The Death and Life of Amy Robsart

there's a link for that. And also very exciting, I'm teaching a writing class this fall that I'm so thrilled about. It's going to be a course on horror writing. There's a link in the episode description. What's really exciting is it's a virtual class, so you can be absolutely anywhere. It's completely remote and over zoom. I just I love teaching writing. I love talking about writing. Any programs that I've done with this course have just been so so

much fun. And so if you're interested in this podcast and you're a writer at any stage of your career, let's work together. Let's have some fun. So I think that's it for housekeeping. Let's get on with the episode. The British painter William Frederick James returned to London in eighteen fifty nine after a few years spent studying and adventuring around Italy. Once he was home, Emes set up a studio, and, like many other artists of his day, he sought a group of like minded friends that he

could paint with. Before long he succeeded, and the Saint John's Would Click was born, an association consisting of Yemes and seven other painters who all lived around you guessed it, the Saint John's Wood area of London. The members of the Saint John's Would Clique all shared an interest in historical subjects as well as narrative paintings, resulting in a body of work that recreated or reimagined moments from history

with a flare for the dramatic. James in particular was drawn to the popular genre of the quote problem picture, in which the painting depicts a scene in immediate tension and the viewer has to speculate what happens for the rest of the story. One of the most famous problem pictures was a painting by Emes in which a young boy in a Royalist household during the English Civil War is being interrogated by roundheads. The painting is called and when did you last see your father? The audience has

to fill in the rest of the story. Does the young boy, no doubt, taught to be honest, inadvertently betray his father? There's no way of knowing. That's the fun of a problem picture. What better subject for a problem picture Eames must have thought than Amy Robesart. On September eighth, fifteen sixty, Amy was found dead at the bottom of a staircase at her home. She was only twenty eight years old. Eames imagined her lying on her back at the very bottom of the staircase, her red hair trailing

gently down across her extended on. She wears a light pink gown, silken and nearly matching the pallid color of her skin. The fabric is draped almost gracefully across the stairs she had just fallen from. In reality, when Amy Robsart fell, she sustained two head injuries and a broken neck. In the painting, however, there is no clear injury to indicate a cause of death at all, she looks as though she is simply gracefully sleeping at the bottom of

a staircase. Eames chose to depict the moment of the discovery of Amy's body. Approaching her In the painting are two men, perhaps servants, one older and one younger. Their eyes, no doubt, like the viewers of the painting, are drawn in shock and awe to the beautiful young woman at the bottom of the staircase. They are faced with the same question that we are, what happened to Amy Robesart.

As intriguing as Amy Robsart's death at the bottom of the stairs may be, it's not the murder mystery that constitutes the only problem in her problem picture life, because Amy Robsart was not just any young woman dying under suspicious circumstances. She was the long neglected and now dead wife of Robert Dudley, the favorite and rumored lover of none other than her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, the First of England. Problem for Amy, Indeed, I'm Danish Schwartz and this is

noble blood. As is too often the case with women in this period, we know precious little of Amy Robesart's early life. She was born in fifteen thirty two into wealth and influence, but not nobility. She was the daughter of a gentleman farmer whose success had manifested itself in several estates, the opportunity to serve as Norfolk's justice of the peace, and according to records over three thousand sheep. Amy was her parents only legitimate child together, but she

was far from lonely. Her mother had four children from a previous marriage, and her father had a son born out of wedlock. We have basic details that indicate a relatively good young life for Amy. Her family was low charge with a good reputation, and Amy received a good education. Her father, Sir John Robesart, had recorded her birth in his personal prayer book, describing her as his beloved daughter.

