I would not have you think that this, mine honest goodwill towards you, proceeds from any sudden motion of pa.s.sion; for, as truly as G.o.d is G.o.d, my mind was fully bent the other time I was at liberty to marry you before any man I know. Howbeit, G.o.d withstood my will therein most vehemently for a time, and through His grace and goodness made that seem possible which seemed to me most impossible: that was, made me renounce utterly mine own will, and follow His most willingly. It were long to write all the process of this matter. If I live, I shall declare it to you myself. I can say nothing, but - as my Lady of Suffolk saith G.o.d is a marvellous man. By her that is yours to serve and obey during life, Katherine the Queen, K.P.

On 17 May, Sudeley replied to his wife's letter. He was staying with her sister and Lord Herbert in London and had suffered some anxious moments there, as Lady Herbert seemed to know that he had been visiting Chelsea Old Manor at night. He denied it, yet Lady Herbert pressed the point and made it obvious that she knew very well there was something going on between the Admiral and her sister. Sudeley, blushing with embarra.s.sment, asked her where she had heard such things, and she confessed that Katherine had confided the truth to her. The Admiral related all this in his letter to his wife, thanking her for asking her sister to invite him, 'For, by her company, in default of yours, I shall shorten the weeks in these parts, which heretofore were three days longer than they were under the planets at Chelsea.' He ended by saying he was going to take Lady Herbert's advice about how to obtain the goodwill of the Council and, more importantly, his brother. He begged the Queen to write to him every three days, and to send him one of a series of miniatures she had of herself, and signed himself as 'him whom ye have bound to honour, love and in all lawful things obey'. The letter is deferential, as to the Queen, and very formal, and shows that the Admiral was well aware of the difference between his station and Katherine's.

The Lord Protector did not turn up at Chelsea on 18 May, and sent word he would not be able to come until the end of the month. The Admiral was by now concerned about his brother's reaction to his marriage, and wrote again to Katherine, telling her that, when she 542saw Somerset, she must press for a public announcement of their union within two months; previously, he had thought it wise to conceal it for as long as two years, with the Protector's consent, but now, after weeks of living apart from his bride, he was reluctant to play the role of secret husband for that length of time. He confessed also to Katherine that he was worried about how to win over his brother's support. To this she replied sensibly that to deny his request to announce the marriage soon would be an act of folly on the part of the Protector, since news of it might well leak out, or the couple's clandestine meetings would be noticed. Either would cause a scandal which would touch the entire Seymour clan and discredit the family, the last thing the Protector would want.

Katherine emphasised that she did not want the Admiral to beg for his brother's goodwill if it was not given freely from the first. It would be better if he obtained letters from the King in his favour, and also the support of certain members of the Privy Council, if possible, 'which thing shall be no small shame to your brother and loving sister if they do not the like'. Next time he visited her, she said, he must come early in the morning and be gone by seven o'clock, having warned her beforehand of the time of his arrival, so that she could 'wait at the gate of the field for you'.

This state of affairs could not and did not last very much longer. At the end of May, when Somerset fulfilled his promise and came to dine with the Queen at Chelsea, she informed him of her marriage. He, in turn, broke the news to the Council. 'The Lord Protector was much offended,' noted the King in his journal, mainly because of the threat to the succession but also because he had not been consulted. The matter was debated at great length by the Privy Council, it being argued that, if the Queen was already pregnant, 'a great doubt' would exist as to 'whether the child born should have been accounted the late King's or [the Admiral's], whereby a marvellous danger might have ensued to the quiet of the realm'. Lord Sudeley was summoned to account for his actions, but at the end of the day there was little anyone could do. The marriage had been lawfully solemnised before witnesses and consummated. It was, anyway, late May: King Henry had been dead for four months, and his widow showed no signs of pregnancy, which was fortunate for the Admiral and for Katherine, for it meant that the Protector was prepared to 543.

overlook the small risk to the succession occasioned by their marriage. All the same, Somerset made his displeasure clear, and his wife was mortified at the news. The only person who remained calm was the young King, who, on 30 May, in defiance of the advice of his Council, took it upon himself to write and congratulate Queen Katherine upon her marriage, and to thank her for the many letters she had sent him since she left court. In his letter, he spoke affectionately of 'the great love' she had borne his father, her goodwill towards himself, and lastly her 'G.o.dliness and knowledge in learning and the scriptures'. If there was 'anything wherein I may do you a kindness, either in word or deed,' he ended, 'I will do it willingly.'

Katherine responded by begging the King to plead her case with the Council, which he did at the beginning of June, saying that he had known for some time that the Admiral intended marrying the Queen, and that he had sent a letter signifying his approval to Katherine. He did not divulge that the Admiral, knowing he was kept short of funds, had paid him well to do so, nor did he say that he had so phrased his letter as to request his stepmother to accept the Admiral in marriage, thus leaving her - as a loyal subject - no alternative. Against the authority of the King, Somerset was powerless; he was also a peace-loving man who loathed dissension, and he was glad enough to be reconciled with his brother and new sister-in-law. Thus he and the Council grudgingly sanctioned the marriage, giving the Admiral leave to take up residence at Chelsea with his wife.

Naturally, many people were scandalised when news of the marriage leaked out at court, and none more so than the Lady Mary, whose respect for Katherine Parr was shattered in a single blow.

Mary received a letter from the Admiral asking for her to use her influence to gain him favour with the Council, and also begging her to persuade the Queen to agree to the immediate public proclamation of their marriage. Mary was horrified at his impertinence, and dispatched a frigid reply, saying: It standeth least with my poor honour to be a meddler in this matter, considering whose wife her Grace was of late. If the remembrance of the King's Majesty will not suffer her to grant 544 your suit, I am nothing able to persuade her to forget the loss of him who is yet very ripe in mine own remembrance.

Where matters of the heart were concerned, she said, 'being a maid, I am nothing cunning'. By the time the Admiral received Mary's reply, he no longer needed her help and could afford to ignore her as Katherine had come round to his way of thinking and agreed that their marriage should be made public. She grieved, nevertheless, for the loss of Mary's friendship, fearing that her marriage and the widening religious gulf between them would ensure that it was never likely to be regained.

