On This Day in Elizabethan History: The Death of Robert Dudley, the Earl of Leicester

A portrait of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester from 1564, the same year Queen Elizabeth granted him his earldom. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

 "A personage so dear unto us."

-Queen Elizabeth describing the Earl of Leicester in a letter to the Earl of Shrewsbury, 1588.

 

On this day in Elizabethan history, 1588, Robert Dudley, the Earl of Leicester died. While the earl had been unwell for quite some time, nobody expected his illness to be fatal, least of all Queen Elizabeth (ODNB). 

Dudley's unexpected death occurred when he was on the road to "take the waters" in Buxton, Derbyshire. A few miles after stopping to write the Queen a letter at Rycote in Oxfordshire on August 29th, Leicester grew gravely ill and took shelter at the nearby manor of Cornbury. It is there that he died in the early morning hours of September 4th (Gristwood, 334).

Only a week earlier Leicester had bid the Queen farewell after she had ordered him to go on retreat and tend to his health. The letter that Leicester had sent her from Rycote became her most prized possession; on it she scrawled, "His last letter", and she kept it in a private box in her closet. The letter now resides in the National Archives.

"His last letter", in the National Archives in England. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

Leicester had been in physical anguish following his role as the Queen's Lieutenant General at Tilbury, a position that he had welcomed and a duty that he had been honored to fulfill. But  the work had been stressful none the less. Leicester had been in charge of between 12,000-17,000 men at Tilbury fort, and another 6,000 were under his command in Sandwich (Gristwood, 328). The Earl of Leicester had urged his Queen to visit her troops at Tilbury, writing to her that, "you shall comfort not only these thousands, but many more that shall hear of it" (quoted in Gristwood, 330).

Indeed, once a chaplain in Leicester's service recorded Queen Elizabeth's "excellent oration", which he wrote that she delivered dressed like an "armed Pallas", (Athena, Greek goddess of wisdom and war) the speech was printed and circulated throughout Europe within the week (Gristwood, 329-30). The English people were inspired by the Queen's Tilbury Speech, which they could now hold in their hands, and the rest of the world knew from the pamphlet that the English were not to be intimidated.

A painting of Queen Elizabeth at Tilbury, courtesy of Anniina Jokinen. Image public domain.

Leicester and Elizabeth's collaboration at Tilbury would be their last; yet their romantic and political partnership had spanned almost 30 years. Leicester was the Queen's emotional support, and sometimes her stand-in an state functions. Theirs was a bond unlike any other; it survived imprisonment, threat of execution, a mysterious death, rejections, indiscretions, marriage, and the threat of assassination and war.

A composite image of a pair of portrait miniatures of Queen Elizabeth I and Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester. Painted c.1575, by Nicholas Hilliard. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

According to the antiquarian William Camden, (the author of the invaluable primary source, The Annals of Queen Elizabeth) after the defeat of the Spanish Armada, Queen Elizabeth was having papers drawn up to make Leicester the permanent Lieutenant Governor of England. Camden claimed that the Queen was only dissuaded from putting this plan into action by William Cecil, Lord Burghley and Sir Christopher Hatton.

A detail of a portrait of Sir Christopher Hatton, c.1575. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

Perhaps this was true; Camden was working from many primary sources now lost to us, and his work is largely accurate and free of the religious bias that permeated most works of the 16th and 17th century. Certainly Elizabeth was starting to think about what would happen to England upon her death, even if she refused to speak of the succession aloud.

The frontispiece and title-page of the 1575 edition of The Annals of Queen Elizabeth, by William Camden. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

Leicester dined every day in the Queen's apartments before he left for Buxton (Gristwood, 333). We can hope that Queen Elizabeth found comfort in her memories of their last days together, after she had recovered from the initial shock of Leicester's unexpected death.

A miniature of the Earl of Leicester, c.1572-76. By Hilliard. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

The Earl of Leicester's demise was probably caused by stomach cancer, which his persistent gastric symptoms seem to suggest, or complications caused by chronic malaria (Gristwood, 333-34). Malaria was rampant in England in the 16th century and had claimed the lives of many, including prominent members of the royal family, like Arthur Tudor. We do know that Leicester had complained of "the stone", which was a colloquialism for any intestinal problem (Gristwood, 334).

A miniature of Queen Elizabeth, c.1572-76. By Hilliard. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

 The juxtaposition of England's celebration over the defeat of the Spanish Armada, and the death of her oldest and dearest friend was almost too much for Queen Elizabeth to bear:

"Elizabeth was condemned to an extraordinary conjunction of public rejoicing and private agony. This was her own personal sorrow-it would be folly to try to damper the mood of he country-and against a background of the national victory celebrations she shut herself into her own chamber to grieve." (Gristwood, 334-365)

Many contemporary reports confirm that Queen Elizabeth locked herself away in her apartments. Sir Francis Walsingham lamented that he could not get the Queen to attend to state business at this time, "by reason that she will not suffer anybody to have access to her" (quoted in Gristwood, 335).

