Fortune and personality carried William St. Loe onward. In the forties of the sixteenth century he appears as seneschal of Waterford, and complains bitterly of the way in which he is hampered in office by the Lord Chancellor in Ireland. The contention of his official companions, however, as given in a letter to the Court, describes him as “a good warrior, but unfit to administer justice.” Military disorder is stated to be the result, and if the complainants only “had the disposal of the farms Seyntlow now has” things would be very different. It is suggested that he is turning into a regular freebooter.... And so on.
However this may be, we find the gentleman in 1557 not only safely established in England, but holding important Court posts with high-sounding titles. He is at once Grand Butler of England and captain of the Queen’s Guard. In these capacities Bess Hardwick, as Lady Cavendish, must have already met him. Had she not married him and had he lived long enough, she might have been committed to his tender mercies and guardianship in a very different sense. But at present her genius for intrigue only threw her into the apparently pleasant fetters of marriage. This “Grand Botelier,” this dashing swashbuckler who now rode at the head of the royal guards, and was in constant touch with the governor of the Tower, with the interior of which building she made acquaintance later, took her as his second wife. The whole thing seems to have been most amicable, affectionate, and excellent—amicable and affectionate on his part, excellent from her point of view. It did not interfere with his important duties; it did not necessarily nail her to the Court. Above all, it did not interfere with her building. Indeed, it gave her the more heart to it because the good captain would now assume by her side the duties of Derbyshire host. Moreover, he could help her materially in her building. She did not need his advice about architecture of course. But she saw that she could draw under her hand the dues of his manor in Gloucestershire for the glory of the Cavendishes and the surer foundation of her own comfort. The fine dashing soldier had children. Yet this was no serious block in her way. She might arrange it all, while leaving them not destitute but dependent on her wise financial dispositions. The marriage was duly solemnised and gave satisfaction. The Queen approved of my Lady St. Loe, and the more so because the latter did not wish to monopolise her bridegroom. There was enough at the Derbyshire estate to amuse her, and Sir William’s letters to her kept her advised of things “about” the Queen’s Majesty. Scottish affairs were brewing hotly. Elizabeth was but newly a queen. There were processions and enactments, enquiries, and excursions at Court. Bess Hardwick held the post of Lady of the Bedchamber, and naturally took the keenest interest in all that went on. Except through letters, reliable news did not filter at all to the wilds of the Peak and its lovely dales. But Sir William loved her and appreciated her deeply. In his affectionate letters he identifies her quaintly and sweetly with her house. “My honest, sweet Chatsworth” is one of the expressions. Elsewhere she is “My own, more dearer to me than I am to myself,” and in another letter he has seized her enthusiasm for management and construction, for he calls her “My own good servant and chief overseer.”
Occasionally Bess wanted her “grand botelier” to herself, and it must have been hard for Sir William to tear himself away from the rich security and ease of the house. One of his letters from Court shows that he is in trouble with his Queen for delayed return.
Photo by Richard Keene, Ltd., Derby, from the picture at Hardwick Hall
By permission of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire
SIR WILLIAM ST. LOE
“She hath found great fault with my long absence, saying she would talk with me farther and that she would well chide me. Whereunto I answered, that when her highness understood the truth and the cause she would not be offended. Whereunto she says, ‘Very well, very well’; howbeit, hand of hers I did not kisse.”
A portrait which hangs in the great gallery at Hardwick shows the writer of the following letters (quoted in Hunter’s Hallamshire) in his habit as he lived—a kindly fellow, but at this period not a man of power.
Sir William Saint-Loe to Lady Saint-Loe.
“My own, more dearer to me than I am to myself, thou shalt understand that it is no small fear nor grief unto me of thy well doing that I should presently see what I do, not only for that my continual nightly dreams beside my absence hath troubled me, but also chiefly for that Hugh Alsope cannot satisfy me in what estate thou nor thine is, whom I regard more than I do William Seyntlo. Therefore I pray thee, as thou dost love me, let me shortly hear from thee, for the quieting of my unquieted mind, how thine own sweet self with all thine doeth; trusting shortly to be amongst you. All thy friends here saluteth thee. Harry Skipwith desired me to make thee and no other privy that he is sure of mistress Nell, with whom he is by this time. He hath sent ten thousand thanks unto thyself for the same: she hath opened all things unto him. To-morrow Sir Richard Sackville and I ride to London together; on Saturday next we return hither again. The queen yesterday, her own self riding upon the way, craved my horse; unto whom I gave him, receiving openly for the same many goodly words. Thus wishing myself with thyself, I bid thee, my own good servant and chief overseer of my works, most heartily farewell: by thine who is wholly and only thine, yea and for all thine while life lasteth. From Windsor the fourth of September by thy right worshipful master and most honest husband master Sir
“William Seyntlo, esquire.