It then occurred to Mary that her sister Elizabeth might put herself morally at risk by contact with their stepmother; Mary was determined to protect her innocence and prevent her from a.s.sociating with Katherine, and she wrote at once to Elizabeth, warning her against contact with such wickedness and begging her to think of her own reputation. But Elizabeth, who was fond of her stepmother and had good reason to know why she had fallen prey to the Admiral's charm, would only write a non-committal reply saying she shared Mary's just grief in seeing the 'scarcely cold body of the King our father so shamefully dishonoured by the Queen our stepmother', and that she could not express 'how much affliction I suffered when I was first informed of this marriage'. However, she rationalised, neither she nor Mary were 'in such condition as to offer any obstacle thereto', and the Seymours were all powerful, having 'got all the authority into their hands'. In her opinion, the best course to take was one of dissimulation and 'making the best of what we cannot remedy'. With regard to visiting the Queen, 'the position in which I stand' and 'the Queen having shown me so much affection' obliged her to 'use much tact in maneuvering with her, for fear of appearing ungrateful for her benefits. I shall not, however, be in any hurry to visit her, lest I should be charged with approving what I ought to censure.' In other words, she would bide her time until the furore had died down, and then do as she pleased.

Although she had married a mere baron, Katherine was yet ent.i.tled to retain and enjoy all the privileges of queenship, and now that she was known to be respectably married, she saw no reason why she should not go to court with her new husband from time to 545.

time and take her rightful place there. Accordingly, she moved the Admiral to request his brother the Protector to deliver to her the jewels traditionally worn by the queens of England, which were at that time in safe keeping in the Treasury. It was Katherine's legal right to wear them until such time as King Edward had a consort of his own, but the d.u.c.h.ess of Somerset had already decided that, as wife of the Lord Protector, the jewels would adorn her own person and not that of her sister-in-law. When she heard of the Queen's request, she saw the perfect opportunity to have her revenge, and wasted no time in putting pressure on her husband to make him refuse the Admiral's request.

Somerset dithered. The Admiral, impatient now, complained to the Council, saying the Protector should 'let me have mine own'. Of course, he knew very well - as did Katherine - who was causing the trouble, and when it came to a deadlock he did not hesitate to name her. From that time onwards, it was open warfare between the d.u.c.h.ess and the Queen. According to the Elizabethan historian William Camden, Anne Stanhope bore Katherine Parr 'such invincible hatred', and had done since the days they had sparred over 'light causes and women's quarrels'. Now the root cause of her enmity was jealousy because Katherine had precedence over her. She was to prove, in every respect, a formidable enemy.

When Katherine Parr returned to court for a visit in June, the d.u.c.h.ess was waiting for her. The Queen had still not been given her jewels, and was feeling annoyed. Nevertheless, she insisted on being shown every deference due to her rank, and commanded the d.u.c.h.ess to carry her train for her. This was a duty to which great honour was attached, but the d.u.c.h.ess only understood that she was being put very firmly in her place. Livid, she refused, saying 'It was unsuitable for her to submit to perform that service for the wife of her husband's younger brother.' Katherine bore the insult in silence, but she did not forget it. After that the d.u.c.h.ess made no secret of her animosity and did all she could to undermine the respect in which many people at court still held the Queen and to blacken her reputation. She would recall how the late King had married Katherine Parr 'in his doting days, when he had brought himself so low by his l.u.s.t and cruelty that no lady who stood on her honour would venture on him.' Why, therefore, should she herself give 546.

place 'to her who in her former estate was but Larimer's widow, and is now fain to cast herself for support upon a younger brother? If Master Admiral teach his brother no better manners, I am she that will!'

While her husband was away at court, Katherine received a letter from the Lord Protector telling her she could not have the jewels. The Queen knew very well why not, and flew into a fury, only calming down to write and tell her husband the news.

My lord your brother hath this afternoon made me a little warm! [she fumed] It was fortunate we were so much distant, for I suppose else I should have bitten him! What cause have they to fear, having such a wife? It is requisite for them to pray continually for a short despatch of that h.e.l.l. Tomorrow, or else upon Sat.u.r.day, I will see the King, when I intend to utter all my choler to my lord your brother, if you shall not give me advice to the contrary.

It seems, however, that either the Admiral advised his wife against such a course, or she changed her mind about going, perhaps fearing another public snub by the d.u.c.h.ess of Somerset.

After that supreme insult, Katherine refused to return to the court, remaining at Chelsea until she and her husband moved to the country a year later. Her reign was effectively over - that much had been made clear to her. Happy in her marriage and with time to pursue her intellectual interests, she was in fact content enough now to play the role of private gentlewoman.

On 25 June, Katherine received a letter from the King, telling her she need not fear any further recriminations regarding her marriage to Sudeley, and a.s.suring her that 'I will so provide for you both that if hereafter any grief befall, I shall be a sufficient succour in your G.o.dly and praisable enterprises.' It gave the young King great pleasure to think of himself as the instigator of a marriage that had brought his stepmother and his favourite uncle such happiness and, although in reality he was powerless to help them further - for example, he was unable to arrange for Katherine's jewels to be restored to her - the knowledge of his goodwill was a comfort to the Queen. He wrote whenever he could, which was not often for he 547was rarely 'half an hour alone', and when he could not write, he sent a message of goodwill. In return, the Admiral supplied him secretly with pocket money, of which the Protector kept him very short. This only increased Edward's grat.i.tude, and the Admiral was hopeful that, when the day came for him to propose a marriage between the King and the Lady Jane Grey, Edward would be more than amenable. The Admiral had not abandoned his master plan; he had only to wait, and in time Lord Dorset would come running.

Somerset realised he had acted unfairly, yet he dared not risk offending his wife, who was so jubilant now that victory was hers. Instead, as compensation for the loss of the jewels, he conferred upon his brother the office of Captain General and Protector's Lieutenant in the South of England, and in that same month of August made a grant to him of the manor of Sudeley, with the castle. The Admiral was delighted; situated just south of the village of Winchcombe in Gloucestershire, and set in a beautiful park, the main fabric of the castle dated from the late fifteenth century, and had been grafted on to an earlier manor house by Richard III. It had a chapel, and was in every way a residence fit for a queen with an ambitious husband. Today, much of what can be seen at Sudeley is a Victorian reconstruction, though the ruins of part of the old castle remain to give some idea of what it must have been like in Katherine's day.

The Admiral gave orders immediately for the castle to be renovated and made ready for occupation; he and the Queen hoped it would be habitable within a year, then they could escape from the hostile climate of London and the court for a while to lead the lives of wealthy country gentry. For the present, Katherine spent her time reading, writing or at her devotions. Her second book,The Lamentations of a Sinner,was now completed, and both her brother, Lord Northampton, and her friend, the d.u.c.h.ess of Suffolk, urged her to have it printed. She agreed to do so, and in November the first copies went on sale with an introduction by a young lawyer called William Cecil, who would later become Queen Elizabeth's councillor Lord Burleigh. Cecil wrote that he joined all 'ladies of estate' in following 'our Queen in virtue as in honour' in order to taste 'everlasting bliss'. The book was an even greater success thanPrayers and Meditationshad been, and was highly praised by scholars 548everywhere, thus sustaining Catherine's reputation as a woman of learning.

