Life of Elizabeth I (15 page)

Cecil himself was reluctant to leave court. He suspected that Dudley had persuaded the Queen to send him to Scotland to get him out of the way, and he was convinced that, once he had left, Dudley would supplant him in the royal counsels. He confided to Throckmorton: 'My journey is to me very strange and diversely judged of. My friends think I am herein betrayed to be sent from the Queen's Majesty.' On another level, he would be relieved to be away from all the backbiting and intrigue at court, which wearied him. Yet when he left for Edinburgh, it was with a heavy heart, for he could see himself being ousted from power during his absence by a man who would surely bring England to speedy ruin, a man to whose name foul rumours were still attaching themselves.

In June 1560, old Mother Annie Dowe of Brentwood in Essex was fond of repeating to her ignorant cronies the latest gossip from London about the Queen and Dudley. The latter, she had heard, had given Her Majesty a red petticoat.

A friend, who had also heard rumours, retorted, 'Thinketh thou it was a petticoat? No, no, he gave her a child, I warrant thee.'

Annie Dowe gleefully repeated this gem of gossip in the next village.

'My Lord Robert and the Queen have played at legerdemain together', she said meaningfully, 'and he is the father of her child.'

The astonished villagers responded, 'Why, she hath no child yet.'

'No, she hath not', concluded Mother Dowe, 'they have put one to making.'

Her words were reported to the authorities and she was arrested, tried and, in August, sent to gaol. The local magistrates insisted that her case be tried
in camera,
in order to prevent her scandalous tales from reaching the public's ears. But it was too late: the stories were already circulating beyond Essex, and even ten years later there were persistent rumours that the Queen and Dudley had had a child. One man, Henry Hawkins, was punished for stating that 'My Lord Robert hath five children by the Queen, and she never goeth on progress but to be delivered.' By then, the authorities' patience was wearing thin; over the years many offenders had their ears cut off or suffered the same fate as Mother Dowe for spreading the slanders.

But even these harsh punishments did not silence the gossip, and ambassadors - particularly those from Spain - coming to England later 
in the reign heard these tales of royal bastards and believed them. One young man who appeared in Spain in the 1580s claimed to be the son of Elizabeth and Dudley, and King Philip went so far as to verify his claim; it was found to be fraudulent, but many were willing to believe in it, and some still do, even today, despite the evidence against its veracity.

On 2 July 1560, the war with Scotland was brought to an end by the signing of the Treaty of Edinburgh - for Cecil, a diplomatic triumph, achieved after weeks of tortuous bargaining. Under the terms of the treaty, the French agreed to withdraw from Scotland, leaving the government of that kingdom in the hands of the Scottish council, with the English and French undertaking not to interfere. In the name of Queen Mary, the French commissioners promised that she would renounce all claims to Elizabeth's throne and would cease to quarter the royal arms of England with her own. At last, the French had agreed to recognise Elizabeth as Queen of England. It did seem that a true foundation for peace had been arrived at, and that the threat of war had been removed. More importantly, Elizabeth's prestige had been much enhanced in the eyes of Europe. Cecil was well satisfied with what he had achieved.

Not so Elizabeth. In a series of letters to Edinburgh, she castigated him for not having secured the return of Calais, or for not forcing the French to reimburse the money she had spent fighting them in Scotland. Cecil's elation soon faded; he believed Dudley was behind her complaints and was out to discredit the Secretary. This might have been the case, but equally well Elizabeth had been pessimistic about the outcome of Cecil's mission, and may have been put out at being proved wrong.

Elizabeth was, in fact, enjoying the most glorious summer of her life. Freed from the threat
of
war, she now gave herself over to a season of revelry in the company of Dudley, neglecting her state duties in the process. At the end of July, she left Greenwich to go on progress, travelling by slow stages along the southern shores of the Thames and staying at great houses along the route. Dudley, as Master of the Horse, was much in evidence, but he was also to be seen at Elizabeth's side long after his official duties were done. They rode and hunted nearly every day, Elizabeth choosing the most spirited horses, and in the evenings there would be dancing and music-making. Whereas before she had flirted with other men besides Dudley, she now favoured him with all her attention to the point of being accused of being a wanton or an adulteress. The gossips reported that they spent whole days closeted alone together, and one courtier expostulated, 'Not a man in England 
but cries out at the top of his voice, this fellow is ruining the country with his vanity!'

