Jean Plaidy - The Murder in the Tower - The Story of Frances, Countess of Essex

Even when the autopsy revealed that Prince Henry had died from natural causes, the rumor still persisted that he had been poisoned; and the names of Robert Carr and Overbury were mentioned in this connection. It was said that the Prince had hated his father’s favorite and had stood in the way of his promotion to even greater honors. Carr had a reason for wishing him out of the way; and it was known that Overbury was Carr’s creature.

James, who had shown greater courage than the Queen during the Prince’s illness and had been at his bedside even though warned of the contagious nature of his illness, scorned these suggestions; and bade Robert put them from his mind.

“Why, lad,” he said, “’twas ever the same. A prominent person dies and the word Poison is bandied from mouth to mouth. The autopsy shows the cause of death and in time all will come to accept it.”

Robert was grateful for the King’s sympathy but he was uneasy. It was unpleasant to be suspected of murder.

One evening the guards at St. James’s were disturbed by the figure of a naked man; he was tall and fair, and in the dim light had a look of the Prince.

“I am the ghost of the Prince of Wales,” cried the naked one. “I have come from the grave to ask for justice. Bring my murderers to the scaffold. It is where they belong.”

Some of the guards fled in terror, but two, bolder than the rest, approached the man and saw that he was not the Prince of Wales.

They hustled him into the porter’s lodge and there demanded to know who he was.

“The Prince of Wales,” he answered. “Come from the grave for justice.”

“This is a trick,” said one of the guards. “Someone has sent him to do this. We’ll find out who.”

They then took a whip and proceeded to lash the fellow until he screamed in agony. But he persisted that he was the ghost of the Prince of Wales.

Ghosts did not allow themselves to be beaten, the guards were sure. They tried to force him to confess he was a human being trying to trick them; but he persisted in his story, and they kept him there through the night, every now and then trying, as they said, to make him see reason and confess the truth.

In the morning news of what had happened was carried to the Palace and brought to the ears of the King, and James himself went to the porter’s lodge to see the ‘ghost’ of Prince Henry.

He frowned when he saw the marks of lashes on the naked body.

“Why,” he said, “did ye no understand that the man is sick? He’s suffering from the same fever that carried off the Prince. He’s in need of doctors, not lashes.” He tried to soothe the man whose mind was clearly wandering. “Don’t ye fret, laddie. You’ll be taken care of.”

He gave orders that the man should be cared for and inquiries made as to who he was.

It was soon discovered that he was a student of Lincoln’s Inn who had left his bed, deposited his clothes in an open grave and wandered on to the Palace.

On the King’s orders he was looked after in the porter’s lodge; and one evening when his nurses went to his bed, they found he had disappeared.

It was presumed that he had wandered out of the lodge, perhaps in an effort to find his way back to the grave which he believed he had left.

Some boatmen thought they saw him at the river’s edge and, as he was never seen again, it was believed that he had drowned himself in the Thames.

The rumor of poison died down; but it was not entirely forgotten. Rather was it laid away to be brought out in the future when people were reminded of it.

INTRIGUE AT CHARTLEY CASTLE

W hen Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex , traveling from Court with his reluctant bride, was within two or three miles of Chartley Castle he found that the people of the neighborhood had come out to welcome him. He acknowledged their greeting with bows and smiles and felt wretchedly uncomfortable when he saw their astonished looks directed toward the beautiful but sullen girl riding beside him.

Frances stared straight ahead of her as though she did not see these people. She was not going to pretend that she was a happy bride.

Her beauty must attract attention, for although it was a little marred by her thunderous looks it was no less remarkable.

When they entered the old castle and found the servants lined up, waiting to pay homage, she walked past them and did not glance at one of them, so that it was clear to all that there was something very unusual about their master’s marriage.

“The Countess is weary with the long journey,” said Essex. “Let her be shown her apartments without delay so that she may rest.”

“I am not in the least weary,” retorted Frances. “While at Court I have been in the saddle for hours without feeling the slightest exhaustion. But let them show me my apartments.”

A dignified manservant signed to two young women, both of whom hurried forward, curtsied afresh to the Countess and turning, made their way up the wide staircase.

“Come, Jennet,” said Frances; and without another glance at her husband, followed the two serving girls.

“What a draughty place this is,” complained Frances. “One might as well have lodgings in the Tower. They could not be more uncomfortable. Where are you taking me? Is it to the apartments occupied by the Queen of Scots, when she too was a prisoner here?”

“I am not sure, my lady, where the Queen of Scots had her apartments,” said the elder of the servants.

Frances shuddered. “Poor lady. How she must have suffered!”

They had reached a corridor and were confronted by a spiral staircase. When they had mounted this they came to the apartments which had been prepared for the Earl and his Countess.

The rooms were luxuriously furnished, and from the windows was a view of the lovely Staffordshire countryside.

Frances looked at the big bed and her eyes narrowed.

She turned to the serving girls.

“You had better tell me your names.”

The elder, a girl of about twenty, said: “I am Elizabeth Raye, my lady.” She turned to her companion who appeared to be about sixteen. “And this is Catharine Dardenell. We have been selected to wait on you.”

Frances surveyed them intently, trying to assess how loyal they would be to the Earl. It might well be that she would need them to perform special services for her. She decided to try to win their confidence.

“I am sure you will do all you can to help me,” she said; and her face was transformed by the smile she gave them.

They curtsied in a rather embarrassed fashion.

“We shall do our best, my lady,” murmured Elizabeth Raye.

“Go now and bring me food. I am hungry. Bring enough for my maid here, too.”

“Yes, my lady. But a supper is being served in the great hall and the cooks have been planning for days what they would give my lord and lady on this day.”

“I shall not eat in the great hall. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“When you bring the food, knock on the door. It will be opened to you, if the two of you come alone.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Go now, because I am hungry.”

When they had gone, Frances turned to Jennet.

“Take the key from the outside and lock the door from the inside.”

“My lady …”

“Do as I say.” Jennet obeyed.

“Of one thing I am certain. He shall not come into this room.”

“Do you think that you can hold out against him, here in his own castle?”

“I must hold out against him.”

Jennet shook her head.