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TWENTY-THREE
Bess was numb. She was as stunned as if a stone wall had collapsed on her. She could not feel, she could not think, she could not function in any way. This time, fate had dealt her a blow from which she would never recover.
Robert Bestnay and James Cromp joined ranks and did what needed to be done. They dispatched messages to Lady Cavendish's family immediately and gently coaxed her to tell them what funeral arrangements she wanted made.
Her mother, Marcella, and Jane arrived with all the children and their attendant nursemaids. They were alarmed when they saw Bess. She was silent and remote as if she were in a trance.
Sir William Cavendish was buried on Allhallows, the last day of October, at St. Botolph's, Aldgate. Bess thought it would please him to be laid to rest beside his mother and father and all the Cavendishes who had gone before him. She stood at the grave, veiled in black, holding the hand of her daughter Francie, who was so much like her father. His other children stood in a row beside them as his coffin was lowered into the cold ground, and the noble mourners who had come to pay their respects could not remember such a sad sight.
Sir John Thynne was the first to approach Bess. Though he was now past forty, his tight brown curls still gave him a youthful appearance. As he looked at her, his green eyes filled with compassion. “Lady Cavendish— Bess, please accept my heartfelt condolences. If there is anything I can do to help you in any way whatsoever, I beg that you send word to me.”
Bess stared at him as if she hadn't heard a word.
Frances Grey and Nan Dudley tried to comfort Bess. All three women were united in their hatred of Mary. Bess remained silent, rigid, and dry-eyed, and her friends were deeply concerned for her. As they gathered close about her, Bess stared at the two women and murmured, “I curse her.”
During the next two weeks Bess did not speak, did not eat, and did not sleep. She had withdrawn to a place where no one could touch her, no one could hurt her again. Her heart had died with William, and she could not face the world without him. He was her bastion, her rock, her strength. William was more than her love, he was her very life. With him beside her she had conquered the world; without him she felt that she could not exist. Whenever her mother or Jane spoke to her, she did not answer, so they left her in peace and did their best to keep the children quiet.
Finally, Marcella went up to the master bedchamber to confront her. She found Bess lying on the great bed, carved with the Cavendish stags, staring up at the red silk canopy. “This nonsense cannot go on. You have abdicated your responsibilities, and it is time you came to grips with it all.”
“You do not understand,” Bess whispered.
“No, we do not. So you will have to get up off that bed, come downstairs, and talk to us.”
Bess did not respond, but half an hour later she came quietly downstairs and joined the Hardwick women in the parlor. Wearily, she told them what William had gone through during the last months. Listlessly, she told them that the queen had ruined his career and that he owed the Crown over five thousand pounds. As she quietly told them of his insurmountable problems, her mother and Jane were shocked into silence by the amount of money owed.
“Queen Mary murdered him as surely as if she had plunged a dagger into his heart,” Bess said softly.
Marcella demanded, “Aren't you going to get angry?”
My emotions are dead, Bess thought.
“So the queen wins! You are not even going to fight her!”
“You don't understand! William lost.”
“Bess, you are the one who doesn't understand. William is dead. These problems are now your problems. Lying on your bed will not solve them. The five-thousand-pound debt is your debt. You must sell the land, you must pay off the debt. The legacy William left you is not Chatsworth, it is your Cavendish children.”
Bess stood up all of a sudden. “I curse the bitch!” She ran to the front door, flung it open, and cried into the November wind, “I curse the bitch!”
The women exchanged relieved glances. Bess would be all right now that she had gotten angry.
The London house was on the Thames, the Cavendish barge moored at the water stairs. Bess went aboard and spoke to the bargeman. “Take me upriver, past Whitehall—I need the air.”
She paced the deck without so much as a shawl. The fury erupting inside her kept her warm. Silently, Bess reviled the queen, heaping curses upon her head. Bess knew she was not alone in her hatred. Mary and the Spaniard she married had revived the practice of burning heretics at the stake, and her subjects condemned such evil and loathed her.
By the time Whitehall came into view, Bess had worked herself up to full pitch. Aloud she cried, “Bloody Mary! I'm going to fight you! Not one acre of Cavendish land will I part with! Not one acre! I will see you in your grave, you bitch!”
That night, in the privacy of her bedchamber, Bess cried for the first time. Her anger had opened the flood-gates, and her other dammed-up emotions of anguish and sorrow came pouring forth.
Later, when the storm abated somewhat, she lay in the big bed with her hand upon William's pillow. “My love, when I had the fever and thought I might die, I made you swear that you would make great marriages for our children. Now I give the same pledge to you. I can do no less, William. You will always be with me in them. Help me to be strong.”
Bess appointed Francis Whitfield as bailiff of Chatsworth; her sister Jane's husband would assist him. She put Timothy Pusey in charge of the lead and coal mines. She asked Robert Bestnay to become her secretary, and James Cromp, whom she trusted with her life, became her personal assistant.
Bess sent Cromp off with a letter to her old friend Sir John Thynne, who had attended the funeral and offered to do anything he could for her. Then, accompanied by Robert Bestnay, she paid a visit to the lawyers.
Bess made her position abundantly clear. “Gentlemen, you probably believe the simplest way out of my difficulties is for me to sell Chatsworth and my northern landholdings to pay what I owe the Crown. But I have no such intent! I am going to fight, and gentlemen, when I fight it is with no holds barred. I will use every means within my power. If it is humanly possible, I will not sell one acre to pay my debt to the Crown.”
Bess had their full attention as she continued. “A bill to recover the five thousand will have to go through Parliament. I have dealt with the courts before and know how slow the process can be. It will be your job to see that the bill is delayed and delayed again. I don't care what it costs, and I don't care who you have to bribe. Cavendish taught me the effectiveness of the golden spur. I intend to put the London house up for sale today.”
