The Murder in the Tower: The Story of Frances, Countess of Essex

“I am out of hope of any good in this world. My brother Howard has been here and there is no comfort left. My husband is as well as he ever was, so you see in what miserable case I am. Please send the doctor news of this; he told me that all would be well and that the lord I love would love me. As you have taken pains to help me, please do all you can, for I was never so unhappy in my life as I am now. I am not able to endure my misery, for I cannot be happy as long as this man liveth. Therefore pray for me. I have need of your prayers. I should be better if I had your company to ease my mind. Let the doctor know this ill news. If I can get this thing done you shall have as much money as you can demand, for I consider this to be fair play.

Your sister,

Frances Essex.”

Wilson was really alarmed. He was certain that the Countess was planning to poison her husband; he knew that she was sending messages to London and he believed that she was either writing to her lover there or to those who were sending her the powders. He, who had lived in London, knew that many professional poisoners existed as well as dabblers in witchcraft; and he was certain that Frances Essex was in the hands of some of these people.

If it were so, the Earl’s life was in danger, for he, Wilson, could not hope always to be lucky enough to save him.

As a man of the world he believed there was one way of saving the Earl’s life and that was to let the Countess enjoy her lover.

To some extent the Earl confided in Wilson, who had become a close friend as well as a servant, and although Wilson was always careful to show no animosity toward the Countess, at length he persuaded the Earl that Lady Frances might be more amiable if they left Chartley, a place which she declared she hated and regarded as a prison.

The Earl saw the wisdom of this and when he proposed a visit to Frances’s parents’ country house at Awdley- end in Essex, Frances agreed with alacrity.

She was certainly more amiable when they journeyed southward and once or twice deigned to speak to her husband without first being addressed.

The Earl’s spirits rose; but Wilson was as watchful as ever. He did not trust the Countess.

When, at Awdley-end, the members of Frances’s family reproached her for her attitude, she listened meekly and then asked for news of the Court.

She pretended to be upset by the death of the Prince of Wales, but she cared nothing for that. She listened avidly for every bit of information about Robert Carr, and she yearned to go to Court. In London she would be able to visit Dr. Forman and Mrs. Turner, and she believed her salvation lay with them. She would see her beloved Robert again and if he had ceased to think of her during her absence, she was certain that with the aid of the clever doctor and her sweet Turner she could soon win him back again.

She was restless and unhappy but less so than she had been at Chartley.

And at last Essex agreed that they should return to Court.

THE ENEMIES

The marriage of the Princess Elizabeth to the Elector Palatine had been delayed on account of the mourning for the Prince of Wales. Henry had died in November and the wedding did not take place until February, which meant that the Elector and his retinue had to be housed and entertained during that period at a great cost to the royal exchequer. James reckoned that his daughter’s marriage had cost him almost a hundred thousand pounds.

His courtiers had vied with each other to be the most splendidly attired at Court, and James had insisted that his dear Robbie should shine more brightly than any because that was only due to his beauty. Therefore he lavished costly jewels on his favorite; and while his affection was strongest for Robert Carr, he did not forget his other lads, who were handsome enough to show off fine clothes and jewels.

There was the Queen who, although she was prostrate with grief and in any case was not pleased with the marriage of her daughter, still must be expensively clad; and the cost of her wardrobe was only a little less than the six thousand pounds which had been spent on Elizabeth’s wedding clothes and trousseau.

As for James himself, he must remember that he was the King and in the presence of foreigners should make a good show; he was ready to do this as long as his garments were as well padded as they were bejeweled and he was not expected to wash.

So Elizabeth was married in Whitehall Chapel and looked beautiful in her white dress, her golden hair falling about her shoulders, with a crown of pearls and diamonds set on her head. She was led to the chapel by Charles— now growing handsome and with the new dignity upon him of being heir to the throne—and Henry Howard, Earl of Northampton. The Queen had wept quietly while the Archbishop of Canterbury performed the ceremony; and James knew that she was thinking of losing her daughter to a foreigner as she had lost her son to death.

The celebrations which followed the wedding must necessarily be somewhat subdued because although it was three months since Henry’s death he could not be easily forgotten.

It was Robert Carr who suggested that the farewell banquet should be held at his own castle at Rochester; and the King, delighted to see his dear Robbie host to the Court, gladly agreed.

The last farewells had been said and Elizabeth had sailed away from England to her new home, while the Court returned to Rochester Castle to be entertained a few days longer by Viscount Rochester before returning to Whitehall.

The castle which stood on the banks of the Medway was a splendid example of Norman architecture; it had clearly been built as a fortress, situated as it was on a hill with its principal tower offering views of the country and river. Robert Carr was proud to possess it, for it had been the scene of many a historic occasion since it had been built in the year 1088 by the Norman monk Gundulph, who had been Bishop of Rochester and a celebrated architect. It was an ideal place in which to house the Court and that he could do so was an indication of how quickly he had risen since the death of Salisbury.

Robert was being dressed by his servants in his own apartments when the man whom he had come to regard