a thing more glorious to them that see it, than it is pleasant to them that bear it.

Elizabeth

They were dangerous years. Although Essex rose high in the Queen favor, I never knew a man so play with fire. He was my son after all. But I was continually reminding him of Leicester.

Once he said: wonder Christopher Blount does not object. You are always talking of Leicester as though he were a pattern of a man.

or you, he could be,I said. emember that he kept the Queen regard all his life.

Essex was impatient. He was not going to squirm and humble himself, he declared. The Queen, like everyone else, must take him as he was.

And it seemed she did. Oh, but he was surrounded by dangers. I knew Burleigh was against him now and determined to make the way clear for his son, but I was glad that Essex had struck up a friendship with the Bacon boysnthony and Francis. They were a clever pair and good for him, although they both suffered from resentment, fancying themselves both kept from high office by Burleigh.

Essex now had two more sonsalter, after his sadly missed uncle, and Henry. He, alas, was a far from faithful husband. He was lusty and sensual and he could not live without women, and as he had never curbed his desires in any respect, it was natural that he should not in this. One woman was not enough for him, for his fancy strayed quickly, and being in the position he was, there was no dearth of young women ready to submit to him.

It was typical of him that, instead of choosing a mistress with careomeone whom he could visit secretlye must become enamored of the Queen maids of honor. There were at least four who were known to me. Elizabeth Southwell bore him a son who was known as Walter Devereux and that was a great scandal; then there were Lady Mary Howard and two girls named Russell and Brydges, all of whom were publicly humiliated by the Queen.

I was very apprehensive about his indiscreet behavior, because Elizabeth was particularly strict with her maids of honor, who were carefully taken from families selected by hersually someone in the family had done her a service, and to take the girls was a reward. Mary Sidney was a good example of this, for she had been taken when her sister Ambrosia had died because the Queen was sorry for the family and Mary had, shortly afterwards and due to the Queen efforts, made a brilliant marriage with the Earl of Pembroke. The parents of the girls were always delighted at the honor because they knew that the Queen would do her best to look after their daughters. If any of these girls married without her consent, she was furious; if she suspected any of what she called lewd behavior, she was even more incensed; and if their partner in disgrace should be any of her favorites, she would be wild with rage. Yet knowing this, Essex philandered, not only endangering his position at Court but causing great sorrow to his wife and mother.

I often wondered how long he would be able to steer himself safely through all the perils which he made no effort to avoid. Of course the Queen was old and clung more and more to the young; and when he was charming he was quite irresistible, as we all found.

Penelope had now left her husband and was living openly with her lover Charles Blount, who had become Lord Mountjoy on the death of his elder brother.

Penelope had never been a favorite with the Queen; she shared a lack of tact with her brother and of course the Queen would not accept from beautiful women what she did from handsome men. Moreover Penelope labored under the difficulty of being my daughter, and when the Queen heard that she had left her husband and was living with Mountjoy, while she was prepared to accept Mountjoy departure from conventional behavior, for he was a good-looking young man, she did not apply the same leniency to Penelope, though not of her affection for Mountjoy, she did not forbid her to come to Court. .