Amy seems to have been slated for a pleasant and respectable, if relatively unremarkable life in the country, and then fate stepped in. In the early summer of fifteen forty nine, when Amy was just seventeen, a peasant uprising was bubbling in Norfolk.

largest city. After a failed first attempt to quash the rebellion, the Duke of Somerset, who was Lord Protector of England, sent a large army under John Dudley, the Earl of Warwick. Kett's rebellion had important consequences at English Court, but for our current purposes, the important thing to note is that Dudley, the Earl brought in to quash the rebellion, and his officers were quartered at Sir John Ropesart's home at Wyndham.

Also in tow were two of the Earl's sons, Ambrose and Robert Dudley, both going to the wars for the first time. Robert was seven, in fact, just a few weeks younger than Amy. Although Kett's rebellion would be finished within just a few days of the army's arrival, clearly young Robert and Amy had made a lasting impression on one another. Less than a year later, the two would

be married. They tied the knot on June fourth, fifteen fifty, just days before Amy turned eighteen and weeks before Robert did. The then twelve year old King Edward the sixth noted their wedding in his famously boring child king diary, which

we covered recently in the episode Edward the Sixth. Among the women, he seemed to have had fun at the festivities, noting in particular some sort of goose killing contest he observed, But he didn't enjoy Robert and Amy's wedding as much as he did a wedding he went to the day before, between Robert's older brother John and Anne, daughter of the Duke of Somerset. Praises abounded in Edward's diary for that Dudley Somerset wedding, which boasted mock battles, a masquerade, and

a delicious banquet. Edward's tween delight aside, John, Dudley and Anne's wedding had been strictly political, meant as a show of renewed friendship after the Earl of Warwick had led a coup against imprisoned and then released Somerset events for another episode. But Amy's and Robert's marriage, on the other hand, would later be described as a quote carnal marriage, a somewhat alarming term meant to suggest impropriety given that it

was a love match. Although Amy's family was plenty respectable and decently wealthy, she would have otherwise been an odd choice of bride for the son of one of the most powerful men in England. But something drew the two of them together, and for the first few years of their marriage they seemed to live a happy, comfortable in love life. By the time that King Edward the sixth died at fifteen years old on July sixth, fifteen fifty three,

things had been going well for Amy and Robert. Despite the political turmoil of the time, they had seemingly lucked their way into comfort and influence. Robert's father became a duke and then the head of Edward's Privy Council, and for several years he was the de facto ruler of England. Robert himself had joined the King's privy Chamber and held

several offices at court. Less than a year after the Duke of Somerset was executed in fifteen fifty two on trumped up treason charges that Dudley's Somerset wedding did not in fact renew much friendship or goodwill. It turns out Robert was made the keeper of Somerset House, which meant that he and Amy now had a lavish London estate of their own. Everything was simply put coming up Dudley. But as crises of succession tend to do, the death of the King changed everything for the Deadley's and would

in turn put Amy's previously blissful life upside down. As had been the case for much of her life, it was one of Amy Dudley's many confusing in laws who would cause the trouble that would begin to offend her peaceful existence. In May fifteen fifty three, just a few months before King Edward died, Robert's younger brother Guildford, Dudley

married Lady Jane Gray. If that name sounds familiar, it's perhaps because she's best known as the Nine Days Queen for her brief disputed stint as Queen of England between the young Edward and his Catholic half sister Mary Tudor. We've covered that crisis of succession before on this podcast, so I won't bore you with the details again, but just know that when Jane was deposed on the nineteenth of July fifteen fifty three, Mary Tudor and her supporters

saw the Dudley family as a threat to her session. Robert, his father, and four of his brothers were all imprisoned in the Tower of London and condemned to death. Amy was allowed to visit her husband in the tower beginning that September, but he remained imprisoned for over a year, and both his father and his brother Guildford were executed. His other brother, John, the one who had gotten married a day before him in a more fun wedding, died

of an illness shortly following his release from prison. Robert Dudley's mother worked tirelessly for her remaining son's release, and she managed to secure it after befriending the nobles who arrived with Queen Mary's new husband, Philip the second of Spain. Robert would finally be freed from the tower in October fifteen fifty four. Robert dudley imprisonment was certainly a turning