Sketch of Queen Elizabeth I from life. By Zuccaro, 1575.

This tells us how profound Queen Elizabeth's grief was. Here is a woman who relished her role in government and never shirked her public responsibilities because of her private feelings, save for this one instance. Elizabeth's life experiences had caused her to develop a hard, protective exterior, which rarely cracked to reveal signs of affection or vulnerability; Robert Dudley had always been the only exception.

Sketch of the Earl of Leicester from life. By Zuccaro, 1575.

Yet, however much the Queen of England mourned her "Sweet Robin", his death barely registered with the rest of England in comparison to the victory over Spain. The antiquarian John Stow, who himself admitted that he owed his career to Leicester, wrote: "All men, so far as they durst, rejoiced no less outwardly at his death than for the victory lately obtained against the Spaniard." 

Still, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester left this life having accomplished a great deal for Queen and Country, and should be remembered for it. I think William Camden's epitaph of the earl conveys many of the aspects of his character; this is fitting since the way the earl was thought of differed so greatly from person to person. 

"He was reputed a complete courtier, magnificent, liberal, a protector and benefactor of soldiers and scholars...very officious, and cunning toward his ill-willers; for a time much given to women...to say the truth, he was openly held to be in the rank of those which were worthy of praise, but the things which he secretly plotted displeased many."

We do not know how Robert's widow, Lettice Knollys dealt with the loss of her husband. Let it be said that we should not for a minute entertain the idea that she and her second-cousin, the Queen, would have commiserated over their mutual loss. Lettice's greatest testament to her husband may have been their joint tomb. Elizabeth's may have in fact been her relationship with Leicester's step-son, Essex.

The tomb of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester and his wife, Lettice Knollys in Beauchamp Chapel in the Collegiate Church of St.Mary, Warwickshire. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

Historian Sarah Gristwood explains the significance of Queen Elizabeth's relationship with the Earl of Essex:

"Perhaps it is to the years ahead (of Leicester's death) that we should look for Elizabeth's last (and almost disastrous) great loving gesture towards her lost companion to her relationship with Leicester's stepson and surrogate, Essex. Leicester had brought Essex to court as he himself began to tire and age, willing still to perform necessary duties, but unable any longer to flatter Elizabeth with the conviction he once has; unable to provide the energetic, exciting pageant of eager masculinity. Elizabeth obediently would follow his programme almost to her destruction; would try to believe Essex was another Leicester. The Queen's long, her extraordinary, indulgence towards Robert Devereux was her long lament for Robert Dudley."

(Gristwood, 337)

When Elizabeth whispered the name "Robert" on her deathbed in 1603, there can be no doubt to which earl she was referring.

A portrait of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester circa 1560-65. Attributed to Steven van der Muelen. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

Sources

Gristwood, Sarah. Elizabeth and Leicester: Power, Passion, Politics. New York: Viking, 2007. Print.

"Dudley, Robert, earl of Leicester (1532/3–1588)" Oxford Dictionary of National Biography online edition. Retrieved 09-02-2012

On This Day in Elizabethan History: The Death of Sir Francis Knollys

On this day in Elizabethan history, 1596, Sir Francis Knollys, a Privy Councillor, Knight of the Garter, and Vice-Chamberlain of the household of Queen Elizabeth I, died.

Francis Knollys was born c.1514 to Robert Knollys, a court official of Henry VIII, and his wife, Lettice. After receiving some schooling at Oxford University, Francis began to earn favor at King Henry's court, becoming one of Henry VIII's esteemed gentleman-pensioners. In 1540, Francis' future wife Katherine Carey, daughter of Mary Boleyn, arrived at court. She was secured a place in Queen Anne of Cleves household by Henry VIII. (Historian Alison makes a convincing case based on ample primary and secondary sources that Katherine Carey was the illegitimate daughter of King Henry VIII, though her brother Henry Carey, later 1st Baron Hunsdon, was almost certainly Mary's child by her husband, William Carey.) Francis was now in almost daily contact with his future wife, and if their eventual happy marriage is any indication, they perhaps fell in love before they were even wed.

This Portrait of a Pregnant Lady, 1562, by Steven van der Muelen  is most likely of Katherine Carey-Knollys. For further information on this portrait, and the controversy surrounding Katherine's paternity, please see Alison Weir's biography, Mary Boleyn: The Mistress of Kings. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

In 1542 Francis was admitted to The House of Commons (Dictionary of National Biography), and in 1546 he married Katherine Carey. By an act of Parliament, the couple would be joint owners of the estate of Rotherfield Greys.

