CHAPTER I

BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD

THE LADY KATHERINE GREY, two years younger than her unfortunate sister, the Lady Jane, was born in August 1540, and, according to tradition, not at Bradgate Hall in Leicestershire, but in London, at Dorset Place, Westminster, a mansion which the Duke of Suffolk, her father, then Marquis of Dorset, had purchased and rebuilt in the finest Tudor architecture of the period, having a very long gallery and terrace, overlooking the Thames. It was considerably altered towards the close of the sixteenth century, when it was divided into three separate houses, and in one of these Locke the philosopher lived and died. A relic of the existence of this palace was extant only a few years ago, in the name of a little street called Dorset Place, which was pulled down for modern improvements when the new War Office and its adjacent edifices were built.

There is, needless to say, no registered record of Lady Katherine’s birth, and we know very little of how her childhood was spent. The hygienic and more humane methods of rearing children, which are now in vogue, were then unknown. Lady Katherine’s little limbs must have been swathed in swaddling clothes, precisely as were those of all her infant contemporaries. She was certainly not nursed by her mother—which would have been against all precedent in royal circles of society—but by some country foster-mother, possibly the Mrs. Helen who performed the same office for Lady Jane, and who attended that unfortunate princess on the scaffold. A foster-mother in the family of the great position of the Dorsets was in many ways a personage. Her costume was rich; her board and lodging expensive, even luxurious; and the children she nursed were taught to consider her almost in the light of a mother, and this, many years after the very necessary functions which she had performed for their benefit had ceased.

The child’s costume as she grew up was cut on absolutely the same pattern as that of her mother, of which it was a miniature reproduction, without, however, the train or _manteau de cour_, which the Lady Frances only wore on state occasions. At five years of age, Lady Katherine wore long petticoats and a dress of brocade reaching to the feet, a ruff, and a little white cap, tied in a bow under the chin. There is still in existence a list or inventory of the toys which were in the possession of Princess Elizabeth when she was an infant at Hunsdon. They included a number of dolls of all sizes, one or two mechanical, “that could speke” and even walk (evidently imported from Italy), a wooden horse on rockers, a set of marionettes, some little cooking utensils, and no doubt most popular of all, a kind of Noah’s Ark, containing “beesties and Noah with hys familie.” With similar toys, doubtless, the little Lady Katherine and her sister Jane frequently did play.

As she grew older she was placed, to learn her letters, under the care of a certain Mrs. Ashley or Astley (sister or sister-in-law of the lady who figures so largely in history as the governess of Queen Elizabeth), who remained in the quality of governess-companion to the children of the Marquis of Dorset until the death of Lady Jane, when we lose sight of her, unless indeed the little Lady Mary was placed in her charge and remained at Bradgate during the tragic events that decimated her family.

Lady Katherine’s entry into what we should now call society, took place on the 20th August, 1547, when that renowned, not to say redoubted, lady, Bess of Hardwick, married her second husband, Sir William Cavendish. For some reason or other which has escaped record, this wedding took place at Bradgate Hall, in Leicestershire, evidently placed at the disposal of the bride and bridegroom by the Dorsets. The nuptial knot was tied at two o’clock in the morning, according to a curious custom of nocturnal marriages which holds good to this day in certain parts of America, Italy, and Spain. There was a house-party assembled for this festive occasion, and among the guests were the Earl of Shrewsbury, who in due time became the fourth husband of the bride of that day—or better, night—and the Marchioness of Northampton, the discarded wife of Katherine Parr’s brother, a lady who had had a very curious and adventurous history, which excluded her from court, although, at the time of her death, she was staying at Sudeley Castle, as the guest of Henry VIII’s sixth wife, Katherine Parr. The Marchioness was evidently a very great friend of the Dorset family, with whom, for all her rather scandalous reputation, she was a frequent visitor. The wedding must have taken place in the private chapel (which is still standing) of the now ruined hall, and amongst those present were the Marquis and Marchioness of Dorset, with their three daughters, the Ladies Jane, Katherine and Mary, who acted as bridesmaids. Immediately after the wedding ceremony, a sort of breakfast was served, after which, with much music and noise, the bride and bridegroom were led in procession to the bridal chamber. This marriage taking place at Bradgate, shows how early was the connection that existed between Bess of Hardwick and the Greys—a connection which, some twenty years later, proved a very uncomfortable one for the said Bess, since it sent her to the Tower.