point in Amy's life. After an unimaginably terrifying year spent worrying that her husband might be sent to the scaffold at any moment. Amy also had to contend with newfound financial precarity. In June fifteen fifty four, Amy's dad, Sir John Robsart, had died, and under different circumstances, his estate would have passed to his only legitimate child. However, Robert and Amy's marriage contract had stipulated that she would not receive anything from her father's estate until both of her

parents had passed. This would have been all well and good had Robert Dudley not been attained following his release, meaning he was stripped of any property and hereditary titles. The Dudleys were left with almost nothing to call their own, rocked by scandal and relying on the goodwill of friends and family just to survive. But something else, something quieter, had begun brewing during that faithful year Robert spent in

the Tower of London. A few months into his imprisonment, Robert was reunited with an old childhood friend who was jailed for a suspected role in a recent Protestant rebellion. That friend just happened to be the younger half sister of the Queen, who in just a few short years would ascend to the throne herself as Queen Elizabeth the First.

Over the years following Robert Dudley's release from the Tower of London, things slowly began to look up for Robert and Amy, although they were not quite restored to their former financial glory. When Amy's mother passed in fifteen fifty seven, Amy and Robert were able to claim her father's estate, which allowed them to begin paying off debts. In early fifteen fifty eight, Parliament had lifted the attainder against the Dudly brothers, which restored their hereditary titles, though they could

still not claim their late father's possessions. And throughout all the ups and downs, Amy and Robert seem to have maintained a caring relationship. We can't know what either of them truly felt about the other, but we know Robert entrusted Amy with the care of their affairs when he went to war in fifteen fifty seven. And what's more, although he was entitled by law to control his wife's inheritance himself, he allowed her to have her own income.

Despite their troubles, they were making things work, and seemed to care for one another. But then, on November seventeenth, fifteen fifty eight, Queen Elizabeth the First succeeded to the throne. We have no reason to believe that anything untoward was happening between Elizabeth and Robert in the years leading up to her ascension. Many have imagined, for example, some sort of furtive prison romance while they were both in the Tower of London. This is unlikely, but they did certainly

know each other. Dudley would later remark to a French ambassador that they had been friends since the Queen was eight years old. Elizabeth may have been among the guests at Robert's wedding to Amy, and so Although oh we have no specific record of any interaction between Robert and Elizabeth while they were both imprisoned in the tower, let alone romantic or sexual interaction, it is believed that their

shared experience became a point of connection for them. From the moment of Elizabeth's ascension, Dudley was rarely away from her side. He was declared Master of the Horses within a day of her taking the throne, which sounds like a made up job, but was in fact not only important, but also guaranteed close personal access to the queen. Rumors began to swirl almost immediately of a brewing romance between the queen and her favorite. The favorite's wife was not

invited to court. Amy remained in residents at Throcking at Hertfordshire, north of London. We know almost nothing of how she filled her days while her once beloved husband was busy planning his new queen's coronation, rising to stardom at court, and receiving favor after favor along the way. It's likely she visited relatives, given that she spent the Christmas season in Lincolnshire. Of course, it's entirely possible that Amy was

content or even happy with this existence. After marrying so young and going through so much, maybe she and Robert simply grew apart. This kind of de facto separation was also quite normal in this time for a couple of Amy and Robert's social class, and after their financial troubles, Robert could not afford to abandon court simply to spend

time with his wife in the country. It's entirely possible that Amy wasn't suspicious of the amount of time her husband spent at court without her, although her own lack of an invitation might have given her pause. We know that wherever they were, Amy and Robert sent messengers back and forth with letters, money, and other goods, although the letters have since been lost, along with the rest of

the deadly family correspondence. Given how much we can't know for sure, I think it's important for us not to instinctually turn Amy into a trope, the bitter jilted wife

suffering in silence while her husband flaunt his affair. But then again, it's hard to believe that the woman who had once had a cardinal match with the handsome teenage son of an earl staying in her home, who fell in love and got married, and had been through so much with him to come out the other side, would just be fully chill about him, visibly closing up to

the Queen of England. Robert managed to make it home for a few days during Parliament's Easter recess in April fifteen fifty nine, although his visit seemed to have been primarily focused on work. By this time, just five months into Elizabeth's reign, it seemed to be public knowledge at court that the Queen and Robert were a little too close.

