Queen of This Realm (52 page)

“Never,” he said. “But it would be helpful to you and perhaps…”

“Perhaps I am not too old to bear an heir? Come, Burghley, you deceive yourself.”

“I would see Your Grace married to the man of your choice. And none of us has any doubt who that would be.”

“Leicester!” I cried. “I tell you this: It would be unlike myself and unmindful of my royal majesty to prefer a servant whom I myself have raised up before the greatest princes in Christendom.”

I had spoken lightly but I had raised my voice and there were others in the apartment, though not close to us. I heard the shocked silence, and I knew that there would be many to report to Robert what I had said. He would guess I was only teasing. Or would he? It was only a short time ago that I had offered him to Cecilia of Sweden.

“Come, Burghley,” I said, “let us offer a warm welcome to this Frenchman who comes to woo me.”

JEHAN DE SIMIER,
the charming Frenchman who had come to woo me on behalf of his master, arrived in England and I was greatly looking forward to the exercise. Burghley, who knew me well, again warned me that I should have to take the utmost care. The situation with the Netherlands was tricky, and Walsingham agreed with him that it would go hard with us if either the French or the Spanish gained control there.

“The French will do nothing there while I dally with their little Duc through his proxy,” I said. “This marriage is of the utmost importance to the Queen Mother. Did you know that one of her soothsayers told her that all her sons would wear crowns? It has come true with one exception. My little Anjou. You see how earnest she is in her endeavors to marry me to him. She would not dream of destroying the hopes of that prophecy's coming true… even for the sake of the Netherlands.”

“Unless you propose to marry, Your Majesty must walk with extreme care.”

“Dear Spirit, you must know that when I appear to step with little consequence I am picking my way with utmost care.”

He bowed his head. He believed me.

I gave myself up to entertaining Monsieur de Simier, and what a joy that was! “I declare,” I said to him, “I am fast falling deeper in love with the Duc d'Anjou through his proxy.”

How graceful he was! How witty! He had all the social virtues and I had to admit that the French certainly shone in society. Simier could dance with grace; he had a deep knowledge of music; he was exquisite in his dress—less flamboyant than our gentlemen but somehow managing to outshine them in elegance without dazzling the observer only with the glitter of multicolored jewels. The compliments he paid were discreet and yet somehow tender and passionate and more provocative in intent than any I had received before. In fact Simier behaved like a lover—and the best sort of lover from my point of view; for this was a courtship which could go on as long as he was in the country, and I had no fear of an attempt to hurry me into a climax which might be detrimental to my dignity.

I could not have enough of Simier's company; in fact so successful was his visit that most of those around me thought that I intended entering into matrimony at last.

There were intimate discussions between the doctors and some of the members of my bedchamber as to whether I should still be able to bear a child and give the country the longed-for heir. The verdict was that this was distinctly possible. I was forty-five years of age but extraordinarily well preserved. I had all my teeth; my skin was white and clear; my face was unlined, and if my hair was not quite as bright and plentiful as it had once been, that was easily remedied. My ladies had some effective lotions and there were always false pieces and wigs to fall back on.

They were right. I was in the condition of a woman ten years younger than myself and although it was getting rather late for marriage, the verdict was that if I did not delay too long there might very well be a satisfactory outcome.

This was one of the most enjoyable periods I remember. I was being courted with charm, skill and a display of absolute adoration by one who clearly had been chosen for his abilities to represent his master. My own men showed clearly their regard for me and made it obvious that they were only in favor of the marriage because they believed it would be best for me; but the faces of those most near to me were melancholy during those days.

I asked Hatton what ailed him and he said he dared not tell me, at which I insisted.

Then he said: “Since Your Majesty commands, I will tell you it is because of this marriage.”

“Oh, so old Bellwether does not like the French.”

“I know,” he said, “that this marriage would do good to the country.” Then he raised his eyes to me with the most soulful expression and added: “I have to agree with the Council that it should take place, but when it does I shall suffer most dreadfully. Your Majesty fishes for men's souls and has so sweet a bait that none can escape your network.”