As Bess of Hardwick will be mentioned again in these pages, it may be well to remind the reader here, that she was the daughter of a certain Mr. John Hardwick, a small Derbyshire yeoman farmer or squire, and one of seven or eight brothers and sisters. She had acquired, under her paternal roof, an excellent knowledge of brewing, baking, starching, making of elder and cowslip wine, preserves and cordials; but she grew tired of the country, early in life, and on one occasion, without warning any of her relatives, put herself in communication with Lady Zouch,[53] a distant cousin, who was then residing in London, in a prominent position at the court of Henry VIII. To Lady Zouch, therefore, Bess addressed herself, begging of her not to think it impertinent that she should write to her, but to remember her forlorn condition and take compassion on it. It would seem that Derbyshire, and especially that part of it in which she lived, was not conducive to matrimony, and the enterprising Bess thought that if she could come to London as companion to Lady Zouch, she might succeed in extricating herself from the narrow circumstances in which she had hitherto lived. Lady Zouch replied favourably, and invited Mistress Elizabeth Hardwick to come and stay with her. She had not been very long under her noble cousin’s roof, ere she formed the acquaintance of old Mr. John Barlow. He was seventy, and Bess was considerably under twenty. The gentleman, who was a great invalid, was very rich; the young lady was active and healthy, but poor. She became his nurse, and rubbed his legs and applied his leeches and poultices with such admirable skill, avoiding giving him unnecessary pain, that he proposed to her and was accepted. Mr. Barlow did not long survive his wedding, and when he died, Bess inherited every penny of his fortune. Having now secured wealth, she was determined to acquire rank. Her next choice fell upon Sir William Cavendish, a son of that Thomas Cavendish who assisted Henry VIII in suppressing the monasteries, and who wrote an excellent life of Cardinal Wolsey. Sir William was not a very young man when he first made the acquaintance of Mistress Barlow, and he was already the father of six sons and daughters. Bess, who wished to be a “lady,” forgave him this numerous progeny, even going so far as to declare she would be a mother unto them all. It is at this period of her existence that she begins to loom largely in the social history of her time. During the ten years that she was Cavendish’s wife, she filled his quiver with not less than eight children, four sons and four daughters, one of whom, Elizabeth, had by way of godmother Queen Elizabeth, the Lady Katherine Grey representing “Our Eliza” by proxy. This Elizabeth Cavendish in due time married Darnley’s youngest brother (there were seventeen years between them), and became, eventually, the mother of the unfortunate Arabella Stuart, whose life-story runs on almost parallel lines with that of Lady Katherine Grey, her godmother by proxy. Both were the victims of their unfortunate love affairs and of the vindictiveness of Elizabeth, who was determined to have as few heirs to her Throne as possible. Bess, after the death of Sir William, married again, for the third time, Mr. William Saintlow or St. Lo, a rich gentleman, captain in Queen Elizabeth’s bodyguard, and considered to be the handsomest man in Europe.

In the case of the Cavendish children, Bess behaved admirably, but she evidently took a fierce dislike to the Saintlow progeny, whom she treated so abominably that they never set foot inside their father’s house until his death, when they attended his funeral, to learn that he had left them all his available property. The ambitious Mrs. Saintlow, wishing to still further increase her rank, next married George Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury. This marriage was not a very happy one, mainly through the strange circumstances in which the earl and countess were placed. They were obliged by Queen Elizabeth to take into their charge the unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots; and Bess, by marrying her daughter, Elizabeth, to young Charles Lennox, Darnley’s brother, became the grandmother of Arabella Stuart, which, to use her own words, was “the greatest trouble that ever God inflicted upon her.” Bess of Hardwick built Hardwick Hall, near Chatsworth, one of the most beautiful Elizabethan mansions in England, and possibly the only one which still contains intact the furniture, tapestries and works of art which its builder installed there.

