Star Chamber therefore not only treated Hertford in a manner that must have been most pleasing to the spiteful Sir John Mason, but even exceeded his suggestion in the matter of the fine. Maybe Mason had had some quarrel or words with the earl, that led him to write so bitterly; although even his mother, the duchess, can have had no very high opinion of him, since she speaks of his “wylfulness.” Elizabeth now ordered Sir Edward Warner, Lieutenant of the Tower, to be arrested and forthwith confined in that fortress over which he had lately ruled supreme. He had indeed been imprisoned there once before, for alleged complicity in the Wyatt rebellion, and had only been reinstated as lieutenant at Elizabeth’s accession. Through the influence of Cecil, his close friend, Warner contrived to regain his freedom, after his second imprisonment, in 1563; but he lost his post, this time for good, and retired into the country.
Meanwhile the House of Commons had been holding lengthy debates about the troubles of the two young victims of Elizabeth’s persecution, and many of the Puritan, or extreme Low Church, party, who favoured Katherine’s right to the Throne, were very much inclined to believe in the validity of the marriage, and consequently, in the legitimacy of the two children. In the meantime, Elizabeth released Lady Margaret Lennox, whom she had confined in the Tower on an obscure charge—a liberation on which the Reformers looked askance, for though Margaret stood nearer the Throne than Katherine, being a daughter of Henry VIII’s eldest sister, Margaret Queen of Scots, she, as a Roman Catholic, was regarded by the Protestants as a danger to their cause. Her husband, the Earl of Lennox, had also been imprisoned some months earlier, but was set free about November 1562. Quadra, in mentioning this fact, states that it took place “by the favour of the Earl of Pembroke and Lord Robert [Dudley], who are much against Lady Katherine.” He also confirms what we have said above. “I think,” he adds, “that the liberation of Lennox has two objects: first, to hinder Lady Katherine by providing a competitor; and secondly, to give a little satisfaction to the Catholics, who are desperate at Lady Margaret’s misery, and place all their hopes in the Queen of Scots and the husband she may choose. By giving them some hope that the succession may fall to Lady Margaret and her son, they may cool somewhat towards the Queen of Scots. All this is convenient for the queen, who wants to have the power to declare her own successor when she likes.”[80]
In the summer of 1563, the plague broke out in London with such violence, and made so many victims within the precincts of the Tower, that Lady Katherine, greatly alarmed, begged Cecil to intercede with the queen for her removal from the infected fortress. Elizabeth at once consented, signing (August 21, 1563) an order[81] expressing her “contentation” that the Lady “Catharyne” should be sent to her uncle, Lord John Grey,[82] at his seat at Pirgo, near Havering-atte-Bower and Hainault Forest in Essex. This nobleman, be it said, was not very friendly to his niece. Still—“any port in the storm”; and it was certainly better to go to Pirgo with an unpleasant relation, than to stay in London with a chance of dying of the plague. With the Lady Katherine went her baby son and a goodly number of nurses and attendants. Hertford, as the warrant shows, was also removed from the Tower, and sent, with the eldest child, Edward, to Hanworth, to the house of the old Duchess of Somerset, his mother. Shortly after her husband’s execution, this handsome—but haughty and ill-tempered dame—had married, as already stated, Sergeant Newdigate,[83] who was now entrusted with the duty of conducting Lady Katherine to Pirgo. He led the caravan which escorted her and her baby, with their attendants and baggage, from the Tower; and on their arrival at Pirgo, which was before the end of August, made himself very disagreeable both to Lady Katherine and to Lord John.
Meanwhile, a little comedy occurred with respect to the tattered furniture in the Tower of London. Sir Edward Warner, after his dismissal from the lieutenancy, had retired to Plumstead, near Norwich, where he had a country house. As soon as he heard Katherine had been transferred from the Tower to Pirgo, he wrote to Cecil, demanding compensation for furniture and hangings which he had lent to the imprisoned lady, when under his care. “Sir,” he writes, “my Lady Katherine is, as ye know, delivered [from the Tower], and the stuff that she had—I would it were seen. It was delivered to her by the queen’s commandment, and she hath worn, now two years full, most of it so torn and tattered with her monks [i.e. monkeys] and dogs as will serve to small purpose.... Besides,” he continues, “my Lady Katherine had one other chamber, furnished with stuff of mine, the which is all marred also.” He goes on to suggest that it would not be unreasonable, considering its dilapidated condition, if he were granted the furniture allotted to Lady Katherine out of the royal Wardrobe, as well as his own. “It was,” he says, “delivered by the queen’s pleasure.... If I have it not, some of it is fitter to be given away than to be stored into the Wardrobe again, and that I justify with my hand. If he [the Lord Chamberlain] like not that I have the bed of down, I shall be content to forbear it. I send you here enclosed the bill of parcels,[84] with some notes in the margent truly written.” He concludes his appeal—from “my poor house at Plumsted”—by rather ambiguously wishing Cecil “prosperous felicity, with increase of godliness.” Whether Sir Edward Warner ever got his coveted goods and chattels or not we are unable to ascertain. Neither are we informed whether Katherine conveyed her “monks,” her dogs, and her other pets to Pirgo; it is probable enough that she did, for one of her pet dogs was with her when she died a few years later.
The journey to Pirgo, notwithstanding that it was performed in one of Elizabeth’s own travelling coaches—a ponderous vehicle, that required four Flemish cart-horses to drag it along the ill-kept roads—must have been very fatiguing for a woman in Lady Katherine’s delicate condition. Pirgo, too, though a fine old mansion, dating far back into Edward III’s time, and surrounded by a moat, did not present many of the “modern improvements,” even of those days: it is described as “very draughty, damp, and cold.” The Lord John had lately made some alterations, but they do not seem to have been very important. The gardens of Pirgo—and this may have been some consolation to the prisoner—were exceedingly fine; and the park was one of the grandest in Essex.
[CHAPTER VII]
LADY KATHERINE AT PIRGO
The prisoner’s life at Pirgo seems to have been tolerably peaceful and comfortable. Although her uncle continued to treat her coldly, nevertheless, before the end of August (1563), the month in which she reached his house, Lord John Grey wrote to thank Cecil for obtaining “this indulgence from the queen for his niece.” She herself also addressed a similar letter to Cecil dated the “thred” of September;[85] but very soon after, she seems to have been overcome by an attack of profound melancholy, and even the kindness of her aunt—this lady was a daughter of Sir Anthony Browne, and therefore a stepdaughter of Katherine’s friend, the “Fair Geraldine”—failed to cheer her drooping spirits.