There was, reported a Spanish envoy in Antwerp, much grudging on the part of the English nobles 'to see someone in such special favour, and the little regard the Queen hath for marriage'.

It was this 'little regard' that so worried Cecil: the related subjects of the Queen's marriage and the succession were never far from his mind, and even in Edinburgh, he took the trouble to write and express his hopes that 'God would direct your heart to procure a father for your children, and so shall the children of all your realm bless your seed.' Many of her subjects believed that Elizabeth was doing exactly as Cecil advised, but they deplored her choice.

At the end of July, after an absence of nearly two months, Cecil returned to court, expecting perhaps to receive a grateful welcome from his sovereign. But while his fellow councillors were warm in their congratulations, Elizabeth was cool and distant, and Dudley all-powerful and - contrary to his avowed principles - courting the goodwill and support of de Quadra, hoping to enlist Spanish support for himself in a bid to counter the Secretary's influence - all with the Queen's knowledge and approval. She had even declared that she wanted 'a swordsman' who would equal her 'scribes'.

Cecil realised with a sinking heart that he had been away too long. He apparently concluded that, during his absence, the relationship between the Queen and her favourite had undergone a fundamental change. Whatever he imagined this was alarmed him, but not so greatly as did the change in the Queen's attitude towards himself. She had shown no gratitude for his work in Edinburgh, and she had made it plain that she would not defray all his expenses, even though he was out of pocket on her account. Now, when he needed to consult her on state affairs, he would be told that she had gone out riding with Dudley. All the signs indicated that she meant to marry him, if he could be freed from his marriage.

Rumours of divorce - and worse - were still prevalent. A royal torchbearer was happily spreading a report of how the Queen, returning one evening from visiting Dudley at Kew, spoke warmly to her attendants of Dudley's praiseworthy qualities, and declared that she intended to bestow further honours on him. This led to speculation that he, would have a dukedom conferred upon him, or that the Queen meant to marry him once he was free. It was all reported to the Privy Council and caused Cecil grave concern. He had no idea how far Elizabeth's relationship with Dudley had progressed and he could see her recklessly ruining her reputation and courting disaster.

The councillors debated the matter amongst themselves, deploring to 
a man the Queen's failure to marry one of her princely suitors. Some suggested that this was because she would brook no master; others believed she intended to use her marriage as a means of bargaining with her European neighbours; but most felt that it was of little use to contemplate a foreign marriage alliance, because they believed that Elizabeth had already decided to marry Dudley. The situation seemed so desperate that de Quadra expected a palace coup, and commented, 'The cry is, that they do not want any more women rulers, and this woman may therefore find herself and her favourite in prison any morning.'

Cecil, seeing his own career at an end, quickly became very depressed and, within a month, was seriously considering tendering his resignation, hinting as much in a letter to the Earl of Bedford. He planned to recall Sir Nicholas Throckmorton from Paris to replace himself as Secretary, and wrote to him, 'You must needs return. I dare not write that I might speak. God send Her Majesty understanding of what shall be her surety' - in other words, a prestigious foreign marriage alliance.

The Secretary also regaled Throckmorton and other English ambassadors abroad with a highly-coloured version of what was going on between the Queen and her favourite, intimating that it would be helpful if they could convey the disapproval of foreign governments, which might give Elizabeth pause for thought.

On 30 August, the court moved to Windsor. A week earlier, the Scottish Parliament had abolished the authority of the Roman Catholic Church and made the celebration of the mass in Scotland a capital offence. Instead, with the tacit approval of Queen Elizabeth, the Calvinist form of Protestantism became the official religion. The Scottish lords now hoped to consolidate their settlement by uniting Scotland with England through the marriage of Elizabeth to the Earl of Arran, notwithstanding the fact that Elizabeth had made it clear she was not interested in the match. The Scots were determined 'with tooth and nail' to bring it about, but before negotiations could proceed, something happened which brought state affairs in England to a near standstill.