After the wedding of Mrs. Barlow with Sir William Cavendish, the name of Lady Katherine Grey becomes more conspicuous in the memorials of her family. We know, for instance, that, together with her parents and her sisters, Jane and Mary, she spent the Christmas of 1551 with her cousin, Princess Mary, afterwards queen, at Hunsdon. The princess had provided a good deal of amusement for the children, in the shape of singers and conjurers obtained from London. In the following year (1552/3), the Marquis of Dorset—now become Duke of Suffolk, thanks to the Lord Protector Somerset, and consequently to Edward VI—helped Katherine, Duchess of Suffolk,[54] to entertain a large party at Tilsey, the seat of the young Willoughbys, who were her grace’s wards. There still exists, in the archives of the Willoughby family, a note-book of household expenses drawn up by “old Mr. Medley,” a connection of the family who acted as a sort of majordomo. Mr. Medley informs us that for the forty guests and servants who were being entertained, as much as £200 a week was spent for meat, fowls, fish, fruit, sweetmeats, etc. He likewise says that a sum of six pounds, equivalent to about sixty of our money, was given to the manager of Lord Oxford’s players, who brought his troupe to Tilsey, with the permission of the earl, to perform before the company on three separate days, when they gave, no doubt to the huge delight of the children, some of those horse-play comedies and farces which amused our Tudor ancestors, and which included amongst their attractions such items as “four hobby-horses, two dragons, four men as monkeys, a giraffe, and a man that swallowed fire.” Such wonders as these, probably, greatly pleased Lady Katherine and her little sisters, for children are the same in all ages. Then there were “romps, games and dances” in the great hall; and altogether, to use our familiar expression, the young people had “a real good time” at Tilsey—which doubtless contrasted rather unpleasantly with the formal hospitality offered them a fortnight later by the duke’s sister, the Lady Audley, at Saffron Walden, where there was a preacher engaged to improve their manners and their morals. Bullinger, who got wind of the very secular form of entertainment ordered by the Duke of Suffolk for the amusement of his young guests at Tilsey, took umbrage, and wrote one or two bitter letters about it, which, let us hope, never fell into the hands of his grace, else the cause of the Reformation might have suffered considerably thereby. Probably the duke was not at this time as completely converted to Puritanism as he was a couple of years later. After their visit to Walden, the whole family rode up to London, the little Ladies Katherine and Jane perched on pillions in front of their father and their uncle John. Here they were again entertained by Princess Mary, at the Priory, Clerkenwell. When the Suffolks returned to Bradgate, they stayed in Leicester, and were entertained with wine and hippocras and more solid refreshments by the mayoress and her sister. After partaking of these, they proceeded to Bradgate, three miles farther on.

So many cross-country journeys on horseback, to and fro, from Bradgate to Hunsdon, Hunsdon to Tilsey, Tilsey to Saffron Walden, from Saffron Walden to London, and then a three-days’ journey back to Leicestershire, either in a litter or on horseback, told unfortunately on the health of the little Ladies Jane and Katherine, and both of them—and no wonder!—were laid up for a week or so with serious illnesses. Indeed, Lady Katherine’s health, like that of her sister Jane, seems, throughout her life, to have been very fragile, for later we shall hear of her being frequently ill with fever, headaches, and rheumatic pains.