It was at this time that she invited her stepdaughter Elizabeth to join her household at Chelsea. Elizabeth had been at court, but she had not been very happy there. The introduction of rigid ceremonial required her to drop on one knee five times in front of her brother before seating herself on a mean bench far from his side. The Queen was probably aware of Elizabeth's situation, and sought to rescue her, and Elizabeth responded with enthusiasm, arriving at Chelsea early in the new year of 1548. The scandal surrounding the Queen's remarriage had long since died down, and her stepdaughter saw no reason why she should not move in with her. Katherine thought it an ideal arrangement: she could oversee Elizabeth's education once more, chaperon her through her development to womanhood, and enjoy the stimulating company of her excellent mind.

Katherine's decision to invite Elizabeth into her household was to precipitate a tragedy. She had no idea,ofcourse, that her husband had once tried to marry Elizabeth, still less that he had seen her as an infinitely more desirable catch than a dowager queen. It never occurred to her that this slight young girl of fourteen would hold any attraction for the Admiral. From the first, the situation was fraught. In spite of herself, Elizabeth was fascinated by the handsome 'stepfather' - as the Admiral was pleased to call himself - who welcomed her with undisguised affection to her new home, and wasted no time in making it clear to her that he found her both stimulating and desirable.

He took care to conceal this from his wife, who so implicitly trusted him that she suspected nothing. She regarded Elizabeth as a child still, the orphan she had taken under her wing, an innocent whom she could guide and nurture and who would be a cherished daughter to both Katherine and her husband. The Admiral had other ideas. So did Elizabeth. As the short winter days lengthened, so did their mutual attraction develop, under the guise of an affectionate relationship between stepfather and daughter. There was no outward hint of the s.e.xual tension between them. Both knew that if they acknowledged it they risked wounding the woman who meant a great deal to both of them.

Coc.o.o.ned in her marriage, Katherine settled into her new life, a 549.

stepmother once more. On 15 January 1548, she and the Admiral attended her brother's wedding to Elizabeth Brooke, the daughter of Lord Cobham. Then, in February, the Admiral again approached Lord Dorset about the wardship of the Lady Jane Grey. To sweeten Dorset, he had installed in the Old Manor his aged mother, Lady Seymour, who would treat Jane 'as if she were her own daughter'. As for Queen Katherine, she would be only too happy to order Jane's education, and the Lady Elizabeth would provide eminently suitable companionship. It all looked very respectable, and this time Dorset leaped at the chance, as the Admiral had known he would.

Thus Jane came to join the household at Chelsea. It was a welcome change for her. She was at last out of the clutches of the parents who had made her life a misery, and of whom she strongly disapproved. There were no beatings at Chelsea, no harsh words. The Queen, the Admiral, and the Lady Elizabeth all seemed intent on enjoying their peaceful existence there, and Lady Seymour was like an affectionate grandmother. Jane could freely follow the Protestant faith to which she was devoted, and there was also freedom to study without the ever-present fear of parental criticism.

Jane was a small, thin child, yet graceful. She had small features and a well-shaped nose, with arched eyebrows darker than her hair, which was of a reddish colour. She had sparkling eyes and freckles, and to some extent resembled her cousin Elizabeth, with whom she took her lessons. The Queen herself supervised the girls' studies, and was careful to appoint tutors who would cultivate the proper att.i.tudes to religion and learning in their minds. Katherine won so much praise for her endeavours in this respect that other ladies of n.o.ble birth did their best to emulate her, and not long afterwards Nicholas Udall, the Provost of Eton College, was writing to the Queen with the highest praise for what she had achieved through her influence.

When I consider, most gracious Queen Katherine [he wrote], the great number of n.o.ble women in this our time and country of England, not only given to the study of human sciences and of strange tongues, but also so thoroughly expert in Holy Scriptures, that they are able to compare with the best writers, as well in penning of G.o.dly and fruitful treatises to the instruction and 550 edifying of the whole realm in the knowledge of G.o.d, as also in translating good books out of Latin or Greek into English for the use of such as are rude and ignorant of the said tongues, it is now no news at all to see queens and ladies of most high estate and progeny, instead of courtly dalliance, embrace virtuous exercises, reading and writing, and with most earnest study, apply themselves to the acquiring of knowledge.

Katherine's own household, he went on, was famous as the place 'where it is now a common thing to see young virgins so trained in the study of good letters that they willingly set all other vain pastimes at naught for learning's sake.' This much had Katherine accomplished for her own s.e.x, whose education had by now been freed from many of the taboos formerly attached to it. Thanks to the Queen's influence, the learned female had become fashionable, and a pattern had been set for the future.

In February, Elizabeth asked her stepmother if she might have the renowned Roger Ascham as her tutor instead of Mr Grindal. Katherine, who had long corresponded with Ascham on scholarly matters, warmly approved of the change and Ascham arrived at Chelsea later that month, after Katherine and her husband had gone to stay at the London house of Lord and Lady Herbert. There was a family scandal brewing, and the Parrs were taking counsel together. It was only a month since William Parr, the Marquess of Northampton, had married Elizabeth Brooke, yet already it was being alleged by the Privy Council that his divorce from Anne Bourchier had not been legal. When this was confirmed, Northampton was ordered to put away his new wife, and never speak to her again on pain of death, as his true wife was still living. This was a blow for Parr, and a grievous disappointment for Katherine, since it was she, along with the d.u.c.h.ess of Suffolk, who had suggested and promoted the union with Elizabeth Brooke. Yet there was nothing that she or anyone else could do about this new situation, and before very long the Admiral took her back to Chelsea.

Then, early in March 1548, after more than twenty years of married life with four husbands, Katherine Parr discovered that she was at long last to have a child. Both she and the Admiral were delighted. Good wishes came pouring in, as well as plenty of 551 advice and warnings to take care of herself, for she was, by the standards of her time, well into middle age and rather old to be having a first child. Nevertheless, she seems to have enjoyed good health throughout most of her pregnancy.

So wrapped up was the Queen in her personal happiness, that she failed to notice what was going on under her nose. For her husband, considering his wife to be suitably occupied with approaching motherhood, had now renewed his pursuit of the Lady Elizabeth. The Queen did not realise that while she was at her daily prayers, which took place regularly each morning and afternoon, her husband would always be elsewhere, nor did she suspect anything when Elizabeth began making excuses to be absent. The Admiral would openly romp with Elizabeth in front of members of the household, so that no one would think anything of it, and when he and the Queen stayed with Elizabeth at Seymour Place in London that spring, he went up to Elizabeth's bedroom every morning, wearing only his night-gown and slippers, and burst in, regardless of whether or not she was in bed. Her lady-in-waiting, Mrs Katherine Ashley, was present, and was immediately suspicious, thinking it 'an unseemly sight to see a man so little dressed in a maiden's chamber'. She made her feelings very clear to the Admiral, which angered him, but he did at least go away on that occasion. What really disturbed Mrs Ashley, according to her later deposition to the Privy Council, was that he only stayed if Elizabeth was in bed; if he found her up and dressed, he would just look in at the gallery door, then leave.

