ill. Very frequently she attended Vespers, together with all her court,

besides taking her part in those numerous religious processions—which had been suppressed since her father’s reign—round the cloisters of Westminster Abbey and the courtyards of her palaces, on saints’ days and holy days. Of an evening, when at needlework with her ladies, hymns and litanies were sung; so that King Philip, notwithstanding his zeal for the Church, was somewhat depressed by so much piety, when he returned to England in 1556, and observed that “his wife’s court was now become like that of some abbess, there was so much praying and psalm-singing.” No doubt, Lady Katherine Grey joined in all these pious exercises, and it was even reported that, at this period, she followed her mother’s example, and reverted to the Church of Rome. She was certainly not a very staunch Protestant, since she told Feria that she was “as good a Catholic as any.”

At the court of Queen Mary, Lady Katherine Grey formed one or two interesting friendships. She kept up her connection with Mrs. Saintlow, who, however, does not seem to have troubled Queen Mary overmuch with her presence; and she became intimate with Jane Dormer, Countess de Feria, an extremely beautiful young woman, belonging to a very ancient Catholic family, for whom the queen entertained a great affection. This lady has left a book of memoirs, printed some fifty years ago, which contains many interesting details of life at the court of England under the rule of Mary Tudor. This friendship between Katherine Grey and the Countess of Feria proved dangerous, since it placed the former in immediate communication with the Spanish ambassador, and led to her being compromised in one of the most remarkable plots of the many connected with the succession that rendered Elizabeth’s life a misery to her. So great was the influence of the Ferias over Lady Katherine that, in March 1559, the count could write to King Philip triumphantly stating that she had actually given him her solemn promise that she would not marry without his consent, nor change her religion, which points to the fact that, as we have said above, she had become a Catholic. Another of Lady Katherine’s intimates at this time was Surrey’s “Fair Geraldine,” the beautiful Lady Clinton, who, although a professed Protestant, was beloved by Queen Mary, who retained her in her privy-chamber, together with Lady Bacon and one or two other ladies who approved of the Reformation. She had married, when very young, the elderly Sir Anthony Browne, who was master of the horse to Henry VIII, and had been left by him a rich widow. Her second husband was Lord Clinton, who in due time became Earl of Lincoln. Lady Katherine held her in such high esteem that she bequeathed her a legacy in her will.

Of Katherine’s mode of life at Mary’s court in the last years of that unhappy queen’s reign, we know very little, beyond the fact that she is occasionally mentioned as attending Her Majesty on various state occasions; but we may rest assured that she knew the cause of all the many sorrows and troubles—the unrequited love, the failing health of mind and body—that rendered those last years of Mary’s life so gloomy and yet so pathetic, during that fearful time when London was lighted by the lurid flames of Smithfield. Lady Katherine saw Queen Mary neglected by her husband; she knew of the tragic story of the dropsy mistaken for pregnancy, and as she was with Mary during the last weeks of her life, she must often have seen her sitting on the floor, her hands clasping her knees and her forehead resting upon them, her long grey hair streaming round her. She would sit for hours thus, silently nursing her knees; or lifting up her face, would stare vacantly, her mind far away in dreams, her eyes not recognizing even those who stood nearest to her. When at last death released this queen of woes from her suffering, and her sister, who had been hastily summoned from Hatfield, rode triumphantly to London to succeed her and attend her obsequies, Lady Katherine Grey and her sister Lady Mary walked from St. James’s Palace to Westminster Abbey in the solemn funeral procession of a queen who ought to have been beloved, but who, owing to circumstances beyond her control, died hated and defamed as “Bloody Mary.”

During the last two years of Mary’s life, young Hertford’s courtship of Lady Katherine Grey progressed smoothly enough, approved by the queen, by the Lady Frances and her husband, and also, in a certain degree, by that shrewd virago, his mother the Duchess of Somerset, who, however, expressed some anxiety lest such an alliance might eventually lead to “the undoing of her son.” Had Mary lived, there is no doubt but that the marriage would have taken place with state in the presence of the queen and the whole court, without the least let or hindrance.