The Lady Frances and her husband, the Duke of Suffolk,[55] never seem to have destined Lady Katherine, as they did her sister Jane, to play any very conspicuous part in history. Jane they set aside and educated, coached—or better, “crammed”—to be the head of the Protestant party in England, and, as such, either to share the Throne with her cousin, Edward VI, or else to occupy it alone, instead of the Catholic Princess Mary, or of Elizabeth, whose religious opinions were not at this time clearly defined. Lady Jane, very skilfully surrounded by the most able and learned Reformers of her time, was veritably moulded for the dizzy but unfortunate station for which she was destined, and her parents, in their eagerness to fit her to occupy the Throne on the death of the sickly Edward VI, did not even allow her the time to take necessary recreation. The memorable interview between Lady Jane and Roger Ascham proves that the poor child was tortured into learning. If by chance, worn out by study, she turned to lighter things than Greek or Latin grammar, she got so many “bobs and pinches” from her charming mother, “that for pain she was fain to weep”; or find relief from so much cruelty and trouble in the unusual recreation, for a young girl, of reading Plato’s _Dialogues_ or the _Orations_ of Demosthenes. Ascham found Lady Katherine otherwise engaged, enjoying herself with the rest of the company at hunting and archery and those sports in which her mother, the Lady Frances, excelled. It is not surprising, then, to find that Bullinger, Œcolampadius, Conrad Pellican, Ulmer and the many other Reformers who flocked to England during the reign of Edward VI, and who were specially welcome at Bradgate, had very little or nothing to do with Lady Katherine. Under the shade of the beautiful trees of Bradgate, therefore, and in the sunlight of its broad and flower-covered meadows; in the stately avenues of its gardens and by the running brooks and broad pools of its park, the girlhood of Lady Katherine Grey was passed, we may presume, far more pleasantly and naturally than that of her sister Jane. She was at least allowed to indulge in sports and pastimes suitable to her age, to try her skill at archery and possibly to leap a fence on a favourite pony, to dance in the hall, and may be to sing a ballad to the accompaniment of a lute, aye, even to practise on the virginals, without incurring, as her elder sister had done, the displeasure of good Master Bullinger, who in one of his most remarkable letters, written at the request of Aylmer, cautioned the Lady Jane against the vanities of this world and urged her to dress soberly, as becomes a Christian maiden, by taking as her model the Princess Elizabeth!—above all, not to lose time in practising music and in other like frivolities.[56]

In his history of Lady Jane Grey (_The Nine-days’ Queen_), the author pointed out that the legends as to any intimacy or love-making having ever existed between Lady Jane and her cousin King Edward VI, are absolutely apocryphal. Although at one time the Lord Admiral Thomas Seymour actually suggested that, in the event of the engagement between Edward and the Queen of Scots failing, the Lady Jane Grey should be proposed as queen consort, the young people do not seem to have come much in contact; and despite that the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk and the Lady Katherine were in London very frequently during the reign of Edward VI, there is no record of the Lady Katherine having been to her cousin’s court, not even on the occasion when her sister Jane figured rather prominently at the revels given in honour of the queen dowager of Scotland, when she passed through London on her way northwards. Katherine was probably too young; but there is a touching record extant, proving that, notwithstanding a slight disparity in age (only two years, however), a great affection existed between Lady Jane Grey and her sister.

On Whit-Sunday (probably May 21) 1553, the day on which Lady Jane became the bride of Lord Guildford Dudley, Katherine was married, or rather, contracted—she was only thirteen years old at the time—to Henry, Lord Herbert, eldest son of the Earl of Pembroke, who was just a little over nineteen. After the ceremony (it was no more than a ceremony), the very youthful “bride” lived, according to custom, under her father-in-law’s roof at Baynard’s Castle, the ancient palace on the Thames, within the walls of which Pembroke proclaimed his allegiance to Mary on the last day of Queen Jane’s reign. Lady Katherine, unlike her sister Jane, was not blessed (or cursed) with a mother-in-law, for Anne Parr, only sister of Queen Katherine Parr and mother of Lord Herbert, had died some months before her son’s marriage and her husband’s accession to the rank of earl. The young “bride’s” father-in-law, however, must have been the reverse of a pleasant companion—his selfishness, craft, and brutality, like his enormous wealth, were common talk. When he expelled the abbess and nuns from the royal abbey of Wilton, which had been bestowed upon him by Henry VIII, he is said to have struck some of them with his whip, exclaiming, “Go spin, ye jades, go spin!” Like the majority of his peers, indeed, he was a staunch Protestant under Edward VI, a “Janeite” for something near nine days, and, when Mary came to the Throne, so fervent a Catholic that he actually invited the nuns of Wilton to return to their old home, and stood bareheaded as they filed into it in his presence.