I gave him a playful push. “It will make no difference to you, my dear Mutton,” I said. “You will remain my friend as you ever were.”

It was the same with Heneage. He raised his eyes to mine and said: “I know this marriage must be but it is hard for one who loves Your Majesty— even as the French Prince will, and the greatness of his kingly birth makes him fit to have Your Majesty it is true, but the love of this humble servant is no less great than that of the highest prince.”

I replied with deep feeling that nothing would induce me to part with my dear friends, and no matter if I married the greatest prince in Christendom I should never do that.

John Aylmer, Bishop of London, may not have been able to express his devotion in such a flowery manner but he did so in a practical way. There was a great deal of talk at this time about plots devised by the Catholics, the aim being to depose me and set Mary of Scotland on the throne. In fact several waxen images of me had been found in the house of a Catholic priest in Islington. Such matters were promptly dealt with but they did give rise to concern and I began to be plagued by a nagging toothache, which grew so bad that I was unable to sleep at night and so anxious did my ministers become—they were always thrown into a panic at any disability on my part—that they called a conference of the physicians, one of whom mentioned a certain Anthony Fenatus who had a reputation for making fantastic cures.

“What if the man is a Catholic?” said Burghley.

“What if he is one of Philip's spies?” asked Robert.

“He might be a sorcerer,” suggested Heneage.

Thus it was decided that Fenatus should not actually see me but should write a prescription which one of our men would make up.

Fenatus replied that he had no skill to produce an effective cure and if a tooth was hollow the only way to stop the pain was to withdraw it. However, if Her Majesty did not wish to submit to the chirurgical instruments,
the tooth could be stopped with wax which would loosen it, but care must be taken that the wax touched no other tooth; then juice of the plant known as fenugreek, which was to be found in Suffolk, should be applied. This might loosen the tooth still more and make it easy to withdraw, for, he repeated, the only safe way to be rid of the pain was to be rid of the tooth.

The method was tried without success. The tooth remained firm and unbearably painful. My Council met and discussed the tooth as though it were the gravest matter of state, which I supposed it was for the pain was undermining my health.

Burghley implored me to have it withdrawn, but I was adamant. I could not endure the pain of it.

Then it was that John Aylmer showed his love for me in a very special way. He said: “Your Majesty, to draw a tooth is not as painful an operation as Your Majesty thinks. The pain is sharp and short and to be preferred to this enduring agony. I am an old man with few teeth to spare but Your Majesty shall see a practical experiment on me for I would willingly give my life in your service, so what is a mere tooth?”

Whereupon he called the surgeon and in a very short time one of his teeth was pulled out. He uttered not a cry, but sat still holding a kerchief to his mouth with a look of triumph on his dear good face.

After that I had no alternative but to submit to the operation and in a very short time it was performed. Aylmer was right—a short sharp pain was infinitely preferable to that continuous nagging agony.

Such devotion filled me with gratitude and I would never forget John Aylmer's action and whenever I saw him afterward I asked him how many teeth he had left and he would tell me with a smile and add that every one of them was at my service.

I was fortunate in the men I had chosen to surround me. Years afterward, looking back, I often thought that one of my greatest gifts was an ability to sift the wheat from the tares. I had the greatest men in England serving me, which was tantamount to serving their country, and I have never forgotten—and as I grew older this became more clear to me—what I owed to these good and clever creatures.

Robert during this time was inclined to be sullen. His hatred of Simier made me laugh. He said that the man was a poseur, a twittering Frenchman, a man whose chief concern was the cut of his coat.

I replied: “Dear Robert, you dress rather splendidly yourself.”

“I trust I do not mince and prance like your little French favorite.”

I pretended to be annoyed with him and said that I intended to keep my charming friend at my side, not only out of courtesy to one who came on
such an errand but because I happened to like his company and found it more amusing than that of some others.

