Queen of This Realm (34 page)

I was not disappointed. The Grand Prior was a fascinating man. There was little of the churchman about him. He was handsome, possessed of grace and charm, with impeccable manners and just the right touch of foreignness to intrigue me. He was the type of man I had always found extremely attractive.

I made him talk about his niece Mary whom he had known well. Her mother had been his sister and the Guises had taken charge of her when as a child she had first arrived in France. He said she was charming and beautiful and—perhaps because of his beautiful manners—he managed to convey that I was equally so.

I was determined to entertain him royally to show that we in England could treat our visitors with perfect hospitality even when not so long before we had been enemies.

I decided on a banquet to be followed by a ballet.

I had the banqueting hall hung with tapestries representing the parable of the virgins of the Evangelists, and with the Grand Prior seated beside me I explained to him that I had been born in the Chamber of Virgins under the sign of the Virgin which brought out gallant remarks about my not being allowed to remain in the single state for long. To which I replied that the choice lay with me.

His eyes sparkled with Gallic passion and he implied that he would greatly love to be the one who made me change my mind.

I laughed with him. I enjoyed this kind of conversation. Robert glowered a little, but he knew there was nothing to fear from this Frenchman. All the same he was becoming more and more possessive and hated to see anyone take up too much of my attention. He was also growing too bold and because I had granted him favors and shown my regard for him sometimes he behaved as a jealous husband might, and although there were occasions when I was amused at this, at others I was not. I suppose it depended on my mood.

The ballet was a great success. It was performed by my maids of honor representing the ten virgins—the foolish and the wise. They carried silver lamps, beautifully engraved, some carrying oil, some empty.

There was spontaneous applause. I glanced sideways at my handsome Frenchman and could be sure that he was enchanted by the sight, so perhaps it was as elegant as he was accustomed to seeing at the French Court.

The ladies set down their lamps and danced most gracefully. They came to the Prior and his entourage and invited them to dance, which they did.

I was ready to dance because I had arranged as part of the procedure that they should beg me to do so and that I should at first refuse and then give way because I wished to honor the Prior.

Later he complimented me on my dancing, my beauty and the elegance of my Court.

I turned to him smiling and said: “You are so gallant, Monsieur, that I love you, but I hate that brother Guise of yours who took Calais from me.”

“Alas,” he said, “that is war. But on this enchanted night let us not talk of unhappy things. I have seen you dance, and I could never be happy again if I did not have the honor of dancing with you.”

I could dance through the night without the slightest fatigue, so I was delighted; and they all watched while I and the Grand Prior of France danced together.

In due course I said goodbye to the charming Prior and he left for France. I could imagine what questions the Queen-Mother, Catherine de' Medici, would ask of him but I was sure he had been impressed by the manner of his reception, and I did believe that he really had admired me a little.

My thoughts were constantly on Mary of Scotland and they brought me little comfort. Cecil shared my apprehension.

I said to him: “It is not a comforting thought to know that she is just across the Border and does not need to cross the seas to come to England.”

Cecil said: “I know Your Majesty's great desire is for a peaceful reign, and that you agree with me that the best way to keep peace is to prepare for war. I have been meaning to discuss with you, when the time was ripe, the extension of the Navy. We should build more ships. It gives work to our people and work makes prosperity. It is better to spend money on such things than on war… and then should the need arise to defend ourselves we are prepared.”

I smiled at him. “Dear good Master Cecil, I thank God for giving you to me.”

He was moved and I felt better than I had since Mary Stuart had come to Scotland.

I LISTENED TO
the young man who sat some little distance from me playing his lute. He had a delicate touch and the music moved me deeply. He was a handsome young man—very tall and elegant; his hair curled prettily about his head, but there was a petulant touch about his mouth. In spite of his handsome looks he was quite unlike men such as Robert Dudley, the kind I so much admired, for there was something almost effeminate about young Lord Darnley.

