This is the story of Sir Humphrey Radcliffe and his romantic courting of Isabel Harvey. For those interested, I have included my lineage back to Sir Humphrey at the end of this true story.
King Henry VIII had announced his intention of being present at a tournament in the tilt-yard at Hampton, and great preparations had been made for the occasion. As the king rode along the way from London, the windows and the balconies about Kensington were all hung with colored cloths and silks. Among the crowd of spectators in the balconies was a plain citizen of London, Edmund Harvey, along with his wife and their daughter Isabel. The ladies in the neighboring windows thought the latter nice looking, and even pretty; but no one 'knew who she could be,' as the old folks were but commonplace in appearance, and clearly had not been brought up in the regions of courts and cities. The father, as may be imagined, pointed out the nobles as they passed by with their trains and retinues; but Isabel had no ears for her father, and her eyes scanned each new arrival for the face of a youth whom she had met on a chance occasion, and who had professed an attachment to her, in spite of the fact that she was not the daughter of a courtier or a noble.
At length there rode along a body of knights, with their lances borne aloft and their colors flying in the wind; they were headed by the Earl of Sussex, who was attended by his son Humphrey, a fair and well-favored youth, who looked little more than twenty years of age. Isabel, however, had no difficulty in recognizing him and the black steed on which he sat, and which champed the bit and foamed beneath his rein.
The truth is that they had met before at another tourney, when Sir Humphrey had incurred the scorn and displeasure of some of the king's courtiers because of a slight civility and courtesy which he had shown to herself, her father, and her mother, whom none of the gallants knew by sight or by name, their names not having been entered by the Heralds on the rolls of the ‘College of Arms.' Eagerly did Isabel lean over the balcony in the hope of catching his eye, and grateful did she feel for a sudden halt, which was occasioned by the pressure of the crowd.
The young knight, however, was too deeply engaged in thought to take notice of the gay and smiling occupants of the balconies above his head, for he little imagined that Isabel Harvey would be among the company. But as they moved on a few steps he was roused from his reverie by a start of his horse, caused by the fall of a glove from one of the balconies. Gallantry prompted him to pick up the glove and to return it to its fair owner. Upon looking up, his eyes met those of the fair Isabel; and as he returned to her the glove on the point of his lance, and she bowed her thanks, he felt that she was not insensible to his regard for her. He quietly watched his opportunity to fall back from the gay procession as it moved along, and guided his horse down a narrow side lane, where he remained till the pageant had passed by. His object in so doing was to prevent his father, the earl, from noticing Isabel; for he well knew the haughtiness of his temper, and his zeal for the dignity of his order, and his inflexible ambition to ally his son to the heiress of some noble house or other.
Having emerged from his retreat, the young knight came again beneath the window, and, after bowing in a courtly manner, addressed the father of Isabel, who was just about to leave the balcony. On their descending into the street, the young knight dismounted, and accompanied them back to the city, leading his horse, and entertaining them, as they passed along the Strand and through Fleet Street, by his lively and elegant conversation. On reaching their home near Cheapside, Edmund Harvey pressed the knight to join them at their meal, and he gladly closed with the invitation. So well indeed did be succeed in gaining the confidence of his newly-found friend, that ere they parted the knight confessed to him his love for the fair Isabel, and received her father's permission to ask her hand, if she had no objection.
The rest of this story may be easily imagined. On the morrow the knight accompanied them back into the country, and, representing himself to be only one of the gentlemen of the earl's retinue, he espoused the fair Isabel a few days afterwards in the priory church of Elstow. For many months-indeed, it may have been years- -he did not disclose the full secret of his rank, nor did the fair Isabel know that she had a claim to be styled 'My Lady; The secret, however, oozed out at length ; and in due course of time their union was blessed by the birth of sons and daughters, the eldest daughter of whom became one of the special favorites of Queen Elizabeth.
Immediately on the accession of `her highness' she made Humphrey Radcliffe a knight, and gave him a post at court near her person, and took his eldest daughter, Mary, as her 'Mayden of Honor and Gentelwoman of the Privie Chamber'--a post which she filled `honorably, virtuously, and faithfully for forty years,' as her monument tells us.
It was in the year 1566, on the 13th day of August, that Sir Humphrey Radcliffe died at Elstow, and he was buried a week later in the chancel, as stated above, by the side of his affectionate and faithful wife Isabel, and soon afterwards one of his sons erected to their memory the memorial already mentioned.
As for Mary Radcliffe, she suffered less than perhaps any other person about the Court from the whims and caprices of her royal mistress. Being possessed of great penetration and judgment, together with a high sense of honor and unshaken fidelity, she could not fail to command the esteem even of 'the Maiden Queen.' Although remarkable for her personal beauty, she was inaccessible to the flatteries of the fops and gallants by whom Elizabeth was surrounded, and many a smart repartee and rebuff was received by the courtiers who tried to turn the head and the heart of Mary Radcliffe. On one occasion, indeed, writes Sir Nicholas Le Strange in an anecdote communicated by Lady Hobart, ‘Mistress Radcliffe, an old courtier in Queen Elizabeth's time, told a lord whose conversation and discourse she did not like, that his wit was like a custard, having nothing good in it but the soppe, and, when that was eaten, you might throw away the rest.`
Throughout the long period of her services at Court, Mistress Radcliffe bore a character unblemished by a spot of evil fame or reproach. She looked upon herself, she would say, as a New Year's gift, for it was on that day in 1561-2 that she was first presented by her father to the Queen's Majesty, and accepted by her ; and never afterwards, to the end of her days, did she fail to give the Queen--who loved all sorts of presents, and did not think it ‘more blessed to give than to receive'--some kind of annual remembrance of that eventful morning.
As she was still living to make her yearly present on the new year of 1600, Mistress Isabel Radcliffe might very justly be called an old courtier of the jealous Queen, who was not very firm in her friendships, or very scrupulous about discharging those who failed to please her. The actual date of her death is not recorded by 'the unlettered muse' of Elstow.
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The Genealogy of my 14th Great Grandfather Sir Humphrey Radcliffe is below:
Sir Humphrey RADCLIFFE (1509 - 1566) is your 14th great grandfather
Edward RADCLIFFE (1535 - 1643) Son of Sir Humphrey
Eleanor RADCLIFFE (1550 - 1628) Daughter of Edward
Alice WHITEBREAD (1578 - 1628) Daughter of Eleanor
Sargeant Thomas SPENCER (1607 - 1687) Son of Alice
Sarah SPENCER (1646 - 1712) Daughter of Sargeant Thomas
Elizabeth HUXLEY (1678 - 1745) Daughter of Sarah
Elizabeth KING (1699 - 1787) Daughter of Elizabeth
Elizabeth AUSTIN (1731 - 1788) Daughter of Elizabeth
Mary SHED (1740 - 1807) Daughter of Elizabeth
Hiram SPALDING (1764 - ) Son of Mary
Henry SPALDING (1801 - 1877) Son of Hiram
Eliza 'Lizzie' SPALDING (1830 - 1860) Daughter of Henry
Franklin B 'Frank' WILLIAMS (1859 - 1927) Son of Eliza 'Lizzie'
Charles Ernest WILLIAMS (1902 - 1982) Son of Franklin B 'Frank' my Grandfather.