Lord Sudeley was irritated by Mrs Ashley's att.i.tude, but he was undeterred by it, and it only served to make him all the more determined to have what he wanted. Elizabeth was ripe for seduction and probably willing enough; she was at a highly impressionable age, and very flattered that the dashing Admiral's attentions were focused upon her. Not for nothing was she Anne Boleyn's daughter, and male admiration was already the breath of life to her, while her budding s.e.xuality was aroused. It is likely that she was rather frightened at the prospect of the s.e.x act itself, and yet equally likely that her pa.s.sion for the Admiral would have overcome her fear and her good sense, given time.

The morning visits continued, to Mrs Ashley's dismay. The Admiral would go into Elizabeth's bedchamber and tickle her as she 552lay in her bed, clad only in her night-gown. Once he tried to kiss her, but Mrs Ashley was there and ordered him out 'for shame'. However, he was back the next morning, and most mornings thereafter. What was more, Elizabeth did not rebuff him; she was thoroughly enjoying it. Soon, matters had reached the stage where the Admiral would bid her good morning, ask how she did, and smack her on the back or b.u.t.tocks with great familiarity. Then he would go back to his rooms, or go to the maids' room and flirt with them.

The Queen saw nothing wrong in all this. Her husband had told her about it, knowing full well that she still regarded her stepdaughter as a child. She raised no protest when she heard that the Admiral would pull apart Elizabeth's bed-curtains and 'make as though he would come at her', causing her to shrink back giggling into the bed to avoid being tickled. The Admiral said it was harmless, and the Queen believed him. Mrs Ashley, however, was not so sure; and she was concerned about her charge's reputation. One day, when the Admiral chased Elizabeth out from behind the bed-curtains where she had hidden with her maids, the lady-in-waiting spoke to him, and said there had been complaints about his behaviour and that 'my lady was evil spoken of', presumably among the servants. The Admiral answered that he would report to the Protector 'how I am slandered,' but Mrs Ashley insisted she herself must always be present whenever he entered Elizabeth's bedchamber, and made certain from then on that she was.

But the romps continued. Sometimes, even the Queen joined in. When they were at Anne Boleyn's old manor of Hanworth in the spring, Katherine accompanied her husband to Elizabeth's room on two mornings, and joined in the tickling, amid peals of laughter. While still at Hanworth, the Admiral chased Elizabeth through the gardens; when he caught her, they wrestled together, then Seymour called for shears and cut her black gown into strips, while the Queen, in fits of laughter, held her still. Afterwards, Elizabeth fled indoors where Mrs Ashley asked in horror what had happened to her. Elizabeth told her, and received a telling off, but would only reply that 'it could not be helped'.

Elizabeth's infatuation with the Admiral was becoming quite obvious, and she was too young to have the guile to conceal it. This 553concerned Seymour, for obvious reasons, so, in order to divert any suspicion from himself, he told Katherine he had recently seen Elizabeth, through a gallery window, 'with her arms round a man's neck'. The Queen was shocked, and sent for Mrs Ashley, who divulged nothing of what she suspected but advised Katherine to speak to the girl herself. She did so, but Elizabeth burst into tears and denied that such a thing had ever happened, begging her stepmother to ask all her women if it were true. She had little opportunity for such things, as she was hardly ever alone, and the only men who came into contact with her, apart from servants, were her schoolmasters and the Admiral.

At once, the Queen's suspicions were aroused. If Elizabeth was telling the truth, her husband must be lying, and why should he do this but to protect himself? Suddenly, like pieces in a jigsaw, the truth dawned upon Katherine with terrible clarity. Everything now made sense, the morning romps, Elizabeth's behaviour, Mrs Ashley's tight-lipped disapproval. She had no proof that the affair had proceeded beyond a mere romp, but there was no doubt in her mind that her husband was after Elizabeth, and that he was the kind of man who would seduce her if the opportunity presented itself. It was therefore imperative that she take some action to protect the girl, who was, after all, under her roof and in her care.

The Queen now sent for Mrs Ashley, and confided her suspicions to her, telling her to 'take more heed, and be as it were in watch betwixt the Lady Elizabeth and the Admiral'. Mrs Ashley was relieved that Katherine was now in command of the situation, and also to know she did not suspect it to have progressed very far. Later that day she told Sir Thomas Parry, who was in charge of Elizabeth's financial affairs, that 'the Admiral had loved the Princess[sic]too well, and had done so a good while', but his bluff was about to be called. Parry, too, promised to be watchful.

Katherine's happiness was shattered. Whether or not the Admiral had actually been unfaithful to her did not matter: it was his intention that had hurt her. Yet she hid her feelings well, hoping against hope that she had been wrong. It was not long, however, before she had her worst suspicions confirmed. One day in April at Chelsea, she realised that both her husband and stepdaughter were missing. She went in search of them, throughout that vast house, until at last she came 554 upon them, without warning, alone together, Elizabeth in the Admiral's arms. At the sight of Katherine, they fell apart at once, guilt all over their faces. But it was too late, the Queen had seen enough to tell her that her husband and the girl she had sheltered and mothered had betrayed her. She did not wait to hear their apologies, but left the room and ordered Mrs Ashley to attend her. When the woman came, the Queen told her she was displeased with Elizabeth, and why, and warned her that she would not have the girl in her house any longer than was necessary. When Mrs Ashley had gone, Katherine did not vent her sorrow in tears, nor did she indulge in a tirade of useless recriminations when once again she came face to face with her husband. Withdrawn and cold, she was sustained by her innate dignity and never betrayed by word or gesture her inner turmoil.

In May, Elizabeth left Chelsea for her manor of Cheston. Her guilt lay heavily upon her conscience, and far outweighed any attraction she had felt for the Admiral. Their affair was over, that much was obvious. He had made no attempt to see her, and she welcomed this, for it made things much easier. She told Mrs Ashley that she had 'loved the Admiral too well', and that the Queen was jealous of them both.

Before her departure, she had one last painful interview with Katherine. Her stepmother was aloof and cool, and made no reference to the reason for her going. She merely said, 'G.o.d has given you great qualities. Cultivate them always, and labour to improve them, for I believe you are destined by Heaven to be Queen of England.' Elizabeth kissed her, and was gone, unable to bear Katherine's coldness.