By all accounts, Francis Knollys was always an outspoken champion for the reform movement in the Church of England. His opinions resonated with the young King Edward VI, and  Francis became an important member of his government (Wagner, 174). His dedication to King and country paid off, as he was knighted in 1547.

A detail of a portrait of King Edward VI. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

Things changed for Sir Francis and his family upon Mary Tudor's accession in 1553. The Knollys's fled to the Protestant state of Germany with their children rather than face persecution for their faith (Wagner, 174). This was especially wise in their case, as Sir Francis had long been ardently defending and promoting his beliefs. 

Upon the accession of Elizabeth I in 1558, the Knollys's could breathe a sigh of relief. Sir Francis had been a loyal servant of Queen Elizabeth's father and brother, and longing to serve the new Queen, he had returned to England before his wife and children, in the hopes of securing an appointment and setting up a household. Katherine Carey-Knollys was the Queen's first cousin, if not her half sister; the two had become acquainted in their in youth and had developed an unbreakable bond. Katherine Carey-Knollys and the children followed Sir Francis home to England.

As he had hoped, Sir Francis did earn one of the first appointments of Queen Elizabeth's reign, becoming a member of the Privy Council in 1558. Shortly thereafter he was made Vice-Chamberlain of her household, a post that would later on be held by his son (Wagner, 175).

A detail of the Clopton Portrait of Elizabeth I c.1560-65, shortly after she became Queen of England. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

By the 1560's, Sir Francis's Protestant beliefs had developed into Puritan ones, and he often spoke in favor of Puritan causes in the Elizabethan Parliament's (Wagner, 175). This was problematic, as anything perceived as religious extremism during Elizabeth's reign, be it on the conservative Catholic side or the reformist Protestant side of the spectrum, was monitored closely. Nothing could threaten the moderate, largely tolerant Anglican Church Queen Elizabeth and her administration had worked so hard to establish (please see Religious Policy under Elizabeth I). Still, Sir Francis' personal beliefs were never a threat to the realm, and true to Elizabeth's declaration of wishing "not to open windows into men's souls", and perhaps due in part to her great love for both Francis and Katherine, the Knollys's were left in peace. 

In 1568, Sir Francis was entrusted with keeping Mary Stuart, the so-called Queen of Scot's under house arrest, after she had provocatively crossed over into England without permission. Francis would guard Mary Stuart on and off, along with George Talbot, the Earl of Shrewsbury.

A detail of a portrait of George Talbot, the Earl of Shrewsbury, one of the men who guarded Mary, the so-called Queen of Scots in England. He was also Bess of Hardwick's last husband. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

This duty kept him away from court, and thus away from his wife and children, of whom his personal letters and life choices proved he loved very much.  Sir Francis would frequently ask permission from Queen Elizabeth to give his wife leave so that she could come and visit him, but usually his requests were denied (Weir, 271). Katherine Carey-Knollys was one of about five women that Elizabeth ever developed a close friendship with, and she preferred to keep her close. According to Ambassador Fenelon, the Queen "loved Lady Knollys above all other women in the world." Thus, Sir Francis was often at odds with his sovereign concerning quality time with his wife.

A miniature of Mary, Queen of Scots, painted by Nicholas Hilliard while she was under house arrest in England. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

Sadly, Katherine Carey-Knollys died on January 15th, 1569 at Hampton Court Palace with Queen Elizabeth, while Sir Francis was away guarding Mary Stuart at Bolton Castle (Weir, 271-72). Katherine was given a lavish, nearly royal burial at Westminster Abbey, paid for in part by Queen Elizabeth herself. Francis wrote of his grief over the loss of his wife while they were separated, and the Queen was equally devastated. Sir Francis never remarried.

The Western facade of Westminster Abbey. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

In 1572, just three years after his wife's death, Sir Francis received another honor, being appointed Treasurer of the Royal Household , a position he would hold until his death (Dictionary of National Biography).

The eldest of Sir Francis and Katherine Carey-Knollys's thirteen children, Lettice (likely named for Francis' mother) secretly married Queen Elizabeth's closest friend and favorite, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester in 1578. When Sir Francis found out about the nuptials, he demanded to be a witness at a second ceremony. This is understandable, given Leicester's controversial marital history, but also somewhat dangerous, seeing as it was inevitable the Queen would find out about it.

A portrait of Lettice Knollys as Countess of Leicester, c. 1585 by George Gower. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

And find out about it, she did. The Queen's wrath was two-fold, having been betrayed by the only man she ever loved as well as of the Knollys children, who had been like surrogate children to her (Weir). Sir Francis's new son-in-law was briefly imprisoned, and Lettice was banned forever from the royal court. Luckily, Sir Francis was not held responsible for the the poor judgement exercised by his daughter and Leicester, although his grandson, Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, was to become a thorn in his side.