Robert Dudley had never maintained a private establishment for himself and his wife. He had his house at Kew, given him by the Queen, but Elizabeth had made it clear that any reference to Amy Dudley was unpleasing to her, and was given to calling on her favourite unannounced, so Amy never came to Kew. Instead, she spent her time on long visits to the houses of relatives and friends.

Dudley and his wife had now been married for over eight years, but they rarely saw each other. The Queen insisted upon him being at court and he could only manage rare visits home. There is evidence that Amy made at least one visit to court, but it is unlikely that her presence was 
welcome. It was not unusual in those days for the wives of courtiers to remain in the country while their husbands served at court; it was possible for wives to reside at court, but the cost was enormous and the Queen discouraged the practice. She liked her male courtiers to dance attendance on her, not on their wives.

In the winter of 1558-9, Amy Dudley stayed with friends in Lincolnshire and Bury St Edmunds. In the spring, she travelled to Camberwell, south of London, to visit her mother's kinsfolk, the Scotts. Thereafter she seems to have stayed mainly at the house of William Hyde at Denchworth, near Abingdon, which still stands today, although it bears little resemblance to the house Amy knew. Dudley sent gifts to her there, all of which are listed in his account books: a hood, gold buttons, spices, venison, sewing silk, hosiery, a looking glass, and Holland cloth for ruffs. She was never in want of material things, and Dudley saw to it that her needs were provided for. Occasionally, he came himself to see her, although during 1560 those visits became less and less frequent.

We can deduce little of the relationship that existed between the couple from the records that remain. They had no children, nor is there any evidence that Amy was ever pregnant. Like most wives of her class, she diligently looked after matters of business concerning his lands and farms whilst her husband was away. She must have heard the gossip about his relationship with the Queen, but we do not know for certain how much it affected her.

Before midsummer 1560, Amy had moved again, for reasons that are obscure, this time to Cumnor Place, a house leased by Dudley's former steward, Anthony Forster, now the treasurer of his household and MP for Abingdon, from William Owen, the son of the late royal physician, Dr George Owen, who had served Henry VIII, Edward VI and Queen Mary. Mr Owen still lived in the house in his own apartments.

Situated near the road connecting Oxford with Abingdon, near a large village, Cumnor Place, which has long since disappeared, was a relatively small medieval house. Built of grey stone in the fourteenth century, it had once been part of a religious foundation, the summer retreat of the Abbots of Abingdon and an occasional sanatorium for its monks, and was a rambling, quadrangular building surrounding a central courtyard. Some accounts describe Cumnor Place as being a singlestoreyed house, but at least three of its residents had rooms above the hall, so there must have been an upper floor. Set in pretty formal gardens, the building was in a good state of repair, thanks to the renovations made by Mr Forster - who later purchased it and is buried in the nearby church - and offered comfortable accommodation.

Amy brought with her some servants, as well as her personal maid, 
Mrs Pirgo (or Pirto, or Pinto), and her companion, a Mrs Odingsells, the widowed sister of William Hyde, Amy's former host at Denchworth. Once they were all installed the house was rather crowded, for it also sheltered not only Mr and Mrs Forster (who was the niece of Lord Williams of Thame, who had been a friend to the Queen during Mary's reign) but also William Owen's elderly mother, Mrs Owen. Amy and Mrs Odingsells were assigned rooms in the west wing above the great hall, next to the apartment of Mrs Owen, whilst the Forsters had their own separate suite of rooms, as did Mr Owen. The Forsters, Hydes and Owens had long been acquainted with the Dudleys, were all related by marriage and were prominent in local society, into which they introduced Lady Dudley. Anthony Forster was a congenial host, being a cultivated and much-travelled man who loved music and could sing and play on the virginals with skill.