Curators pick traitors!

To many in Tudor England, Robert Dudley was a notorious traitor. Yet he managed to dodge accusations throughout his life. Swept up in his father’s plot to crown Lady Jane Grey, Dudley was thrown in the Tower by Mary I in 1553. Though he left the fortress with his head intact, Dudley continued to attract suspicion as the powerful favourite of Elizabeth I. He was long rumoured to be her lover – an accusation she always denied. But Dudley was her near-constant companion and a much-discussed marriage candidate. One problem? He was already married. When Amy Dudley (née Robsart) was found dead at the bottom of a staircase in 1560, suspicion soon fell on her ambitious husband. Dudley was away at the time, and Amy’s death was ruled an accident. However, his conveniently single status encouraged virulent rumours at home and abroad. Queen Elizabeth never married Dudley, but their attachment continued to create scandal. His secret marriage to Lettice Knollys enraged the Queen, whilst enemy whispers warped Dudley into a conniving villain who exploited his position for power and wealth. Favourites like Dudley played a dangerous game, risking everything to stay close to the Crown. Despite all the rumours, lies and love triangles, Elizabeth trusted her faithful ‘sweet Robin’ until his death in 1588.

Simon Fraser, 11th Lord Lovat, the last man in Britain to be beheaded, died on Tower Hill in 1747 for his involvement in the failed 1745 Jacobite rebellion, led by Charles Edward Stuart (‘Bonnie Prince Charlie’) to overthrow George II. Following the Jacobite defeat at Culloden, Lovat, aged 80, was captured and brought to the Tower. While Lovat was confined at Fort Augustus, Colonel Joseph Yorke met him and recalled, ‘he has begg’d to make [the journey to London] by land, for he says the sea would certainly kill him […] as nobody wished him any other Death than the axe.’ Never without a quip, when Lovat was finally brought to the Tower, according to the writer, Horace Walpole, the wily old highlander boasted that if it was not for his age, he should have escaped with ease.

Throughout his trial, Lovat remained belligerent. Elizabeth Yorke, whose father conducted the trial as Lord High Steward, observed that Lovat was ‘complaining of blindness & deafness yet reading without spectacles & hearing when convenient.’ Walpole was more critical: Lovat ‘behaved ridiculously, joking and making everybody laugh even at the sentence’. Lovat certainly had his critics, but I secretly admire his roguish spirit in refusing to go quietly!

Thomas Blood is probably best remembered for trying to steal the Crown Jewels in 1671, yet – astonishingly – escaping punishment. Not only did Charles II pardon him but also restored his lucrative estates in Ireland! Some say that the King found Blood entertaining, or amusingly audacious. However, stealing the Crown Jewels was only the last of many treasonous acts. Blood was a dissenting Anglo-Irish army officer. When the First Civil War started in 1642, he initially supported the Royalists. He later switched sides to follow Cromwell. As a reward, he received land in Ireland and was made a justice of the peace in 1653.

Following the Restoration, his estates were confiscated. After this setback, Blood embarked on a not terribly successful criminal spree, aided by fellow disgruntled Cromwellians. Under Blood’s leadership, they plotted to storm Dublin Castle and kidnap and murder the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. When all these failed, they joined an uprising against the Crown in Scotland (another fail!). Blood fled to the Netherlands (then at war with England) in 1666, proving himself influential and dangerous – a good reason, perhaps, for the King deciding to buy his loyalty. Finally – a win for Blood!

Is there anything more traitorous than deposing your own father?

In 1688, Mary II agreed to overthrow her father, James II, in the ‘Glorious Revolution’. Her justification? Mary was a staunch Protestant, married to a Prince of Orange, whereas her father had converted to Catholicism before succeeding to the English throne in 1685. In 1688, the consort queen and Mary’ s stepmother, Maria Beatrice of Modena, gave birth to a baby boy – a potential Catholic heir. Protestant panic ensued, and seven bishops wrote ( in code ) to Mary and her husband William asking them to take the throne from James.

Even before the birth of Charles Francis Edward Stuart, nicknamed ‘the old pretender’ by some, Mary and her father had exchanged polite letters in which they discussed their religious differences. Mary now saw it as her duty to save England from Catholicism. After William’ s fleet arrived at Torbay in Devon on 5 November, 1688, King James, and his family fled into exile in France, leaving William and Mary the English throne. Heartbroken by what he regarded as his daughter’ s treachery , and that of her sister Princess (later queen) Anne, James did not even attend Mary’ s funeral in 1694. However, her actions grieved Mary for the rest of her short life. She wrote frequently that unfortunate events or bad feelings were her punishments and tests from God for her part in the Revolution.

Surely not! Arbella is better known as one of the more poignant figures associated with our palaces. A great-granddaughter of Henry VII, she possessed one of the strongest hereditary claims to the English throne during her lifetime.

Well educated and with literary interests, Arbella enjoyed a privileged lifestyle, spending time at Hampton Court Palace and other royal residences, However, in 1610 she secretly married William Seymour, a descendant of Henry VII, without the permission of James I. The marriage united two dynastic claims, raising fears that Arbella and William could become the focus of political opposition. Conveniently branded as a traitor, Arbella was placed under house arrest.

In 1611, she attempted escape with her husband. William reached Flanders safely but sadly Arbella was captured and confined in the Tower of London. She died there in 1615, possibly from illness, or starvation. To me, Arbella was neither rebel nor conspirator in the conventional sense. Rather, she was a casualty of dynastic politics and, it could be argued, of her defiance in the face of mortal danger. Her fate, like that of many before her, encapsulates the ‘curse of royal blood.'

Perhaps the most famous traitor ever (Alan Carr aside) Guy, or Guido, Fawkes even has his own commemoration every 5 November. Notorious for ‘gunpowder, treason and plot’, Fawkes was born in York in 1570 and converted to Catholicism when young. He fought in Catholic Spain, and returned to England in 1604, now part of a passionate group of Catholic conspirators. Angry at James I’s intolerance of their faith, they plotted to assassinate the King and his heir while they attended a session of Parliament. The plotters leased a cellar under the House of Lords and planted barrels of gunpowder; Fawkes had the job of lighting the fuse at the crucial moment. But the plotters were betrayed and Fawkes was caught red-handed. Arrested and taken to the King, Fawkes defiantly told him his only regret was failing. He was then interrogated in the Tower of London to reveal his co-conspirators, resisting until the King sanctioned ‘harsher tortures’, which likely meant the rack. He was executed for treason in Old Palace Yard, Westminster, in January 1606.

Guy Fawkes was guilty of one of the boldest acts of treason in British history and paid the ultimate price. However, I can’t help but admire his determination, defiance and sheer nerve: he really was the ultimate traitor.