After the funeral of Queen Mary, Lady Katherine went to the Charterhouse, Sheen, to stay for a few weeks with her mother, who was very ill at this time—like unto death. Here the matter of her betrothal to young Hertford was resumed with renewed energy. The young gentleman was invited to Sheen, where every opportunity was afforded him, under the auspices of the Lady Frances and her husband, Mr. Adrian Stokes, to meet his _fiancée_ and her little sister Lady Mary; but nothing was concluded, the marriage being left an open question, as the Lady Frances recovered soon afterwards. Both the sisters were then summoned back to the palace at Whitehall, where Elizabeth gave them apartments, which they were “to retain as their own, even when absent.” Her Majesty received her young cousins with some display of an affection which she certainly never really felt for either of them. Katherine, on the other hand, took the queen’s advances coldly; she was annoyed, so she told Feria, that Elizabeth refused to accept her as her successor, and her dignity was hurt at the fact that the queen had only made her one of her ladies of the presence, “whereas she was in the privy-chamber of the late queen, who showed her much favour. The present queen,” he adds, “probably bears her no goodwill.” Elizabeth thought it good policy, however, to keep Lady Katherine, of whom she was seriously afraid, near her, because, so far as England was concerned, she was an even greater danger to the safety of the Throne than was Mary Stuart, since Lady Katherine’s position, in the matter of the succession, was defined by two royal wills, and by a special Act of Parliament; whereas the Scotch queen’s was never confirmed, either in the wills of Henry VIII or Edward VI, nor by any Act of Parliament.

Queen Elizabeth’s court formed a striking contrast to that of her sister Mary. “Gloriana” had restored all the extravagant magnificence of Henry VIII’s time: all, save the supreme artistic taste that distinguished the best period of the Renaissance, but which had almost entirely died away by the time of the accession of Elizabeth, whose egregious farthingales, ridiculous ruffs and towering head-dresses, disfigured herself and her courtiers, and rendered them a laughing-stock to foreigners. “This queen,” says the Venetian envoy, “exaggerates everything in a manner so preposterous that instead of inspiring awe, she excites laughter. Her ruff is sometimes so high, that her face appears to be in the middle of her body. She wears more jewels than any other princess, but as she has no discernment, they look tawdry and valueless. She is a handsome woman, of dignified carriage and fairly tall. Her face is oval, her features aquiline; her eyes very black and piercing; and her hair changes its colour, but is generally red—to match her clothes.” Surrounded by courtiers and ladies attired after a similar grotesque fashion, “Gloriana” must indeed have presented a marvellous spectacle, especially when she was carried in a sort of palanquin borne by six noblemen, that made her look for all the world like a Hindu idol.

Absorbed, therefore, in her political intrigues and her private amusements, Elizabeth, who was the strangest mixture of wisdom and folly that ever occupied a throne, cared very little about her ladies’ morals. Provided they were punctually on hand whenever she wanted them, she was content to allow them to go their own ways, always, however, on the condition they created no public scandal. Under these circumstances, Lady Katherine Grey may have even preferred the greater freedom allowed under the Elizabethan _régime_, to the rigorous round of pious exercises that made up the routine of court life under Queen Mary.

Meanwhile, in March 1559, the Lady Frances being still very sick, her daughters were once more sent for, and, with the queen’s permission, arrived at the Charterhouse at Sheen one windy day towards evening. The scheme for the marriage of Lady Katherine with young Hertford was now revived with greater vigour than ever.

The Lady Frances was in such very bad health that she evidently wished, before leaving this world, to provide her eldest surviving daughter with a husband. The Lady Frances had recently given birth to a child, which, notwithstanding the attention and skill of Dr. Wendy, had died almost as soon as it was born; but although its mother failed to gain strength, her mind continued very clear. Calling one day the Lady Katherine and young Hertford to her, she declared it was her opinion that he (Hertford) “would make a very suitable husband for her daughter Katherine, if the queen would only see it in the same light; but she (the Lady Frances) would have nothing to do with the matter unless with the queen’s knowledge and consent, and that of her honourable council.” Mr. Stokes then drew Hertford aside, and taking him into an inner room, held a consultation with him. He thought, as the Lady Frances was so near a kinswoman of the queen, it would be well if she wrote Her Majesty a letter on the subject. This advice pleased Hertford, and the two gentlemen set to work to frame what they deemed a suitable letter. They, however, considered it wise, before obtaining the Lady Frances’s signature, to consult Mr. Bertie, the husband of the other dowager Duchess of Suffolk, Katherine Willoughby, who had returned from his exile in Poland, and who apparently expressed considerable sympathy with the lovers. They therefore rode to London, to the Barbican, where Duchess Katherine had her house, and not only saw Mr. Bertie, but a Mr. Gilgate and a Mr. Strikely, who were apparently in the employ of the duchess and Mr. Bertie. Whatever may have been their exact social position, they were taken into the secret, as they were probably necessary as witnesses to documents that might have to be signed. The duchess and her husband and all concerned considered it imperative that, before any further steps were taken, Elizabeth should be made aware of all that was going on, and, if possible, conciliated and induced to countenance the match. If these worthy people thought that Elizabeth was likely to be “conciliated,” they knew evidently very little about her, for of all the happenings of this world, the one she dreaded most was precisely the marriage of Lady Katherine and her having children, for, as she observed later on, “it was bad enough to have Lady Katherine to deal with, let alone to endure her brats.” She was determined, she added, “to keep the sisters Grey, spinsters.” She bore no personal dislike to either of them, if they would only do as she wished, but if they were rebellious, she would be obliged to act, in her own defence and in that of the realm.