When she arrived at Cheston, Elizabeth was told by Mrs Ashley that the Admiral would have married her, if he had had the chance, rather than the Queen. Elizabeth asked how she knew that, whereupon Mrs Ashley told her 'she knew it well, both by herself and others'. Before very long, it was common knowledge, and caused further grief to Queen Katherine; what was worse, however, were the rumours that had suddenly sprung up regarding Elizabeth's relationship with the Admiral. There were tales of illicit meetings, criminal intercourse, even of a child born in great secrecy. Such tales, most of them fabrications, probably originated with the servants'

555 gossip at Chelsea, yet they captured the imagination of the public. It would be another year, however, before the government took them seriously and the storm broke.

Not long after her arrival at Cheston, Elizabeth fell sick and took to her bed, which gave the rumourmongers further food for thought; however, she was up and about by July. In the meantime, she had received a letter from the Admiral, taking the blame for what had happened upon himself, and swearing to testify to her innocence if necessary. No words of love adorned his letter or her reply, in which she wrote, 'You need not to send an excuse to me', and ended 'I pray you to make my humble commendations to the Queen's Highness.' By telling the Admiral she was committing 'you and your affairs into G.o.d's hand', she was in effect telling him that all familiarity between them must cease; and while his wife lived, the Admiral took her at her word. Elizabeth saw now that she had not only caused terrible hurt to the Queen, but had also risked her reputation and her place in the succession. Never again would she be so stupid.

After Elizabeth's departure, Katherine made an effort to forget what had happened and rebuild her shaken marriage. Thanks to her determination, relations between her and her husband improved, a.s.sisted by the Queen's advancing pregnancy and the shared pleasure of antic.i.p.ating the birth of their child. Early in June, the Admiral's duties called him to court, so Katherine went away to Hanworth for a few days, and while she was there, she felt her child move inside her for the first time. It was a joyful moment, and did much to erase her unhappy memories of the spring. With renewed affection, she wrote to her husband: Sweetheart and loving husband, I gave your little knave your blessing, who like an honest man stirred apace after and before; for Mary Odell [the midwife, who was already in attendance], being abed with me, laid her hand on my belly to feel it stir. It has stirred these three days every morning and evening, so that I trust when you come it will make you some pastime. And thus I end, bidding my sweetheart and loving husband better to fare than myself.

556The Admiral replied on 9 June that Katherine's letter had 'revived my spirits'. He was still trying, with little success, to get Somerset to agree to restoring her jewels to her. Hearing that 'my little man doth shake his poll', he trusted that 'If G.o.d should give him a life as long as his father's, he will revenge such wrongs as neither you nor I can at present.' He had spoken to Somerset, he said, and had 'so well handled him' that the Duke was no longer so sure of his ground, and had said that 'At the finishingofthe matter, you shall either have your own again, or else some recompense as ye shall be content withal.' He ended his letter with instructions to Katherine to keep the little knave [i.e. the baby] so lean and gaunt with your good diet and walking that he may be so small that he may creep out of a mouse-hole! And I bid my most dear and well- beloved wife most heartily well to fare. Your Highness' most faithful, loving husband, T. Seymour.

It is obvious from this letter that the Admiral was doing his best to regain the love and respect of his wife, especially now she was about to bear him, he hoped, an heir. And it is obvious from Katherine's letter, too, that she was happy to pretend that all was well between them. An uneasy peace had been achieved. But underneath, her wound was still raw.

Chelsea held too many painful memories, and so the Admiral had decided to take the Queen to Sudeley Castle, where their child would be born. He returned from court on 11 June, and on Wednesday, 13 June they set off for Gloucestershire. When they reached their new home, a letter from John Fowler awaited them, enclosing one from the King. Edward sent his commendations to his stepmother and to the Admiral, and informed them that the d.u.c.h.ess of Somerset had just given birth to 'a fine boy', to be named after the King and after her elder son, born eleven years before, who had died in childhood. This was encouraging news for Katherine, whose own confinement was now not many weeks off.

The Queen soon settled into the peaceful routine of life in the country. Then a letter arrived from Elizabeth, who wrote 'giving thanks for the manifold kindnesses received at your Highness's hand 557.

at my departure' and saying how 'truly I was replete with sorrow to depart from your Highness' and that I weighed it deeply when you said you would warn me of all evilnesses that you should hear of me; for if your Grace had not a good opinion of me, you would not have offered friendship to me that way at all, meaning the contrary.

There was more, in the same appealing and penitential vein, and the letter was signed 'Your Highness's humble daughter, Elizabeth'. It was undoubtedly a plea for forgiveness, and Katherine sensibly realised that Elizabeth had never intended her any real harm; she had lost her head over a handsome man who should have known better. With this in mind, Katherine could not remain angry any longer, and even though she had hurt her wrist, which was so weak that she could hardly hold the pen, she wrote a warm reply, a.s.suring her stepdaughter of her friendship. The Admiral wrote also, at his wife's request.

Elizabeth replied on 31 July, saying Katherine's letter was 'most joyful to me', although she was concerned to hear 'what pain it is to you to write', and would have been happy to receive her 'commendations' in the Admiral's letter. She rejoiced, she said, to learn of Katherine's otherwise excellent health and enjoyment of life in the country, and was grateful to the Admiral for undertaking to let her know from time to time 'how his busy child doth; if I were at his birth, no doubt I would see him beaten, for the trouble he hath put you to!' And with the pa.s.sing on of good wishes for 'a lucky deliverance' from Mrs Ashley and others, Elizabeth ended her letter, 'giving your Highness most humble thanks for your commendations'.

There was no question, of course, of Elizabeth rejoining Katherine's household. Yet the Queen did not lack for company in these final weeks of her pregnancy. Lady Jane Grey was still with her and like a daughter, and many of her old friends and acquaintances made the long journey from London to visit her; in fact, Sudeley Castle quickly became renowned as the second court in the realm because it was so well populated with the n.o.bility and because the Admiral spared no expense in providing hospitality or in maintaining his 558wife's royal estate. They had, after all, more than 8,000 a year to live on, a princely sum in those days. Most welcome of all were Katherine's old friends, Sir Robert and Lady Tyrwhitt, and it was to Sir Robert that the Queen mentioned one day, when they were walking in the gardens, and Sir Robert was admiring the scenery and[the castle, that when the King came of age he would ask for the return of Sudeley Castle. Sir Robert was dismayed to learn that the Queen might have to leave her beautiful home, and asked, 'Then will Sudeley Castle be gone from my Lord Admiral?' Katherine smiled, and told him that she had the King's promise that, if he recalled all the lands deeded away by the regency Council he would freely return Sudeley when that time came.