Lady Katherine Grey was still at Baynard’s Castle during the whole of the last days of the tragic existence of her unfortunate sister, and was not, as usually stated, at Sheen. The more minute details of what had befallen Lady Jane may have been spared her; but surely she must have been acquainted with the general outline of what was happening to her father and mother and to the victim of their ambition, the “Nine-days’ Queen.” There is no evidence, however, that during the time Lady Jane was on the Throne, Lady Katherine Grey ever entered the Tower, and she certainly never saw her sister again; but she was remembered by her in one of the most exquisite letters of the period.[57] The letter runs as follows:—

“I have sent you, good sister Katherine, a book [i.e. the Testament], which, though it be not outwardly trimmed with gold, yet inwardly it is of more worth than precious stones. It is the book, dear sister, of the laws of the Lord; it is His Testament and last Will, which He bequeathed to us poor wretches, which shall lead us to the path of eternal joy; and if you, with good mind and an earnest desire, follow it, it will bring you to immortal and everlasting life. It will teach you to live—it will teach you to die—it will win you more than you would have gained by the possession of your woeful father’s lands, for if God had prospered him ye would have inherited his lands.

“If ye apply diligently to this book, trying to direct your life by it, you shall be inheritor of those riches as neither the covetous shall withdraw from you, neither the thief shall steal, nor the moth corrupt. Desire, dear sister, to understand the law of the Lord your God. Live still to die, that you by death may purchase eternal life, or, after your death, enjoy the life purchased for you by Christ’s death. Trust not that the tenderness of your age shall lengthen your life, for as soon as God will, goeth the young as the old. Labour alway and learn to die. Deny the world, defy the devil, and despise the flesh. Delight only in the Lord. Be penitent for your sins, but despair not. Be steady in your faith, yet presume not, and desire, with St. Paul, to be dissolved, to be with Christ, with Whom, even in death, there is life. Be like the good servant, and even in midnight be waking, lest when death cometh, he steal upon you like a thief in the night, and you be, with the evil servant, found sleeping, and lest for lack of oil ye be found like the first foolish wench,[58] and like him that had not the wedding garment, ye be cast out from the marriage. Persist ye (as I trust ye do, seeing ye have the name of a Christian), as near as ye can, to follow the steps of your Master, Christ, and take up your cross, lay your sins on His back, and always embrace Him!

“As touching my death, rejoice as I do, and adsist [i.e. consider] that I shall be delivered from corruption and put on incorruption, for I am assured that I shall, for losing a mortal life, find an immortal felicity. Pray God grant that ye live in His fear and die in His love....[59] neither for love of life nor fear of death. For if ye deny His truth to lengthen your life, God will deny you and shorten your days, and if ye will cleave to Him, He will prolong your days, to your comfort, and for His glory, to the which glory God bring mine and you hereafter, when it shall please Him to call you.

“Farewell, dear sister; put your only trust in God, Who only must uphold you.

“Your loving sister,

“JANE DUDDELY.”

Shortly after the “Nine-days’ Queen’s” execution, the Earl of Pembroke, true to his callous nature, and so as to avoid any suspicion of having supported the fallen cause, forced his son to annul his engagement with Lady Katherine, on the plea that it had been a mere formality, and that the bride had been at the time betrothed to the young Earl of Hertford—a curious statement, certainly, when considered in the light of subsequent events. Camden says that she was officially “divorced,” but this is not probable, there having been no marriage beyond a mere ceremony of contract. It was therefore simply annulled, and the bride, who, according to the custom of the period, had gone to live with her husband’s parents, in order the better to form her future husband’s acquaintance, was sent back to her mother. Strange to say, five years later (March 24, 1559), the Count de Feria wrote to King Philip of Spain stating that “Lady Katherine has been hitherto very willing to marry the Earl of Pembroke’s son, but she has ceased to talk about it as she used to. The Bishop will have told Your Majesty what passed between the Earl of Pembroke and me on this matter.” It is easy to understand that Pembroke, recognizing Katherine’s position in respect to the succession, may have eventually regretted the over-hasty dissolution of his son’s betrothal, and desired that so advantageous a marriage should take place; but why Katherine, at that time engaged to the Earl of Hertford, should have favoured Pembroke’s son, is hard to say, unless she was suddenly temporarily jealous or annoyed with her _fiancé_, or was simply _pretending_ to approve of Pembroke’s plan, in order to distract attention from her real engagement to the earl, which it was advisable to keep secret.