As I listened I wondered whether that petulance I had noticed was envy. Did the foolish boy really think he should be sitting in my place? It was amazing what notions crept into the mind of those who had a modicum of royal blood.

Of course he was of the male sex and that, in his eyes, set him above any woman however capable, however much closer she was to the throne. The assumption that women were somehow inferior to men always made me burn with indignation. I would show them one day that my sex was no handicap to my power and my ability.

But perhaps my young lute player's dissatisfaction had been inspired by his mother. There was a woman to watch. I was certain that she was up to tricks and had been ever since I came to the throne.

This boy was the second but eldest surviving son of Matthew Stewart, Earl of Lennox, and Margaret Douglas—and Lady Margaret was the daughter of my father's sister, Margaret Tudor. My father and his sister Margaret had never been on good terms, and he had been delighted when she married into Scotland; but Margaret Tudor had all the fire and determination of her race and she had had a very colorful life on the other side of the Border. This
Lady Margaret, Countess of Lennox, was the child of her mother's second marriage to Archibald Douglas, Earl of Angus, and she had always been an enemy of mine. She had been a great friend of my sister Mary and I believed she had even had the temerity to fancy she might follow Mary in my place. I discovered that she was responsible for certain activities at the time of the Wyatt Rebellion and had done her best to have me implicated in that affair.

When I came to the throne I extended the hand of friendship to her as I did to so many who had shown a certain animosity to me during my sister's reign for I hoped to win them over; but there are some who cannot be won and for a woman of Lady Lennox's nature together with her strong Catholic leanings and a drop of royal blood, there would always be resentment of me, and she had never overcome the covetous aspirations she had had toward my throne.

She was intriguing in Yorkshire so I brought her and her family to London where the Earl of Lennox was lodged in the Tower and the Countess and Lord Darnley were kept in restraint in the house of Sir Richard Sackville at Shene while inquiries were made concerning their activities.

From Shene the Countess wrote me most appealing letters assuring me of her desire for friendship and it had occurred to me that it would be better to have the family under my eyes at Court rather than intriguing somewhere in the country.

In due course I granted the Earl's request that he might go to Scotland, so he left his lodgings in the Tower and departed. I did not think either the Countess or the Earl were very clever and I was sure that their son would never win the people's approval—so I was not unduly worried about them. If it had not been for their royal connections, I would have dismissed them as nonentities.

However, Lord Darnley certainly knew how to play the lute and any good musician was welcome at my Court.

As I sat listening to him the Scottish Ambassador, Sir James Melville, was at my side and I could see that he too was moved by the music.

When Darnley stopped playing I applauded and the young man came and bowed to me. He had graceful manners and really was a very pretty boy.

I watched the rather dour Melville studying him as Darnley moved off and joined some of the ladies who were inclined to pet him.

I said to Melville: “Our pretty boy has a masterly touch with the lute.”

“Very accomplished,” agreed Melville.

“I believe his mother has ambitions for him.”

“What mother is not ambitious for her son?”

“She is trying to regain her estates in Scotland.”

“That is to be expected.”

Ah, I thought, Master Melville is taken with the pretty boy and his forceful mother. I shall have to watch this.

“I was happy that Your Grace had permitted the Earl to visit Edinburgh,” went on Melville.

“He is going to plead with the Queen of Scots for the restoration of his estates. Let us hope he will be successful.”

“Then I doubt not the Countess and Lord Darnley will join him there.”

I was a little puzzled because I was growing more and more certain that Sir James was working toward some end and it had suddenly occurred to me that it might involve the Lennox family.

I discussed it with Cecil who was always aware of intrigue wherever it sprang up.

“It would seem to me,” said that wise man, “that the Countess might like to see her son married to the Queen of Scotland.”

“Impossible!” I cried.

“Why so? The Queen is a widow. She is very young and will certainly marry.” He looked at me sternly. “She owes it to her people to get an heir.”

