The final book in Elizabeth Fremantle’s Tudor trilogy, Watch the Lady, features a woman who was both prominent and notorious in her own time, but mostly forgotten today - Penelope Devereux. Most of those familiar with Elizabethan England will be well aware of her younger brother, Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, favourite of the aging Queen Elizabeth and, ultimately, traitor. Penelope, however, was in her own way just as dashing, just as brilliant, and just as dangerous.
The Devereux siblings were the children of Lettice Knollys, cousin to the Queen, and her first husband, Walter Devereux, Earl of Essex. Lettice was the daughter of Catherine Carey, herself the daughter of Henry VIII’s mistress Mary Boleyn and often thought to be the unacknowledged daughter of the king. Lettice is said to have looked very much like the Queen, and their relationship while Lettice was at court is usually portrayed as something of a rivalry. However, when Elizabeth’s favourite, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, entered into a secret marriage with her following the death of her first husband, she was exiled from court, and Elizabeth took much care in seeing that Robert was kept at and away from Lettice as much as possible.
Penelope came to court as a maid of honour to Elizabeth when she was 18, and her bold manner won her favour with the queen. She was much admired at court for her beauty, her musical ability and her dancing, as well as her lively manner. The poet and courtier Philip Sidney, nephew and at ine time heir presumptive of Robert Dudley, wrote the famous sonnet sequence Stella and Astrophel about her. There had been discussion of a marriage between Penelope and Sidney when the two were young, but ironically, the birth of Penelope’s half-brother to Leicester and Lettice ended Sidney’s hopes of inheriting money and titles, and the plan was dropped. Both Sidney and Penelope would marry others, and it is unknown if the sonnets were just the result of poetical fancy, or if they actually had an affair.
Fremantle begins her novel with Penelope’s arrival at court and establishment as a favourite of the Queen. Not long after her arrival, she was married, against her will, to Robert Rich, Earl of Warwick. They had a spectacularly bad marriage; Penelope was flagrantly unfaithful with at least one lover, Sir Charles Blount, and other than spending enough time with him to produce seven children, lived a relatively independent life, which he supported financially. Rich was unusually tolerant for this era, and Fremantle speculates that he was a hidden homosexual, which Penelope promised to keep secret as long as he allowed her to live freely.
Fremantle gives Penelope a significant role in the shaping of her brother Essex’s rise to power, and in the intrigues that ultimately led to his execution. It is Penelope who advises him, trues to talk him out if the worst excesses if his pride, intercedes with the Queen when she can, and helps organise his intelligence network. It is Penelope who engages in a battle of influence at court, her opponent the wily young Robert Cecil, who succeeded his father to the position of the Queen’s chief advisor. And it is Penelope who forges a connection with James of Scotland, though by the time James does come to the throne, Essex is no longer living and it is Penelope alone who benefits from the long secret alliance.
It’s a fascinating portrait of a woman who, rather like Elizabeth herself, lived her own life in a world not yet ready for strong and independent women. She used every possible weapon to achieve her goals - intelligence, beauty and sexuality - and appears to have lived life on her own terms until the end.
I also enjoyed some of the little things buried in the story. Fremantle has some literary fun, for the sharp-eyed - at one point she has Cecil regretting the recent murder in Deptford disguised of one of his chief spies. As most Elizabethan aficionados know, Christopher Marlowe was thought to be a spy for the Queen, and died in a barfight in Deptford. And there’s a scene where a bold young actor, performing at a house party at Essex’s estate, parodies the style of one of Sidney’s Stella sonnets, with one of his own - the poem is Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130, “My Mistress’ Eyes.”