Let’s Party Like It’s 1572: Elizabeth I’s Summer Progress and the Fireworks That Set Off the Dudley vs. De Vere Rivalry
- Dorothea Dickerman
- 1 day ago
- 6 min read
“My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one word:
Let me for this my life-time reign as king.”
- Henry VI, Part III, I.i
❤️🔥Ready for another Elizabethan road trip?
This time, we’re ditching the dreary winter slog to Dover (👉 ❄️ A Mid-winter Night’s Nightmare: The Queen, the Duke and the Drama) and joining Queen Elizabeth I and her court in the heart of Warwickshire for the summer of 1572’s hottest event! Even Mary Queen of Scots begged for an invitation! (Spoiler Alert: Not a snowball’s chance in Kenilworth’s kitchens.)
But we’re on the guest list to witness the fireworks. Of every kind. In fact, this story sets off all sorts of sparks—on the ground, in the sky, and between rivals.
👬The Dudley Brothers: Power, Politics and Party Tricks
Our hosts? My favorite Elizabethan bad boy, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, and his loyal side-kick and brother Ambrose Dudley, Earl of Warwick. They aren’t just serving up venison tartare and wine spritzers at your average summer moat party. They’re staging an all-out charm offensive to launch a marriage proposal. Leicester has been single since the curious death at the bottom of a staircase of his wife, Amy Robsart, 12 years ago. And, it’s no Elizabethan secret that he has a yen to become King Robert I of England to make up for his father’s and grandfather’s double attainders and disgraces.
Leicester’s problem? He had planned on achieving his goal by marrying his sovereign and longtime lover. But Elizabeth was pushing 39 (worrisome for a queen without a legitimate heir) and he’d heard more than one whispered rumor that her royal eye had been roving elsewhere.
Leicester wasn’t sure exactly where. But he had an idea.
He had been secretly strengthening Kenilworth as a strategic fortress and arsenal for years—stocked, fortified, and staffed with his loyal men – just in case. But this August, the brothers turned both their castles into alternating stages for events to rekindle the Queen’s special favor.
Here’s how the historical events of those 12 days played out:
🎭 Act I: Rain, More Rain, and Misfired Royal Hints
August 11–13, 1572 – Warwick Castle
The entire court arrived at Ambrose’s Warwick Castle in a downpour so heavy that Elizabeth’s carriage had to detour to avoid mud-bogged roads. Yet, as the townspeople knelt in welcome in the pouring rain, she received a grand speech on the castle’s history, a gift of 200 crowns (which she refused, but then happily accepted) and an acrostic poem imagining her as a mother if she married.
She got the hint.
“My Lord, this is contrary to your promise,” she was overheard whispering to Leicester.
Ouch.
🦌 Act II: Hunts, Dances, and “Princely Sport”
August 13–16, 1572 – Kenilworth Castle
In a couple of days, Elizabeth left her household at Warwick but moved her personal sleeping quarters to Kenilworth, where Leicester rolled out every romantic entertainment he could muster. There was hunting, dancing, feasting, and “princely sport” in the park.
But with Queen Elizabeth, all romance was political. Her entourage included her guests, the French Ambassador and a French envoy opening negotiations for a royal marriage on behalf of the Duke of Alencon, youngest brother of the King of France.
Was she stoking a rivalry between Leicester and the French duke as she stroked the keys of her spinet, then raised her cup of wine to toast her French guests?
💥Act III: Edward de Vere Lights Up the Sky . . . and a Bit More
August 18, 1572 – Warwick Castle
Enter Edward de Vere, the 22-year-old 17th Earl of Oxford. Dashing, mercurial, theatrical, poetical, musical (did I mention brilliant?) —and about to make a big statement.
That night, under the eye of Queen, the French and her court, he staged a mock military battle that rattled windows for miles and shook the heavens in more ways than one.
Two canvas-covered forts, one commanded by Oxford, the other by his friend, Fulke Greville, erupted into a dazzling clash with fireworks. Two hundred forty men as soldiers-at-arms discharged their rifles and enough live gunpowder to wake half of Warwickshire. They hurtled balls of fire. Mortars boomed. A dragon flew through the air on a guywire spouting flames from its mouth. The wildfire soared, dropped into the River Avon, and phoenix-like, rose again in flashes and flames. The cacophony! The showmanship! The thrill!
Until . . .
A flame landed on a farmhouse where a couple lay sleeping (really?) and reduced it to a pile of ashes. Other fires broke out in town. Oxford and his crew scrambled and doused the flames. Elizabeth paid for the damage quietly. No one was injured.
Oxford, for all the chaos, had made his unforgettable entrance on the grand stage of Elizabethan power politics. He was now undeniably there.
💔 Act IV: Who’s Wooing Whom?
August 19–23, 1572 – Back to Kenilworth
Elizabeth returned to Kenilworth. Did she favor Leicester? Or was she warming her lips for a French kiss? Or was Oxford the new royal flame? One curious report from years later suggests that at the time, she was pursuing . . . Oxford:
“The Earl of Oxford said the Queen did woo him, but he would not fall at that time.” – John Pole (aka Poole), July 25, 1587 (PRO SP 12/273)
Although young, Oxford had a plan of his own to win the duel of power and influence with Leicester that would unfold over decades.
🩸Final Act: From Kenilworth to The Saint Bartholomew’s Day Massacre
But as Elizabeth’s reveling court was packing up and congratulating itself on a summer of festivities and flirtation, continental Europe erupted in horror.
August 23, 1572 – Paris
At the same time as the summer party was in full swing at the Dudley bros’ chateaux, in France, the Duke of Alencon’s sister Marguerite de Valois was marrying her distant cousin, Henri de Navarre. Navarre was Protestant and Marguerite was Catholic. Their royal marriage was trumpeted as a grand gesture of religious peace.
But, on the night of August 23, 1572, the Catholic French court turned swords, pikes and halberds on its Protestant guests. Over 10,000 French Protestant Huguenots were slaughtered in what became known as the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre.
Days would pass before the shocking news crossed the Channel.
Elizabeth’s England would never forget it.
💡Why This Elizabethan House Party Matters
This wasn’t just a summer party. It was a strategic display of flirtation, ambition, and political maneuvering:
Leicester’s (2nd to last? 3rd to last ?, well, . . . one of his) last-ditch efforts to rekindle the flame in Elizabeth’s heart and gain the throne.
Ambrose Dudley’s admirable stand as loyal brother.
An overture of royal marriage to unite France and England against Spain.
Edward de Vere’s thunderous debut in a blaze of gunpowder and bravado to steal Leicester’s spotlight.
So, let’s party like it’s 1572. While this party flashed, then faded like summer lightening, it was the last of its kind before the depths of hatred between Catholics and Protestants became apparent and politics at home and abroad became much more dangerous.
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