On their return to Sheen, Hertford and Mr. Stokes found the Lady Frances much worse. Greatly alarmed, they conceived it to be their duty to act as promptly as possible. They were terribly afraid of Elizabeth, and did not hesitate to say so, even in the presence of the dying woman. They advised the duchess to send at once for her daughters, who had returned to court a few days earlier. On informing Elizabeth that their mother was not expected to live, the queen gave them permission to go back immediately, sending them in one of her own palanquins or litters. They arrived to find the duchess propped up with cushions, and looking very ill indeed. The Lady Frances, taking Katherine’s hand in hers, and stretching out her other hand to Hertford, said: “Daughter Kate, I have found a husband for you, if you like well to frame your fancy and good-will in his direction.” On this the Lady Katherine replied that she was very willing so to do, as she loved Hertford very dearly. The Lady Frances, thinking that a message from one who was so near her end might influence the queen, called her husband, Mr. Adrian Stokes, to her, and asked him to frame a letter for her which should be delivered to the queen, and he, bending over her, declared that “he would be right glad to do so.” He then, with the assistance of Hertford, wrote a draft of the letter which was to be addressed to Elizabeth, and which ran much as follows: “That such a nobleman did bear good-will to her daughter the Lady Katherine, and that she did humbly require the Queen’s Highness to be good and gracious lady unto her, and that it would please Her Majesty to assent to the marriage of her to the said Earl, which was the only thing she desired before her death, and should be the occasion for her to die the more quietly.” This draft of the letter, which was never sent, was read out at the subsequent trial which took place after the clandestine marriage of the Lady Katherine with the Earl of Hertford. Mr. Stokes on that occasion said: “My Lord of Hertford would not let me send the letter, for he took fright at the boldness of it and said he would not care to meddle any more in the matter.” Mr. Stokes did not seem to think this was a very manly thing on Hertford’s part; but Hertford was not manly, only a very small, delicate, frail-looking young gentleman, who, however, like so many other frail and sickly looking youths, contrived to live to a very advanced age. These occurrences took place somewhere in March: throughout the spring and summer the Lady Frances lingered on, a very sick woman, rarely if ever rising from her bed or her couch, but frequently visited by her daughters, who brought her kind messages and gifts from Elizabeth, still in complete ignorance of the matrimonial project. Hertford seems to have been a good deal at Sheen, though nothing was determined as to the marriage. It was apparently, under advice, deemed safest to leave the whole concern in abeyance until after the Lady Frances’s death; which took place, in the fifty-fifth year of her age, in the presence of her husband and children, on the 20th November 1559. Elizabeth gave her “beloved” cousin a right royal burial, worthy of a princess of the blood. She was represented by her chamberlain, and the court put on the mourning usual for a member of the royal family. The Ladies Katherine and Mary Grey attended their mother’s funeral, “having their trains upheld by gentlewomen.” Clarencieux stood at the head of the coffin, and cried out, at a given moment, in a loud voice: “Laud and praise be to Almighty God, that it hath pleased Him to call out of this transitory life into His eternal glory, the most noble and excellent Princess, the Lady Frances, late Duchess of Suffolk, daughter to the right high and mighty Prince, Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, and of the most noble and excellent Princess, Mary the French Queen, daughter to the most illustrious King Henry VII.” The Communion Service was then read in English, and a carpet laid before the high altar for the chief mourners to kneel upon. At the Communion, the Ladies Katherine and Mary, kneeling upon this carpet, received the Holy Communion, Dr. Jewel having previously preached the usual panegyric. When the service was over, Mr. Adrian Stokes, who had been chief mourner, went back to the Charterhouse, with his step-daughters, in the very chariot that had borne the Lady Frances’s coffin to the abbey: they literally returned on the hearse! The Lady Frances is buried in St. Edmund’s Chapel, on the south side of the abbey. Her tomb is a handsome specimen of the art of the period, and although considerably damaged, the likeness between the face of the effigy and that in the famous portrait is remarkable. Quite close to the Lady Frances’s tomb is an upright figure of a small girl, kneeling. Is this the tomb of her child by Adrian Stokes, which died in infancy; or is it, as Stow seems to imply, that of her daughter, the dwarfish Lady Mary Grey? By her will, the Lady Frances left all her possessions to her husband for life, with reversion to her two daughters. As Mr. Stokes outlived them both, they never inherited much of their mother’s property, except the proceeds of the sale of some land near Oxford and of several other manors which were in her possession at the time of her last illness, and concerning the disposal of which she wrote to Cecil some eight or ten days before her death.