I expected Robert to be overcome with remorse and seek a way of regaining my favor; but he was not and did not; instead he asked for permission to leave Court and this I peremptorily gave.

Rumors concerning the evil powers practiced by the French emissary persisted and it was believed that they came from the jealous Leicester; but the people in the streets were saying that I was being wooed by sorcery and that the Queen Mother of France was noted for dabbling in the black arts.

Realizing that such rumors were having an adverse effect on his courtship and guessing from where they emanated, Simier decided to have his revenge.

He came to me one day, his eyes sparkling with excitement which at first I thought was pleasure in seeing me. He took my hand and kissed it in that particularly fervent manner of his which so pleased me and said that his master was growing more and more impatient.

“When I write to him and tell him of your perfections, he is all eagerness to taste your sweetness. He cannot understand why you are so cruel as to keep yourself from him. Your Majesty, I beg you to say the word which will make him the happiest man on Earth.”

I began the usual protest. I was an old woman. Our religions were different. My people did not care for a foreign marriage.

He lifted his hand and said: “May I ask Your Majesty one question. Is it because your affections are given elsewhere?”

I pretended to be astonished. “There are no other negotiations for marriage at this time.”

“I mean one near to you … one of your own subjects. I refer, Your Majesty, to the Earl of Leicester. It is said that you are so enamored of him that he will always stand between you and any marriage that you might make.”

“The Earl of Leicester has been my very good friend for many years.”

“Yet he keeps secrets from Your Majesty.”

“Secrets? What secrets?”

“Such as his marriage.”

“Marriage!” I cried, taken off my guard. “For some months, Your Majesty, the Earl of Leicester has been the husband of that lady who was previously the Countess of Essex.”

“This cannot be true.”

“It is a matter which is well known to most. Only Your Majesty appears to have been kept in the dark.”

I cannot describe my feelings. That he should have dared! That he
should have deceived me so! Robert…to marry that woman! It was her fault of course. She had captured him… worked her magic on him. The she-wolf! How I hated her!

Simier was all concern.

“I should have broken the news more gently,” he said. “I thought you must be aware of it…as so many are. It is distressing to hear news of a subject's perfidy. Pray give me leave to retire and send your ladies to you.”

I did not attempt to stop him. When he had gone and my ladies were with me, I cried: “Send Burghley to me … Sussex … Walsingham … I would have word with them without delay.”

One of my ladies put a chair for me to sit in. She would have given me a concoction to smell for she feared I was going to faint, but I pushed her angrily away.

Sussex came with Burghley.

I cried: “Did you know that Leicester is married? He has married that she-wolf whom I took into my care.”

They said they knew.

“Everyone knew … except the Queen!” I cried. “By God's Precious Soul, how can I ever trust those around me again?”

“My lady … Your gracious Majesty …” said Sussex, “the news was kept from you out of concern for you.”

“Concern for me! When those two scoundrels conspire against me!”

Sussex said gently: “It cannot be said that they conspired against Your Majesty. They decided to marry, and they have a perfect right to do so. They are not royal persons who need the consent of the Sovereign.”

“They deceived me! They deceived the Queen! Let Leicester be sent to the Tower at once.”

Sussex looked at me earnestly and shook his head.

“Do you hear me!” I cried.

He said: “I hear Your Majesty, and I must tell you that you cannot send Leicester to the Tower because he takes an action which he has a perfect right to do.”

I glared at Sussex. “You would tell me, my lord, what I must and must not do?”

He looked at me steadily. “If I thought it was for the good of Your Majesty, I would risk displeasing you.”

There had always been something noble about Sussex. He prided himself on doing what he considered right. I could see that Burghley was gently shaking his head; warning me that I must curb my anger. I must not let people see how deeply Robert's defection had wounded me.

Sussex was saying: “Your Majesty must consider the effect such an action
would have on the people. If they saw how great was your anger, they would believe those evil rumors which were once circulated about you and Leicester. I tell you this because I am prepared to risk your wrath in my zeal to serve you well.”