A Treasury of Royal Scandals: The Shocking True Stories History's Wickedest Weirdest Most Wanton Kings Queens Read Online Free
circumspect in her dealings with her favorite, she denied any misbehavior by irritably pointing out the attendants who surrounded her at all times and made any secret dalliance nearly impossible. “Although,” she concluded in a proud snit, “if I had the will . . . I do not know of anyone who could forbid me!”
Indeed, at twenty-five, the new queen was enjoying the intoxicating sensation of being free for the first time in her life to do exactly as she pleased. And although she was determined never to marry—or risk pregnancy by a fully realized affair—she was happy to wallow in the overtly sexual company of her handsome Master of the Horse, wagging tongues be damned. The fact that Dudley was married and came from humble origins with a tainted family history 4 posed no obstacle to the increasingly scandalous affair. Even the suspicious death of his wife, who ended up at the bottom of a stairway with a broken neck, was only a temporary damper. In fact, the intense relationship with the queen lasted until his death in 1588.
Devoted as she was to him, though, Dudley was by no means the only man in Elizabeth’s life. She basked in the attention of foreign princes seeking her hand, and of increasingly younger courtiers like Sir Walter Ralegh and Robert Devereux, the Earl of Essex (Dudley’s stepson), all of whom professed to worship her. Through it all, the queen played the wily coquette, absorbing all the professions of love yet never committing to anyone.
Inheriting the tremendous vanity of her father Henry VIII, she encouraged the ritualized cult that surrounded her as she grew older. Flattery was the name of the game and Elizabeth’s suitors played to win, rhapsodizing endlessly about her magnificent beauty and glorious majesty. The courting rituals grew rather pathetic as the queen reached the end of her forty-four-year reign. Balding, with blackening teeth from too much sugar consumption and thick, white pancake makeup to cover her smallpox-scarred face, she was hardly England’s rarest beauty. Yet the rewards were potentially great enough for men to attempt to convince her that she was.
Elizabeth’s cousin and heir, James I, also reveled in the attention received from handsome young courtiers. One of his favorites was George Villiers, whom he gave the title of Duke of Buckingham. A contemporary wrote about the king’s relationship with Buckingham and his predecessor in the king’s affections, Robert Carr, Lord Somerset: “Now, as no other reason appeared in favour of their choyce but handsomenesse, so the love the King shewed was as amorously conveyed as if he had mistaken their sex, and thought them ladies; which I have seene Sommerset and Buckingham labour to resemble in effiminatenesse of their dressings; though in W[horeson] lookes and wanton gestures, they exceeded any part of woman kind my conversation did ever cope with all.”
It is perhaps ironic that those fundamentalists repulsed by homosexuality would condemn King James by citing the very Bible that bears his name. In any event, his preference for men was not uncommon among British kings. William II, Richard I—the lion-hearted hero-king of the Robin Hood legends—and Edward II were all reputed to have been gay.
Charles II, King James’s grandson, was anything but gay. He had a fleet of paramours that help explain his moniker, “The Merry Monarch.” He wasn’t choosy either, drawing his lovers from all levels of society and siring scads of bastards by them. “A king is supposed to be the father of his people and Charles certainly was father to a good many of them,” noted George Villiers, son of the first Duke of Buckingham. Yet while his many mistresses bore him lots of children, his queen, alas, could not. With no legitimate heir to succeed Charles upon his death, the crown passed to his brother, James II, in 1685.
Before she married and became half of the William and Mary comonarchy, James II’s eldest daughter was a
Indeed, at twenty-five, the new queen was enjoying the intoxicating sensation of being free for the first time in her life to do exactly as she pleased. And although she was determined never to marry—or risk pregnancy by a fully realized affair—she was happy to wallow in the overtly sexual company of her handsome Master of the Horse, wagging tongues be damned. The fact that Dudley was married and came from humble origins with a tainted family history 4 posed no obstacle to the increasingly scandalous affair. Even the suspicious death of his wife, who ended up at the bottom of a stairway with a broken neck, was only a temporary damper. In fact, the intense relationship with the queen lasted until his death in 1588.
Devoted as she was to him, though, Dudley was by no means the only man in Elizabeth’s life. She basked in the attention of foreign princes seeking her hand, and of increasingly younger courtiers like Sir Walter Ralegh and Robert Devereux, the Earl of Essex (Dudley’s stepson), all of whom professed to worship her. Through it all, the queen played the wily coquette, absorbing all the professions of love yet never committing to anyone.
Inheriting the tremendous vanity of her father Henry VIII, she encouraged the ritualized cult that surrounded her as she grew older. Flattery was the name of the game and Elizabeth’s suitors played to win, rhapsodizing endlessly about her magnificent beauty and glorious majesty. The courting rituals grew rather pathetic as the queen reached the end of her forty-four-year reign. Balding, with blackening teeth from too much sugar consumption and thick, white pancake makeup to cover her smallpox-scarred face, she was hardly England’s rarest beauty. Yet the rewards were potentially great enough for men to attempt to convince her that she was.
Elizabeth’s cousin and heir, James I, also reveled in the attention received from handsome young courtiers. One of his favorites was George Villiers, whom he gave the title of Duke of Buckingham. A contemporary wrote about the king’s relationship with Buckingham and his predecessor in the king’s affections, Robert Carr, Lord Somerset: “Now, as no other reason appeared in favour of their choyce but handsomenesse, so the love the King shewed was as amorously conveyed as if he had mistaken their sex, and thought them ladies; which I have seene Sommerset and Buckingham labour to resemble in effiminatenesse of their dressings; though in W[horeson] lookes and wanton gestures, they exceeded any part of woman kind my conversation did ever cope with all.”
It is perhaps ironic that those fundamentalists repulsed by homosexuality would condemn King James by citing the very Bible that bears his name. In any event, his preference for men was not uncommon among British kings. William II, Richard I—the lion-hearted hero-king of the Robin Hood legends—and Edward II were all reputed to have been gay.
Charles II, King James’s grandson, was anything but gay. He had a fleet of paramours that help explain his moniker, “The Merry Monarch.” He wasn’t choosy either, drawing his lovers from all levels of society and siring scads of bastards by them. “A king is supposed to be the father of his people and Charles certainly was father to a good many of them,” noted George Villiers, son of the first Duke of Buckingham. Yet while his many mistresses bore him lots of children, his queen, alas, could not. With no legitimate heir to succeed Charles upon his death, the crown passed to his brother, James II, in 1685.
Before she married and became half of the William and Mary comonarchy, James II’s eldest daughter was a
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