Shortly after Robert's return to court in April, a Spanish diploma at the Count Afaria noted in a report that Amy had been very ill quote in her breast, which scholars have guessed could refer to some sort of cancer, and that Elizabeth seemed primed to marry Robert should Amy's illness claim her life. In the same report, he observed Robert's immense power at court, as well as the fact that quote her Majesty visited him in his chamber day and night. The last time it's believed Robert Dudley ever

saw his wife was a month or so later. When Amy came to London for a month beginning in May fifteen fifty nine, she seemed in better health. It's likely that this visit was in celebration of Robert's election as a Knight of the Garter, which cemented his place as one of the most important men in England. In June, Robert moved to Greenwich with the rest of the court. Amy went back to Suffolk. By the fall of fifteen fifty nine, rumors regarding Elizaeabeth and Robert's relationship were reaching

a fever pitch. Elizabeth was dragging her feet with a bevy of foreign suitors, while many diplomats at court lamented that Robert never seemed to leave her side. It was known that Robert was married, although few at court seemed

to have ever laid eyes on his wife. Eventually, people began to assert in diplomatic correspondence no less that Elizabeth never had any real intentions for her suitors, and was in fact conspiring with her favorite Robert, to poison Amy Dudley that they could marry, or maybe Elizabeth was pregnant with Robert's child, a story that would follow Elizabeth for

the rest of her reign. One anonymous source claimed that Elizabeth actively tried to keep Robert away from his wife, going so far as to make him swear that he quote did nothing with her on the very rare occasions that he did see his wife. Of course, many of these gossipy diplomats and courtiers had a vested interest in Elizabeth marrying one of their foreign suitors or in depriving Robert, the favorite of power at court, So we have to

take all of these assertions with a huge grain of salt. Nevertheless, one thing was clear. Amy Dudley was an obstacle to whatever it was Robert was trying to do at court. Toward the end of fifteen fifty nine, away from the churning gossip mill that was the English Court, Amy moved to cunn Palace, a beautiful estate not far from Oxford in what was then part of Burke County. She was a guest there of Anthony Forster and his family, who had been close in the Dudley's orbit for many years.

Her chambers were on the south end of the complex, accessible from the outside and at the top of a set of stairs. Amy brought a small entourage of servants. She was almost certainly the highest ranking person in Cumnor, but she was likely well integrated into the community, socializing with the other women and spending a great deal of her time at church. The following several months seemed to

have passed without much change. Robert attempted a plan to visit his wife in the summer of fifteen sixty, but it didn't pan out. Rumors continued about his unusually close relationship with the Queen. He became so widely hated as court that he took to wearing a light coat of mail to protect himself from potential assassins. Amy's life continued, it seems a pace At Cumnor. On Sunday, September eighth,

fifteen sixty, Amy woke up early for some reason. That day she insisted on sending all of her servants and anyone else in the household she could out for the day to a fair at Abington. Go go to the fair, she insisted. Witnesses later stated that she seemed angry with those who questioned her wish to be alone or who refused to go to the fair that day. When everyone returned a few hours later from the fair, there she was lying at the bottom of the stairs leading up

to her chamber. Amy Dudley was dead. There is perhaps no better feeling for a historian or an archivist than discovering a piece of evidence that helps to answer a long burning historical question. It can be a historic moment in and of itself, finding something that had been lost or that we never knew existed, something that changes how we see the past. That must have been the feeling for the person who found the coroner's report on Amy's death, which was believed to have been lost in the UK

National Archives until two thousand and eight. Before this, there were a few primary theories as to what happened. First, there was the worst case scenario and also the most intriguing, that Amy Robesart was murdered. This is an old suspicion, dating back practically to the moment Amy died. In his letters written to his steward during the immediate aftermath, Robert Dudley seemed keenly aware that suspicion could fall on him. For what it's worth, it seems unlikely that Robert did

orchestrate his wife's death. In fact, her death proved disastrous for Dudley. Although he remained a prospect for marriage for Elizabeth to some extent for several more years, the scandal that ensued from Amy's death all but confirmed that he and Elizabeth would never marry. People whose spouses die under mysterious circumstances usually don't marry Queens of England. Historians have also noted Dudley's apparent distress in his correspondence following Amy's death,

which seems to indicate that he didn't expect it. Nevertheless, many, especially Robert's enemies at court, suspected or pretended to suspect him of following through on a plot to kill his wife so that he could marry Elizabeth and become King. John Appleyard, Amy's half brother, suspected foul play, although he

did not believe Robert Dudley to be responsible. Several years later, in fifteen sixty seven, John was approached, apparently on behalf of the Duke of Norfolk and the Earl of Sussex, whose representatives offered a cash reward in exchange for John

publicly accusing Robert Dudley of having murdered Amy. By this point, Dudley was the Earl of Lester, and the accusations certainly would have helped jealous rivals take his reputation down a peg, but Appleyard reportedly refused, and he went to Robert with his concerns. Robert was apparently furious both at the plot against him and that his wife's death remained a matter of speculation despite the case having been closed for several years.

The Privy Council investigated the plot and imprisoned Appleyard to interrogate his claims regarding these high level officials. John was questioned by members of the Privy Council but recanted his story In the end, and he requested to see the coroner's report, which he said alleviated his concerns. Given Amy's strange behavior on the mourning of her death, not to

mention her marital woes, Rumors of suicide also abounded. This theory seems to have been first put forward by Amy's d devoted Maide Missus Picto, who, despite saying she believed the death was an accident, admitted that Amy could have had thoughts of suicide. For those of you who love the CW show Rain like I do, you know that this theory has had some cultural sticking power. Spoiler alert

for future seasons of Rain. The fictionalized Amy Robesart in the show ended her own life in order to create a scandal that would prevent her husband from marrying Elizabeth. That's almost certainly an intriguing, dramatic twist on an already unlikely theory, but the folks at Rain were not the first to think of it. The coroner's report reflects the third alternative, a simple tragic accident. It was previously believed that Amy's injuries could not have been sustained accidentally from

a fall. In fact, this belief was grounded in a detail that stems from a satirical pamphlet published after her death, which stated that her head dress or her hood remained upright on her head following the supposed quote unquote fall. But that was just a bit of gossip. There was

no factual truth to that story. In the twentieth century, professor of medicine, Ian Aird put forth what became a prevailing theory, which was that Amy indeed suffered from breast cancer which metastasized to her spine and weakened it, which could have made a relatively short fall fatal. In fact, because we know that the head dress detail was fabricated, it's entirely possible that Amy did have an unfortunate, deadly fall,

unaided by illness or outside forces. Although the discovery of the report provided answers in some ways and perhaps helps us narrow down the potentialities, the intrigue surrounding Amy's death is too big to be tamped down by a single piece of paper. The discovery in two thousand and eight brought speculation to a new level not seen in many years, but it just continued the mystery because, according to the coroner's report, the head injuries listed could reasonably have resulted

from accident, suicide, or foul play. She fell down the stairs and hit her head. We don't know how or why she fell down the stairs. In a confused using twist, the report opened up the possibility of an accident, but aside from offering us the official opinion of a jury, it doesn't rule out the alternatives. While most modern historians have absolved Robert Dudley of responsibility for his wife's death, and many have issued the idea of foul play altogether,

the idea of a murderous plot has remained enticing. Some have ventured that someone at court with reason to smear Robert Dudley, that is, just about anyone, could have orchestrated the murder to frame him. Some scholars and enthusiasts have put forth Elizabeth's chief adviser, William Cecil, although it seems unlikely he would have risked either the Queen's or his

own reputation just to ruin Roberts. Several scholars have suggested that though the jury in the end did decide the official cause of death was an accident, someone, maybe even Robert Dudley, could have influenced the jury, but that raises even more questions. He could have influenced them to say it was an accident to cover up a murder, but it also could have been to cover up a suicide,

because an accident would have been considered less shameful. Amy's grave has been lost, although a floor slab remains dedicated to her at Saint Mary's Church in Oxford. Without a body, we may never know for sure what happened to her, and it's likely that speculation will continue as it has in waves, possibly forever. For his part, Robert Dudley went on to remain at the center of Elizabeth's court for

the rest of her life. Although he and perhaps Elizabeth also entertained hopes that they might someday be able to wed, Eventually Robert accepted the fact that it would never happen. He married Latise Knowles, a cousin and, if portraits are to be believed, a look alike of Queen elizabeths in secret in fifteen seventy eight. When Elizabeth found out about the nuptials, she permanently banned Latis from court and refused

to even acknowledge the marriage. But no scandal would ever stick to Robert, quite like his first wife, Amy Robsart. The satirical pamphlet that first put forth the Headdress Story, a story that furthered the murder theory for literally hundreds of years, and which was the first appearance of Amy's death in print, was published in fifteen eighty four, almost twenty five years after Amy's death and six years into

Robert's new marriage. When it comes to gossip and scandal at court, you never forget your first That's the story of Amy Robesart. But stick around after a brief sponsor break to hear a bit more about the longer legacy of her tragic death. William Frederick Eames was not the only painter to find a perfect elusive subject in Amy Robsart. Earlier in the nineteenth century, the romantic artist Richard Parkes

Bonington depicted her alive with Robert Dudley. Although the term romantic in the artistic sense referred to a painting style rather than literal romance in the subject, Bonnington's painting was romantic. Robert, who in reality had ignored Amy for much of their marriage, is depicted looking lovingly at his wife, who faces him, hand on his chest, looking demurely and perhaps even flirtatiously downward.

The painting is saturated with warm hues, with Amy's vibrant orange dress drawing the eye to her and her beloved. A pet dog looks up at its owners, completing the scene of domestic bliss. It is certainly a different story from the one we remember best. The nineteenth century saw the first quote revival of interest in Amy's death following the eighteen twenty one publication of Sir Walter Scott's novel

Kenilworth dramatizing the topic. Speculation about Amy's death roared back to life, and artists were enthralled by the figure of Amy as the tragically beautiful victim of adultery, murder, or possibly both. Painters took the opportunity to imagine her likeness, and fantasy portraits, usually sad and contemplative, she pines for her husband or looks off into the distance. One painting has her at the top of those fateful stairs, also gazing wistfully off in the distance as she begins her

final descent. Then there's EM's painting, which gets right to the point in showing us that interest in Amy's life is really almost always interest about her death. Bonnington's painting, however, offers us a rare glimpse into something else, the life Amy and Robert had early on in their marriage, or perhaps the life they could have had if things turned out differently. Amy's gaze is not out into the great beyond, but centered within the painting, toward her husband and her pet.

A hint of a smile plays at her lips. Here. Amy Robesart is not Elizabeth's foil, the jilted other woman, or an obstacle to Robert's social climbing. She's a person, loving and beloved with her own hopes and dreams for how her life would turn out, and not just what would happen at the end of it.

producers Aaron Manke, Alex Williams, and Matt Frederick. For more podcasts from iHeartRadio, visit the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.