It was now August, and the Queen's child was due within the month. Mostofher visitors tactfully departed, leaving only the Tyrwhitts and a few other faithful friends in attendance. Katherine spent much of her time with Lady Jane Grey, of whom she was very fond, and there had been, of late, a reconciliation with the Lady Mary, whose disapproval of Katherine's remarriage had melted as soon as she heard that her stepmother was to bear a child. Again, the two women had begun to correspond, and in the middle of August William Parr arrived at Sudeley with another letter from Mary, who was going to Norfolk and would not return until Michaelmas, 'at which time, or shortly after, I trust to hear good success of your Grace's great belly, and in the meantime shall desire much to hear of your health.' And with commendations to the Admiral, she signed herself 'Your Highness's humble and a.s.sured loving daughter.'

Katherine was therefore seemingly at peace with the world when, on 30 August 1548, her child was born at Sudeley Castle. It turned out to be no 'little knave', but a daughter, who was afterwards christened Mary, in honour of her stepsister, the Lady Mary. It was a difficult birth, and Katherine was very weak afterwards, although her physicians and the midwife, Mary Odell, were optimistic about her recovery.

The Admiral was naturally disappointed that the child was a girl, but it was not long before he was doting upon the baby, and sending the news of her birth by fast courier to the Protector. Somerset was 559right glad to understand by your letters that the Queen, your bedfellow, hath a happy hour, and, escaping all danger, hath made you the father of so pretty a daughter; and although (if it had pleased G.o.d) it would have been both to us and (we suppose) also to you more joy and comfort if it had, this first-born, been a son, yet the escape of the danger, and the prophecy of this to a great sort of happy sons is no small joy and comfort to us, as we are sure it is to you and her Grace also, to whom you shall make again our hearty commendations, with no less congratulation of such good success. From Syon, the 1st of Sept., 1548. Your loving brother, E. Somerset.

Of course, the d.u.c.h.ess of Somerset was delighted that Katherine Parr had borne a daughter; had not she herself presented her husband with a fine son, triumphing where Katherine had failed?

There was no thought of failure, or even of success, in the mind of the Queen by then. Hours after the birth, she was laid low with puerperal fever, that scourge of medieval and Tudor childbeds, and remained delirious for almost a week. With each pa.s.sing day, it became more obvious that she was not going to recover. In her delirium, she spoke of her anguish over her husband's faithlessness and betrayal, which was to trouble her to the end, and which she no longer had the strength or wit to conceal. On 5 September, Lady Tyrwhitt went into the Queen's bedchamber to bid her good morning and see if there was any improvement in her condition. Katherine was half lucid, and asked Lady Tyrwhitt where she had been for so long, saying 'that she did fear such things in herself that she was sure she could not live'. Lady Tyrwhitt replied, with feigned confidence, 'that I saw no likelihood of death in her.' But Katherine was not listening; she was back at Chelsea, reliving the moment when she had found her husband and Elizabeth in an embrace. The Admiral was by the bed, and she grasped his hand, saying, 'My Lady Tyrwhitt, I am not well handled, for those that are about me care not for me, but stand laughing at my grief, and the more good I will to them, the less good they will to me.'

There was shocked silence, then the Admiral hastened to rea.s.sure her, saying, 'Why, sweetheart! I would you no hurt!' To which 560 Katherine replied, with heavy irony, 'No, my lord, I think so.' Then, as he leaned over her, she whispered, 'But, my lord, you have given me many shrewd taunts.' Lady Tyrwhitt remembered afterwards that she said these words 'with good memory, and very sharply and earnestly, for her mind was sore disquieted'. The Admiral pretended not to hear, and, taking Lady Tyrwhitt aside, asked her what his wife had said; 'I declared plainly to him,' she recalled. He asked if she thought he should lie down on the bed with the Queen 'and pacify her unhappiness with gentle communication'. Lady Tyrwhitt agreed this might be a good thing, whereupon the Admiral lay down and put his arms around his wife, soothing her with words of love, without regard to the presence of her ladies. He had not, however, said more than three or four words when Katherine burst out, 'My lord, I would have given a thousand marks to have had my full talk with [Dr Robert] Huicke [her physician] the first day I was delivered, but I durst not, for displeasing you.' What she actually wanted to discuss with Huicke we shall never know, but Lady Tyrwhitt guessed that it was something of a very personal nature, possibly about the resumption or otherwise of s.e.xual relations after the difficult confinement, and because of this, and her realisation that Katherine's agony of mind was very great, Lady Tyrwhitt tactfully withdrew out of earshot: 'My heart would serve me to hear no more.' The Queen's tirade against the Admiral continued for more than an hour, and was heard by the ladies about her bedside, though they did not leave accounts of it for posterity. Later that day, Katherine's fever subsided, leaving her with no recollection of what she had said. She was very weak, and realised, with her usual common sense, that she was dying, and that it would be best to make her will now, while she was in possession of her senses. Writing materials were brought by her secretary, and the Queen dictated: I, Katherine Parr, etc., lying on my death-bed, sick of body but of good mind and perfect memory and discretion, being persuaded and perceiving the extremity of death to approach me, give all to my married spouse and husband, wishing them to be a thousand times more in value than they are or been.

561The will was then signed by the Queen and witnessed by Dr Huicke and her chaplain, John Parkhurst, who gave her the last rites soon afterwards. We do not know if the Queen asked to see her baby daughter before the end, nor are her last words recorded, nor any details of her death, which occurred the following day, 7 September 1548, between two and three in the morning.

The Admiral was genuinely grieved at her pa.s.sing, and gave orders for her body to be buried in the castle chapel. The corpse was embalmed, dressed in rich clothes, and wrapped in cerecloth, then placed in a lead coffin and left in the Queen's privy chamber until arrangements for the funeral had been completed. Young Jane Grey shed bitter tears over it, not only for the woman who had been a better mother to her than her own, but also because Katherine's death meant she would have to return home, a prospect that appalled her.

On the morning of 8 September, Katherine Parr was laid to rest. The chapel was hung with black cloth embroidered with the Queen's escutcheons; the altar rails were covered in black cloth, and stools and cushions provided for the mourners. The coffin was preceded into the chapel by two conductors in black carrying black staves, gentlemen, squires, knights, officers of the household carrying white staves, gentlemen ushers, and Somerset Herald in a tabard. Six gentlemen in black gowns and hoods bore the body, with torchbearers at either side, hooded knights walking at each corner. The Lady Jane Grey, acting as chief mourner, came next, her train borne by a young lady, then six other ladies, and other ladies and gentlemen, walking in pairs, then yeomen and lesser folk. Etiquette prevented the bereaved husband from attending.

