The Other Tudors by Philippa Jones Page A

Henry VIII was talking about a divorce, why shouldn’t he marry his old mistress and legitimise their son? Unfortunately for Bessie, Henry had already fallen in love with Anne Boleyn. Two years later, she married again, to the young and handsome Edward Fiennes Clinton. One of the King’s attendants, Clinton was the son of Thomas, Lord Clinton and Saye, and had been made a royal ward when his father died during his minority.
    According to the Dictionary of National Biography , ‘she [Bessie] was old enough to be her boy-husband’s mother.’ Actually Bessie was in her mid-thirties and her husband Clinton (born in 1512) was 22, hardly a ‘boy-husband’. She was already the mother of four children, and with Clinton, Bessie had three daughters: Bridget, who married Robert Dymoke (a cousin of Lord Tailboys); Katherine, who married William, Lord Burgh; and Margaret, who married Charles, Lord Willoughby of Parham.
    Clinton went on to forge a formidable career. A charming and talented young man, in 1540 he started in the service of Lord Lisle, the Lord High Admiral, and in 1544 led the fleet supporting an attack on Edinburgh. For his services, he was knighted by Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford and Duke of Somerset ( Jane Seymour’s brother and Lord Protector under Edward VI). Between 1547 and 1550, Clinton was governor of Boulogne and in May 1550 he was appointed Lord High Admiral. A year later he became a Knight of the Garter. His skills were recognised so that, although he was deprived of his post during the early years of Queen Mary’s reign, he was reappointed and carried on as Lord High Admiral under both Mary I and Elizabeth I.

    Henry VIII kept a firm eye on his beloved son, Richmond, moving him between royal palaces so as to always have him near. Between 1530 and 1532 he principally lived at Richmond Palace. His life at Court is beautifully described in a poem written by his dearest friend and brother-in-law, Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey:
    … As proud Windsor, where I, in lust and joy,
With a king’s son my childish years did pass …
The large green courts, where we were wont to hove,
With eyes cast up unto the maidens’ tower,
And easy sighs, such as folk draw in love.
The stately sales; the ladies bright of hue;
The dances short; long tales of great delight;
With words and looks that tigers could but rue,
Where each of us did plead the other’s right …
The gravelled ground, with sleeves tied on the helm,
On foaming horse, with swords and friendly hearts …
In active games of nimbleness and strength
Where we did strain, trailed by swarms of youth,
Our tender limbs, that yet shot up in length …
The wild forest, the clothed holts with green,
With reins availed and swift ybreathed horse,
With cry of hounds and merry blast between,
Where we did chase the fearful hart a force … 15
    Eustace Chapuys, the Imperial Ambassador (1529–45), wrote that when travelling in the company of the Duke of Norfolk, he had been told that the King himself had selected Surrey as Richmond’s ‘preceptor and tutor … so that a friendship thus cemented promises to be very strong and fair.’ 16 Thus, Surrey was to be Richmond’s mentor as Mountjoy had been the King’s. The young men hunted deer and played tennis, but mostly turned their attentions to the young ladies of the Court. In the evenings there was dancing and the young men pleaded each other’s case to the giggling girls. Marriages would be arranged, but it was no sin for a young lady of the gentry or the minor nobility to become the mistress of a Royal Duke, like Richmond, or the heir to the country’s premier dukedom, like Surrey. If Richmond should become king, and Surrey, then Duke of Norfolk, should be his closest friend and adviser, a mistress of either might expect to do very well out of any liaison. It was common for members of the nobility to break the rules and indulge in love affairs outside matrimony.
    One fascinating reference is to the tennis matches: