Bess of Hardwick

The Other Red Head: Much Married, Much Widowed, Master Builder, and The Richest Woman in Elizabethan England

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Published twice monthly, this newsletter is free. Each edition focuses on a woman in history, or trend or event that impacted and/or defined women in history. I am an historian and writer specializing in Historical Fiction. This is a personal selection, and a deliberately eclectic group - everyone from Nefertiti to Harriet Tubman to Jane Grey and Molly Brandt and back again.

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Bess of Hardwick

She was born in Derbyshire in 1527. England and France were, for once, at peace. But trouble was brewing. Henry VIII was in love with Anne Boleyn and the pope had just refused him a divorce. In 1534, The Act of Supremacy was passed, breaking with Rome and making Henry head of an independent Church of England. From now on, who was Catholic and who was not would matter. It was against this background of what must have been almost unimaginable change that Bess grew up.

One of a passel of children of very minor landed gentry, Bess Hardwick was 12 when she was sent to into service at Codnor castle. Now a picturesque ruin not far from Derby, Codnor was then the home of the Zouche family, relatively minor aristocrats. In all likelihood, Bess would have been a combination maid, dresser, companion to Lady Zouche. This was an accepted form of education for the impoverished but gently born. Bess traveled to London with the Zouche family and, at some point, met Robert Barlow, the son of another Derbyshire gentleman. She was 15 and he was 13 when they married in 1542. It didn’t last long. Robert died, and Bess was widowed for the first time in 1543.

Having left the Zouche family, sixteen year old Bess now went into the service of the Greys. They were distant cousins of her own family, and not so distant cousins of the Tudors. Being a Lady in Waiting to Frances Grey, mother of the about-to-be-ill-fated Lady Jane Grey was a distinct step up. Bess stepped even higher when, four years later in 1547, she married William Cavendish. Twenty years Bess’s senior, Cavendish was a man of standing who had, briefly, been treasurer to the new boy King, Edward. As Lady Cavendish, Bess made her first appearance at court, and took over the running and management of her first major household.

William and Bess Cavendish were married for 10 years, during which they had eight children and invested in number of properties. One, which came up for sale at a knockdown price thanks to an adultery scandal, would be linked with Bess forever and become one of the most extraordinary houses in England. They bought Chatsworth on the last of December, 1550, for 600 pounds, a bargain even at the time.

Set in glorious country near her own family’s home, Chatsworth established a pattern for Bess. Developing an eye for good buy, she began to collect parcels of land, most of them in and around Derbyshire, and to take an active interest in both renovation and building. Unfortunately, it was a costly hobby. When William Cavendish died in 1557, his widow found herself in significant debt. It took a little time, but she corrected the problem. Two years later, in August, 1559, Bess married the older, and very wealthy, Captain of the Queen’s guard, William Saint Loe. Evidence suggests they were happy. William Saint Low was certainly fond of his wife. When he died in 1565, he left her everything.

Her third marriage only lasted six years, but by the end of it Bess Hardwick was finally, at 38 years old, independently wealthy. She had weathered all the ructions of Henry VIII and his wives, witnessed Edward’s brief reign, survived Mary Tudor, and was acquainted with Elizabeth, five years her junior, who became queen in 1558. The two women knew each other, but were not friendly. Their relationship was something more like wary respect. Both Elizabeths, both red heads, both famously shrewd, they probably recognized something in one another - a kindred spirit that was perhaps more dangerous than comforting. This may only have increased when, some time in early 1568 - the exact date is unknown - Bess Hardwick married her fourth and final husband, one of the nation’s wealthiest men, George Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury.

As Countess of Shrewsbury, Bess was now both immensely wealthy - in her own right and thanks to her husband - and powerful. At the time, there was only one living duke, the Duke of Norfolk, so on marrying Shrewsbury and becoming his countess, Bess became one of highest ranking women in the country. She immediately consolidated her position by marrying two of her children to two of her new husband’s, one of whom was his heir. It may have been this intoxicating rise that, six years later in 1574, persuaded Bess that it was a good idea to arrange a marriage for her daughter that, not to point too fine a point on it, gave Elizabeth fits. Pissing Tudor monarchs off was dangerous business, and there was background that makes this move by Bess, who was normally both shrewd and fairly cautious, even more uncharacteristic.

Here’s the background: shortly after the Talbots were married, Scotland was thrown into turmoil when Mary Queen of Scots attempted to get rid of her first husband, Darnley, by blowing him up. That didn’t work out so well. But he was assassinated anyway while she was kidnapped, or not, by Bothwell, whom she married two weeks later. The Scots had by this time decided they’d had about enough of her, so they chased her around Scotland for a while before she fled into England, sure, for some reason, that Elizabeth would welcome her. (Bothwell had conveniently taken himself off to raise troops that never materialized.) Elizabeth however, as we all know, did not welcome Mary, primarily because Mary had a bad habit of insisting that she was rightful Queen of England, but also because the exploded then stabbed Darnley had been her cousin.

Catholic to boot, Mary had trouble written all over her. She was also a queen, and having queens - who tended to have large numbers of attendants , all of whom had to be fed and housed and in Mary’s case, watched in case they tried to have you killed - as house guests was expensive. Of course, as a refugee, Mary had no money. Elizabeth herself, like all monarchs, was perennially short on funds. So, she solved the problem by giving Mary, and all her expenses, to the Earl and Countess of Shrewsbury.

What was supposed to be a huge honor - guarding the fugitive Queen of Scots - rapidly became a huge, and expensive, pain. Little did they know it was also to be a long-running one. Bess and George would be burdened with guarding and feeding and watching and housing Mary and her retinue of thirty for fifteen years. It not only took a toll of their purses and their marriage, it also made them, and especially Bess, vulnerable to gossip and suspicion, some of it dangerous. Mary was a magnet for plotters. As hostess to a royal, if unwelcome, guest, Bess was obliged to spend a great deal of time with her. Rumors that they were too close were quickly picked up and passed on by Shrewsbury’s enemies at court.

All of which makes it even more inexplicable that, in October 1574, Bess decided that it would be a wonderful idea to marry her youngest daughter - yet another Elizabeth - to the dead Darnley’s younger brother, Charles Stuart who, among other attractions, had a claim to the throne due to the fact that he was Elizabeth’s cousin.

In one stroke, Bess made her daughter more or less sister-in-law to Mary, whom Elizabeth feared and loathed, as well as aunt to Mary’s son, James VI of Scotland. This was heady stuff for a girl from Derbyshire. Unfortunately, arranging a marriage for anyone with any claim to the throne, no matter how remote, without the monarch’s permission was, thanks to The Royal Marriage Act, high treason. When news of the match reached her, Elizabeth reacted accordingly. The queen flew into a classic Tudor rage, throwing Charles Stuart’s mother into the tower and ordering the Countess of Shrewsbury to London.

The long and the short of it was - Bess survived. But her relationship with Elizabeth, never great to start with, did not. Under torture, several Shrewsbury servants admitted to passing messages for Mary. Things got worse when one of them claimed that Bess’s best friend, Lady Frances Cobham, was also implicated. Lady Cobham vanished into deepest Kent while the queen vented her fury on the Earl of Shrewsbury. She would undoubtedly have been even more furious if she had known that Mary Queen of Scots had agreed to be the godmother of baby George Talbot, the first child born to Bess’s daughter and Shrewsbury’s son.

There is evidence that Shrewsbury himself did not know about Bess’s matchmaking until after the fateful wedding. It’s entirely possible since he was at court, Bess wasn’t, the plans she made were for her daughter, and she wasn’t given to asking permission before making her own arrangements. If so, it’s hard not to imagine that having this sprung on him, and having to be johnny on the spot, target for Elizabeth’s rage, might have rubbed Shrewsbury the wrong way. As far as Bess is concerned, it is equally hard to know if this was all an uncharacteristic lapse of judgement combined with a desire to see her youngest daughter ‘make a good match’ even if it was one that might land her in the tower, or a deliberate power-play - a nose-thumbing at Elizabeth who, like so many others before her, Bess might have thought it was safe to bet against.

Whatever the case, Bess hid herself away at Chatsworth, which she was now busy remodeling on a grand scale. Wisely, she kept her head down. The years passed, ten of them, until what had clearly been growing friction in the Shrewsbury marriage - egged on by Mary Queen of Scots who, having fallen out with Bess, decided to help alienate her husband by spreading rumors about Bess’s supposed lovers while not exactly quenching the rumor that Shrewsbury himself was her lover, truly the Houseguest from Hell - finally exploded into open warfare. Literally. In August, 1584, George Talbot arrived at Chatsworth with forty armed men. His wife wasn’t home. As soon as she heard he was coming, she fled back to her parents’ house, Hardwick Old Hall, which she’d bought the year before.

The Shrewsbury’s were finally relieved of Mary the following year, when Elizabeth finally relented and appointed a new jailer. But if their finances recovered, their marriage didn’t. Drama blossomed into a feud that only ended when George Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, died in November, 1590. Finding herself widowed for the fourth time, Bess Hardwick became hands down the wealthiest woman, and probably person, in England.

She had spent the previous five years tearing down and rebuilding her parents’ house. Now, with Mary and Shrewsbury both dead, and with virtually unlimited funds, she abandoned that project and decided to build the grandest house anyone, including Elizabeth, had ever seen. And, she did.

Hardwick Hall, More Glass than Wall was completed in 1599. The house, which has survived intact, is extraordinary. Right next to Hardwick Old Hall where she lived as a girl, the two houses are a testament to how far Bess came in her life. Combined they are her story in stone, the record that she constructed. Hardwick Old Hall is her past. Hardwick Hall is all she achieved - a monument to her power, and to her sense of herself as a survivor, a creator, a force in the world to be reckoned with. Great rows of windows look out across her beloved Derbyshire. Towers crown each wing. At their top, her initials E S are intertwined, just in case anyone ever forgets she was there.

Five years older than Elizabeth, Bess of Hardwick outlived the queen by five years. She died in 1608 at the age of 81 and was laid to rest in her, equally impressive, tomb in what is now Derby Cathedral.

Where to Find Her

Owned and maintained by The National Trust, Hardwick Hall, near Chesterfield in Derbyshire, is open to the public. Right beside it, Hardwick Old Hall, which is owned by English Heritage, is also open to the public. One ticket covers both. Hardwick is an easy, and rewarding, stop off the M1. The Hardwick Inn, a lovely old coaching inn on the south boundary of Hardwick Hall’s park doesn’t have rooms, but is a great place to stop for a bite. If you want to stay a few days, English Heritage rents out The East Lodge at Hardwick Old Hall at Hardwick Old Hall, a gorgeous two bedroom ‘cottage’ that is dog friendly, too.

Bess’s other Great House, Chatsworth, is the seat of (some of) her descendants, the Dukes of Devonshire. Set in glorious parklands, it has been added onto and changed since Bess’s day, which doesn’t make it any less wonderful. The house itself is extraordinary, and holds a wonderful, and extensive art collection. The parkland and gardens alone are worth multiple visits. If you want to stay, and you should, the Chatsworth EstateThe Chatsworth Estate owns a lovely hotel in Baslow, within walking distance, as well as pubs with rooms in the estate villages. If you want to stay longer, or really treat yourself, stay at one of the Chatsworth Boltholes, a gorgeous selection of cottages, houses and even a hunting tower that you can rent on the Chatsworth estate. And, don’t worry too much about supplies if you do - the Chatsworth Farm Shop has everything you could possibly need from ice cream to wine to fantastic ready-made meals. You can find it all, and book, on the Estate website.

You can also find Bess at Oxburgh House in Norfolk. A gorgeous moated manor house in the village of Oxoborough, owned by The National Trust and open to the public, it is the home of theOxburgh Tapestries, an extraordinary collection of needlework done by Mary Queen of Scots and Bess, when they were friends. Many of the designs are symbolic - of what, you can guess. Mary used her needlework to communicate, and it’s all too easy to imagine her and Bess, heads bent, stitching and plotting. This is well worth a visit, and the house itself is also lovely, and interesting. Grab lunch, or even a bed at The Bedingfeld Arms, right across the village green.

What To Read:

The hands down best biography of Bess is: Bess of Hardwick, First Lady of Chatsworth by Mary S. Lovell. Ababcus, 2005. Well written, terrific bibliography, cracking story.

For more on Bess and her relations to buildings, and building as symbols of power in Elizabethan England, see Devices and Desires by Kate Hubbard. Chatto and Windus, 2018.

Bess left behind over 230 letters which give an extraordinarily vivid picture of both her, and of life in Elizabethan England, one seen and lived by a woman. There is a great podcast on them accessed via The National Archives Media Player

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