When the coffin had been set down between the altar rails, psalms were sung in English and three lessons read; after the third, the mourners placed their offerings in the almsbox. Then Dr Miles Coverdale, the Queen's confessor, preached the sermon and led the prayers. When he was finished, the coffin was lowered into a vault beneath the altar pavement while the choir sang theTe Deum.After the service, the mourners went back to the castle for dinner, and then departed, leaving the Admiral to his memories in the great house that now seemed so empty. His servant Edward informed the Lady Elizabeth that 'my lord is a heavy man for the loss of the Queen his 562wife', but if the Admiral had hoped to find her willing to console him, he was quickly to be disappointed for there was no reply from her. For all this, his thoughts were very much with the woman who lay not far from him in her tomb, and he was heard to vow that 'no one should speak ill of the Queen, or if he knew it, he would take his fist to the ears of those who did, from the highest to the lowest.' At length, he returned to the world of men and affairs, and early in 1549 joined the English army at Musselburgh to do battle against the Scots. Yet not even his valorous performance in combat could dispel the whispers about his lack of scruples, nor the rumour, spread by Thomas Parry, 'that he had treated the late Queen cruelly, dishonestly, and jealously'.

As time pa.s.sed his grief- which was undoubtedly sincere - faded. Memories grew dim. The d.u.c.h.ess of Somerset told him that if any grudge were borne by her to him, it was all for the late Queen's sake, and now she was taken by death, it would undoubtedly follow that she, the d.u.c.h.ess, would bear as good will to him as ever before.

With Katherine's memory daily receding, the Admiral patched up the feud and returned again to court, taking the first of many ill- considered steps that would, in 1549, lead him to the block for having schemed to gain control of the young King. When news was brought to her of his death, the Lady Elizabeth merely commented, 'This day died a man of much wit, and very little judgement.'

Lady Jane Grey mourned her benefactress most sincerely, and when she had returned to her parents' house, she wrote to thank the Admiral for 'all such good behaviour as she learned by the Queen's most virtuous instruction'. She, too, was fated to die violently, at only sixteen years of age, and her months with Katherine Parr were undoubtedly the happiest time in her short life.

Mary and Elizabeth grieved also for the loss of a stepmother who had been unfailingly kind and protective towards them. Mary could never forget what her father owed to Katherine Parr, and often spoke of 'the great love and affection that [he] did bear unto her Grace'. Her death would herald the beginning of a great divide between the sisters, who had once been close but would now gradually grow ever 563.

more suspicious of each other and end as formidable rivals in the dangerous arena of politics and religion.

When, on 20 March 1549, the Lord Admiral was executed for high treason, his seven-month-old daughter, Lady Mary Seymour, was left an orphan. Nor was this the only calamity that befell her, for later that month Parliament pa.s.sed an Act disinheriting the child. The dispossessed baby was taken in by her late mother's friend, the d.u.c.h.ess of Suffolk, to be brought up with twelve other orphans in her care at her house at Grimsthorpe. Mary's uncle, Lord Northampton, hinted that he would be willing to have the child, but only if the d.u.c.h.ess of Somerset paid him the allowance she and the Duke had promised him for the infant's upkeep. The tight-fisted d.u.c.h.ess, however, would not pay up, and thus the burden of Lady Mary's keep fell upon the d.u.c.h.ess of Suffolk. Within a month, the good woman was finding it too onerous a burden, as, being the daughter of a queen, the child had to be provided with all the trappings suitable to her rank, and these were expensive. The d.u.c.h.ess of Suffolk wrote to William Cecil, who had been a great admirer of Katherine Parr, and asked him to use his influence with the d.u.c.h.ess of Somerset in persuading her to agree to paying the allowance she had promised for the Lady Mary; Lady Suffolk knew that Northampton would never take her without it, for he 'hath as weak a back for such a burden as I have'.

Despite Cecil's pleas, the allowance was not forthcoming. Anne Somerset did send her servant, Richard Bertie (who later married the d.u.c.h.ess of Suffolk) with a message to say that she would be forwarding some nursery plate for her niece; in turn, she wished to see an inventory of all the valuables in use in the child's nursery, so that she could decide for herself what pension was needful. Lady Suffolk was furious when she received this message, and in exasperation wrote to Cecil to say: The Queen's child hath lain, and doth lie, at my house, with her company [i.e. servants] about her, wholly at my charge. I have written to my Lady Somerset at large; there may be some pension allotted to her, according to my lord's Grace's [Somerset's] promise. Now, good Cecil, help at a pinch all that you may help.

564 Enclosed was a parcel containing the requested inventory of all the valuables that had been set aside for the Lady Mary's use when she left Sudeley Castle, as well as a letter from the child's nurse, Mistress Eglonby, demanding wages for herself and her maids, 'so that ye may the better understand that I cry not before I am p.r.i.c.ked', wrote the d.u.c.h.ess, whose coffers were emptying fast.

The inventory of Lady Mary Seymour's effects survives, and provides us with a fascinating account of what a well-born baby was provided with in those days. There were silver pots and goblets in her nursery, a silver salt cellar, eleven silver spoons, a porringer banded in silver, a quilt for the cradle, three pillows and one pair of sheets, three feather beds, three more quilts and sets of sheets, a tester of scarlet, embroidered, with a counterpane of silk serge, and bed- curtains of crimson taffeta, two counterpanes with embroidered pictures for the nurse's bed, six wall-hangings, four carpets to hang over the windows in cold weather, ten more hangings depicting the months of the year, two cushions of cloth of gold and a chair of the same, two stools and a gilded bedstead with tester, counterpanes and curtains (presumably for when the child was too big for a cradle), two 'milk beasts' - probably pewter jugs fashioned like animals which were earmarked as gifts for the two maids looking after the child as and when they married, and a lute. This last may once have belonged to Katherine Parr, and was perhaps used to lull her little daughter to sleep.

The inventory was forwarded by Cecil to the d.u.c.h.ess of Somerset in the summer of 1549. However, not long afterwards her husband the Lord Protector was overthrown by the Duke of Northumberland - formerly John Dudley, Earl of Warwick - and she was no longer able to fulfil any of her promises, even had she wished to, for the Seymours were now in disgrace. Somerset would end his days as his brother had done, on the block, accused of high treason, in 1552. However, a few months after Somerset's fall, Parliament pa.s.sed an Act restoring to Mary all her father's lands and property, though not his t.i.tles. After that, Lady Suffolk's financial troubles were at an end.

Nothing more is recorded in contemporary sources of Katherine Parr's daughter, and it is likely that she died young while still at Grimsthorpe. In the eighteenth century, most of the papers relating to Katherine Parr were destroyed in a fire at Wilton House, where 565 they were stored, a sad loss for historians since they may have held clues to the fate of Katherine's daughter. In the nineteenth century, the historian Agnes Strickland was shown a genealogy belonging to the Lawson family of north-west England, showing that they were descended from a Lady Mary Seymour, who had grown up and married a knight called Sir Edward Bushel, who is known to have been in the household of Anne of Denmark, wife of James I. The evidence for this marriage, however, was based only on a family legend and is unsubstantiated by sixteenth-century sources; it may therefore be discounted. The sad reality was probably that Lady Mary followed her mother to the grave within a few years.