A miniature by Hilliard of Francis Knollys and Katherine Knollys's grandson, Robert Devereux, the Earl of Essex. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

From the 1580's through the 1590's. Knollys's Puritan beliefs put him at particular odds with Queen Elizabeth I's Archbishop of Canterbury, (1583-1603) John Whitgift (Palmer, 32). The Archbishop was entrusted with suppressing Puritan and Presbyterian non-conformity in England (Wagner, 175).

In 1593 Sir Francis Knollys entered into a prestigious brotherhood, being made a Knight of the Garter. Just three years later Sir Francis Knollys died, bringing his long and illustrious career to a close. Sir Francis and his brother-in-law, Henry Carey, 1st Baron Hunsdon died within a week of each other. The loss of two of the people Elizabeth was closest to in such a short amount of time truly devastated her (Weir, 266). Sir Francis was laid to rest at Rotherfield Greys; a memorial to his wife was erected there as well, though her body still resides in St. Edmund's chapel, Westminster Abbey.

Henry Carey, 1st Baron Hunsdon in his old age, wearing his chain of office. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

Sir Francis Knollys certainly enjoyed the distinction of being a part of Queen Elizabeth's family, having married one of her maternal relations, but he also earned every honor bestowed upon him. Unlike her father, Queen Elizabeth was not one for sycophancy, and "was never prone to handing out offices and favors to the undeserving, however close they were to her in blood." (Weir, 234). When Sir Francis disagreed with Queen Elizabeth on matters of state, which happened on more than one notable occasion, he did not mince words, always giving her his honest opinion. Since her accession, Elizabeth I had demanded that her Councillors always tell her the truth, even if it was not something that she necessarily wanted to hear; Sir Francis consistently lived up to that expectation, and he was rewarded because of it.

Sources:

"Knollys, Francis." Dictionary of National Biography. London: Smith, Elder & Co. 1885-1900.

"Francis, Knollys." The Historical Dictionary of the Elizabethan World. Print. (By John A. Wagner)

Weir, Alison. Mary Boleyn: The Mistress of Kings. New York: Balantine Books, 2011. Print.

Palmer, Michael. Reputations: Elizabeth I. London: The Bath Press, 1988. Print.

Elizabethan Quote of the Day: Elizabeth's "unruly horse"

"An unruly horse must be abated of his provender*, that he may be the easier and better managed."-Queen Elizabeth I, 1600.

Provender-fodder for livestock, originating in 13th century Middle English.

After a series of disappointing mismanagement's within his appointed office, and an unchecked ego, Robert Devereux, the Earl of Essex was due for a sharp reprimand, though his own inflated perception of himself did not allow him to see that the walls of his own design were closing in around him. His monopoly on sweet wines, which Elizabeth I had granted in 1590 for ten years, come up for review in 1600. After several years of giving her last favorite the benefit of the doubt, the queen had grown tired of Essex's behavior. The charismatic bravado that had once entertained her and made her feel carefree in her rare moments away from state business, had now grown to an intolerable, and dangerous level. 

A miniature portrait of the Earl of Essex, by Nicholas Hilliard. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.

Elizabeth decided to put Essex in his place, saying the above quote before she revoked his monopoly on sweet wines. The "unruly horse", of course, is Essex, and the "provender" is his monopoly. This was a prudent decision of the queen's, not only to send a strong message to Essex about his pride, but also due to the fact that he had now amassed a financial debt somewhere around 16,000 pounds. I agree with David Loades, who in his book Elizabeth I: A Life supposes that Elizabeth did in fact know of Essex's money troubles when she revoked his monopoly, although we cannot ever know for sure (Loades, 277).



A 16th century portrait of Robert Devereux, the Earl of Essex. Essex was the son of  Lettice Knollys, who was one of the 14 children of Elizabeth I's beloved cousin Katherine Carey-Knollys. Lettice boldly married Elizabeth's confidante and only true romantic interest, Robert Dudley, the Earl of Leicester. When Leicester's biological son tragically died young, he adopted Devereux as his heir. Essex's great-grandmother was therefore Mary Boleyn, the sister of Elizabeth's mother, Queen Anne Boleyn. Picture acquired through Wikimedia Commons. Image public domain.



The month's ahead were to bring about the end of the Earl and some of his cronies, for their ill-planned and executed rebellion against the queen. While Essex would claim that his intent was not malicious, and that he only wanted to "free" the queen from her  ill-advisers, like Robert Cecil, whom he hated, his claim was transparent to those about him: Essex's Rebellion was a personal vendetta for a man with wounded pride, and not about alleged corrupt advisement of the queen. 

And anyone who knew Elizabeth, especially those intimates on her Privy Council, knew that know one could ever manipulate or influence the queen to do anything against her will! Elizabeth's judgement was always final, and the ax fell on Essex's head for his twice-fold treason: a personal and political betrayal.

Sources:

Loades, David. Elizabeth I: A Life. London: Continuum, 2006.