I did not answer that and he went on: “Why should it not be Henry Stewart Lord Darnley? He has royal blood; his grandmother was the daughter of a king. And if at the moment he lacks ambition, most certainly his parents do not. His mother is anxious for a crown…of some sort. She once had pretensions to yours, remember. It seems most natural to me that, failing the crown of England, she should set her son trying for that of Scotland.”

“Darnley King of Scotland! I would never agree to that.”

“Once he was in Scotland your consent would not be necessary. Moreover, consider it. What think you of Lord Darnley?”

“Very little. A frivolous, petulant, spoilt boy.”

“That is exactly my opinion. Would it not be better for the Queen of Scots to marry a petulant spoilt boy than a strong man?”

I looked at Cecil and once again I thanked God for him.

“I see,” I said slowly.

“We must certainly wait and see what comes of this matter. We will oppose it in public but in private … let us consider that for England it would not be such a bad thing.”

WE WERE AT
Hampton Court and the weather was cold for October. I had not been well for some days and had had a touch of fever. One of my pleasures was to take a bath which many of my ladies thought was bad for my health, but I found that to immerse my body in warm water, and lie there until it was cleansed of its impurities, refreshed me. Since I had
become Queen, courtiers had become much cleaner for the simple reason that I had a very sensitive nose and could not bear anything evil-smelling close to me. All at my Court must wash and change their clothes regularly so that there was no unpleasant smell about them when they came into my presence. Consequently the production of soap had greatly increased. When I traveled my bath would be taken with other household goods so that whenever I felt the need I could enjoy complete immersion.

Kat said it was folly when I was not feeling well and she was sure I had some fever, but I told her to be silent; but perhaps she was right for I caught a chill and the next day I had to take to my bed.

When Lord Hunsdon heard that I was unwell, he begged to be allowed to come to see me. I was rather fond of him and he was my first cousin, being the son of my mother's sister Mary. When I came to the throne he had been plain Henry Carey. I gave him a knighthood at once and later created him Baron Hunsdon. I always tried to help the Boleyns and he was one to be proud of because he excelled at the jousts, and not long ago he and Robert had led the lists against all comers in a tournament we had had at Greenwich. I had been so delighted that my cousin and the most important of all men should so excel together.

So I allowed Lord Hunsdon to be brought to me.

When he saw me he fell on his knees by the bed in some alarm and begged me to allow him to summon a doctor in whom he had great trust because he himself had benefited from his skill. So I gave my permission for Dr Burcot to come to see me, and when he came I was furious that I had done so, for the man looked at me, touched my brow, felt the fever and said: “Your Majesty, you have the smallpox.”

The smallpox! The dreaded disease which could be fatal and almost always was! And even if one survived there was a chance of one's being disfigured for life. The thought of my white skin—in which I took such pride—being hideously pitted was more than I could bear.

“I have not got the pox!” I cried. “I will not have the pox! Take this man away. He is a knave. A charlatan. He knows not what he talks of.”

Dr Burcot bowed and retired and I lay back on my bed exhausted with rage and fever.

I lived in fear and each morning I searched my body for the dreaded sign. No spots appeared, but I felt no better. My fever increased. I knew now that they all expected I was on my death-bed and the Privy Council was called together to take a vital decision on the succession. Some naturally thought that Katharine Grey should succeed me; others thought that the choice should fall on Henry Hastings, Earl of Huntingdon, who was a Plantagenet through his descent on his mother's side from Edward IV's brother
the Duke of Clarence. He was a strong Protestant and for that reason was sure of favor in many circles. The great fear was that Spain would take action and an attempt would be made to set Mary Stuart on the throne.

I was only vaguely aware of this as I lay in my bed and suddenly I opened my eyes and saw the members of my Council about my bed.

I struggled back to consciousness. This could mean one thing. I was dying.

My first thought was of Robert Dudley, which showed that I truly loved him. I thought: What will become of him? It was his great wish to rule the country and there was no doubt that he had great ability.