Scarcely had Lady Katherine returned to the maternal roof from Baynard’s Castle than she had to undergo the trying ordeal of hearing of the executions of her father and uncle, and of witnessing the callous manner in which these tragedies were treated by her mother. The Lady Frances’s mourning for her husband or her daughter could not have been of long duration, for well within the first three weeks of her widowhood, regardless of the tragic fate of her daughter, her husband, and her brother-in-law, this heartless woman put aside her mourning robes, and, gaily attired, allowed herself to be led to the hymeneal altar by a ginger-headed lad of twenty-one, young enough to be her son and of such inferior rank that the Princess Elizabeth, in her indignation at so unequal a match, cried out: “What? Has the woman so far forgotten herself as to mate with a common groom!” “A common groom,” however, Mr. Stokes was not. He was a member of a fairly good yeoman family and had been appointed secretary and groom of the chambers to the princess some two years earlier, during which time he must not only have won her confidence, but been on terms of so unusually intimate a kind, that had his first child been born alive, which fortunately it was not, it might have claimed the paternity of the Duke of Suffolk, and have added another complication to the many as to the succession, the result of the irregular wills[60] made by Henry VIII and Edward VI, who both appointed the Lady Frances and her daughters the immediate heiresses to the Throne, in the event of the deaths without issue of the former king’s daughters, Elizabeth and Mary. Perhaps the real reason why Lady Jane Grey never wrote to her mother in the last months of her life and never mentioned her in the letters to her sister Katherine and to her father, nor even on the margin of the Prayer Book (still in the possession of the nation) in which she has recorded her last thoughts, was that she was well aware of some scandal attaching to the Lady Frances in connection with the “base-born” Mr. Adrian Stokes. There are portraits, both in one canvas, facing each other, of Mr. Adrian Stokes and the Lady Frances, at Chatsworth. The gentleman is distinctly plain and common looking—he might indeed be a groom, with his ginger hair, his colourless eyes and rather silly expression. He wears a very rich doublet of black velvet, furred with ermine; whereas the Lady Frances, a buxom, but sour and ill-tempered looking lady, bearing a strange resemblance to her uncle, Henry VIII, is attired in a dress of black satin, with a jewelled pattern. She wears the well-known Mary Stuart coif and some fine jewels. In the corner of the picture figures the date “1555” and the words, “Adrian Stokes, aged twenty-one, and Lady Frances Duchess of Suffolk, aged thirty-six”—she looks fully ten years older.

The question arises, Why did Lady Frances marry Mr. Stokes? The match appeared, even at that time, an incredible breach of common decency. Was it a love-passion; or was it not rather the result of well pondered policy? The Lady Frances might easily have been selected as the head of one or other of the numerous parties then existing in England, in order that she should become a possible successor or even rival to Queen Mary. The fact that she was the wife of a “base-born knave” made it almost an impossibility that she could be used as a tool against the queen. The people would never have accepted her as a ruler, nor would they have allowed her offspring, notwithstanding the example of Katherine of Valois and Owen Tudor, to have succeeded to the Throne. This was the view of the case taken, even at the time, at court; for the French ambassador speaks of it as simply a move on the part of the Lady Frances to get herself tacitly excluded from the succession, and thereby enable her to lead a peaceful existence. It may be remarked here that nearly all the greatest court ladies of the late King Edward’s reign, including the Duchess of Somerset and Katherine, Duchess of Suffolk, married men who were their inferiors by birth and station. Katherine, Duchess of Suffolk, married her youthful secretary, Mr. Bertie; and Mr. Newdigate, Anne Stanhope, Duchess of Somerset’s secretary, became, in due course, that haughty lady’s husband.