The Ladies Katherine and Mary Grey, on their return to Westminster, found themselves in pecuniary straits, although their embarrassment was, it seems, relieved by Mr. Stokes, out of the money he had received from his late wife’s executors. Elizabeth welcomed her bereaved cousins with much apparent sympathy. She was, or pretended to be, most affectionate to them, and even called Lady Katherine “her daughter,” although, as Quadra, the Spanish ambassador, says, “the feeling between them could hardly have been that of mother and child.” “But,” he goes on to say, “the Queen has thought best to put her [Lady Katherine] in her chamber and makes much of her in order to keep her quiet. She even talks about formally adopting her.”

Whilst still in the early weeks of her mourning for her mother, the Lady Katherine received information that greatly distressed her. Young Hertford, so she was told, had been paying his addresses to the daughter of Sir Peter Mewtas,[62] a piece of news that made her very jealous and unhappy. Seeing the state of nervous prostration into which Lady Katherine was thrown by Hertford’s alleged infidelity, Lady Jane Seymour insisted upon knowing what was the matter, whereupon Katherine confessed to her tearfully that she had heard there was love-making between Mistress Mewtas and Lord Hertford. On the following day, the Lady Jane obtained leave to go to Hanworth, where Hertford was staying with his mother, the Duchess of Somerset. She taxed her brother, in no measured terms, with his lack of fidelity to the Lady Katherine, to which he replied that he knew nothing of the matter of the daughter of Sir Peter Mewtas, that the whole story was a falsehood, and that he was willing to live or die for the sake of Lady Katherine. He added that if she would but consent to marry him, he was willing to defy Elizabeth, and he thought that the sooner the marriage took place the better; and so saying, he drew from his finger a ring with a pointed diamond in it, and gave it to his sister to carry to the Lady Katherine. Armed with this bond of peace, Lady Jane Seymour returned to London and found Lady Katherine, to whom she gave the ring and her brother’s message. “My little love, my little love,” said Katherine, “well pleased am I that he should thus treat me,” and drying her eyes, she became once more her cheerful self.

Amongst Lady Katherine Grey’s friends at the court of Elizabeth was a certain Mrs. Blanche Parry,[63] widow of Sir Thomas Parry, and a pupil, in the occult arts, of the famous Dr. Dee.[64] Elizabeth entertained for Blanche not only a great affection, but also held her in a sort of awe. She believed implicitly in her favourite’s powers, and never a week passed that Blanche Parry was not admitted to confidential interviews with her august mistress, whose innermost secrets she possessed, and, through her knowledge of palmistry, not only shared, but even guided.

Blanche was a handsome and amiable woman, who used her influence over her mistress to the advantage of others as well as of herself. One day, Lady Katherine asked her to “do” her hand for her, and Blanche, who was probably well aware of all that was going on between young Hertford and her royal client, told her: “The lines say, madam, that if you ever marry without the queen’s consent in writing, you and your husband will be undone, and your fate worse than that of my Lady Jane.” Katherine paid very little attention to the admonition, but went her way to perdition blindly. In after years she probably remembered Blanche Parry’s sagacious advice, for she left her a legacy in her will, as also did her sister, Lady Mary Grey, another of Blanche’s clients and friends.