In time, a beautiful tomb was raised by the Admiral over Katherine Parr's remains within the chapel at Sudeley Castle. A marble effigy resembling the Queen was placed on it, and around the sepulchre was written an epitaph composed by her chaplain, Dr Parkhurst, who described her as 'the flower of her s.e.x, renowned, great and wise, a wife by every nuptial virtue known'. Within a hundred years of Katherine's death, the chapel fell into decay, and the tomb was broken up by vandals. In 1782, her coffin was found amid the ruins, and opened. The body was seen to be in a good state of preservation, being clothed in costly burial garments - not a shroud, but a dress. There were shoes on the feet, which were very small. The Queen, it was noted, had been tall - the coffin measured 5' 10" in length - but of delicate build, with long auburn hair. There were traces of beauty in the dead face, the features being perfect on first exposure to the air; however, the process of of decomposition began almost immediately, and the vicar insisted that the body be reinterred. This was done, but inebriated workmen buried it upside down. However, two years later, the body was to be seen outside the chapel, in the remains of the original coffin, and another vicar, Mr Tredway Nash, lamented that he wished 'more respect was paid to the remains of this amiable queen'. He wanted them put into a new coffin and buried elsewhere, so that 'at last her body might rest in peace'. The chapel was by then used for the keeping of rabbits, and was not a suitable place, as the rabbits 'scratch very irreverently about the royal corpse'. It seems, however, that the vicar's plans came to nothing, and that the coffin was merely covered with rubble. decomposition began almost immediately, and the vicar insisted that the body be reinterred. This was done, but inebriated workmen buried it upside down. However, two years later, the body was to be seen outside the chapel, in the remains of the original coffin, and another vicar, Mr Tredway Nash, lamented that he wished 'more respect was paid to the remains of this amiable queen'. He wanted them put into a new coffin and buried elsewhere, so that 'at last her body might rest in peace'. The chapel was by then used for the keeping of rabbits, and was not a suitable place, as the rabbits 'scratch very irreverently about the royal corpse'. It seems, however, that the vicar's plans came to nothing, and that the coffin was merely covered with rubble.

566 By 1817, when the chapel was being restored, local opinion favoured a search being made for the Queen's remains, and the owner of the castle, Lord Chandos, gave his permission. Eventually, the coffin was found: it was badly damaged and found to contain only a skeleton. It was repaired, however, and finally reburied in the Chandos vault within the Chapel. During the reign of Queen Victoria the restoration of the chapel was completed, and Sir George Gilbert Scott was commissioned to design a fine new tomb in the medieval style for Katherine Parr. He made a marble effigy, copied from lost engravings of the original, which was placed on the finished monument in 1862, and this is the tomb we see there today, along with some vivid Victorian stained-gla.s.s windows, depicting Katherine Parr with her last two husbands, Henry VIII and Thomas Seymour. It is a fitting memorial to this most charming of queens.

After the death of Katherine, only one of Henry VIII's wives still lived, Anne of Cleves, who was perhaps the most fortunate, for after her divorce she had lived on in England in peace and contentment, enjoying the respect and affection of her former husband's family. Until the King died in 1547, she knew prosperity also, for her annual allowance of 3,000 was paid regularly, though after Henry's death the payments fell into arrears, and in 1550 so much was owed that Anne was driven to pet.i.tioning Edward VI about it; she was curtly informed, however, that 'the King's Highness, being on his progress, could not be troubled at that time about payments.' Nevertheless, he did authorise some of the debt to be paid soon afterwards, although Anne never received the full balance due to her for those years. In 1552 she complained again, and was granted various lands and manors, the rent from these being intended to supplement her income. Yet, as Anne pointed out, in a letter to her close friend, the Lady Mary, 'I was well contented to have continued without exchange,' to which end she had 'travailed to my great cost and charge almost this twelve months'.

This letter was written at Bletchingly in Surrey, one of the houses granted to Anne of Cleves after the annulment of her marriage. The others were Richmond and Hever, and she seems to have divided her time among all three. Richmond had once been the favourite home of Henry VII, and was by far the largest; after Anne's death, 567.

Elizabeth I would come to love this mellow, red-brick palace on the banks of the Thames, and would die there in 1603. Bletchingly Place was also built of red brick; it had once been in the hands of that Duke of Buckingham who had been executed by Henry VIII in 1521, after which it had come into the possession of the Crown. All that remains of it today is a Tudor gatehouse at Place Farm. Hever Castle, of course, had been the home of Anne Boleyn from childhood until her marriage to the King; it had fallen to the Crown on the death of Anne's father, the Earl of Wiltshire, without heirs, in 1539. Anne of Cleves seems to have favoured it least among her houses, probably because it held too many memories of her unfortunate predecessor. Yet she did go there from time to time; in 1547, Katherine Ba.s.sett, who had entered Anne's household after the latter's divorce, was married to Mr Henry Ashley of Hever, whom she no doubt met when accompanying her mistress on a visit to the castle.

Anne was always welcome at court and therefore able to enjoy the best of both worlds, as an honourary member of the King's family and as a country gentlewoman. She was therefore a witness to the shifting vicissitudes of power and the changing fortunes of the monarchy that characterised the middle years of the sixteenth century. She saw Edward VI decline in health and learned of his death from consumption at the age of fifteen in July 1553. She heard, not long afterwards, how Northumberland had plotted to set the Lady Jane Grey - whom he had married to his son, Lord Guildford Dudley - upon the throne, that he might conserve power for himself and thus preserve the Protestant religion in England. And she learned, with sincere gladness, how the country had rallied to Mary Tudor's cause, and how Mary had overthrown Queen Jane and been herself proclaimed Queen of England. In October 1553, Anne was present at Mary I's coronation in Westminster Abbey, and occupied the same litter as the Lady Elizabeth in the procession to and from the Abbey.

Some months later, Anne was writing from Hever to congratulate Mary on her marriage to the Catholic Philip of Spain, son and heir of the Emperor Charles V, and to ask 'when and where I shall wait on your Majesty and his'. She sent also a wish that they should both enjoy 'much joy and felicity, with increase of children to G.o.d's glory and the preservation of your prosperous estates'. Sadly, Mary 568whose first legislation in Parliament had been an Act declaring her parents' marriage lawful - was never to bear a child. What was at first thought to be a pregnancy later turned out to be a malignant growth within the womb.

Mary had originally been responsible for Anne of Cleves's conversion to Roman Catholicism, and by the 1550s Anne had long since repudiated Protestantism. She would have heard, no doubt, of the coming of the Inquisition to England, and also of the burning of more than 300 heretics, among them Archbishop Cranmer, on the Queen's orders. It had been Mary's