The Power of Place: Elizabeth St. John's The Lady of the Tower, set in the early 17th century, and a visit to Lydiard Park

A year ago, in September 2016, my husband Mark and I spent a morning at Lydiard Park, an estate located near Swindon in Wiltshire, England. It looked like a nice place to take a stroll and see the local scenery. On our map, Lydiard was about halfway between Tintern and Heathrow, so it was a convenient stop before heading home after the HNS Oxford conference and our vacation in Wales. That was all I knew about it. We parked the car, walked toward the house, and ran into many people with their dogs. It seems we’d arrived on the day of the annual dog show, Lydiard Bark.

Even with the crowds (and barking), Lydiard was a place of tranquility, with its beautifully landscaped grounds, nearby lake, and elegant Palladian country house dating from the Georgian era.

Lydiard House on a beautiful September morning (photo by me)

What I hadn’t known at the time was that Lydiard was the historic home of the St. John family, who had royal connections: they descended from Margaret Beauchamp, grandmother of Henry VII, through her first marriage. I also hadn’t realized that Lydiard featured in Elizabeth St. John’s The Lady of the Tower, which I’d purchased, coincidentally, on Kindle a few months earlier. I’m kicking myself now for not taking the opportunity to tour the house, which has many family portraits on the walls; likewise the walled garden, although mid-September wasn’t an ideal time for that. Hopefully we’ll get the chance to return someday.

Now that I’ve gotten the chance to read The Lady of the Tower, I can enthusiastically recommend it to anyone interested in the 17th century, the rich tapestry of women’s lives, or simply settling into a well-told, memorable historical novel. Spanning nearly three decades, from the sunset of the Elizabethan era through the early years of Charles I’s troubled reign as a “divine right” monarch, it follows the ups and downs in the life of Lucy St. John, youngest daughter in a prominent Wiltshire family (the author descends from this same family).

Lucy adores her quiet life in the English countryside; Lydiard is the home of her heart, but circumstances often oblige her to live elsewhere. Wherever Lucy resides, from Battersea along the Thames under the care of her spiteful aunt-by-marriage, to a stone castle in remote Wales, to the industriousness of the Royal Navy Yard, the settings are beautifully etched in the mind’s eye.

St. Mary's parish church, Lydiard Tregoze (photo by Mark Johnson)

One principal theme is the plight of women in this earlier time. Dependent on their male relatives and husbands, they’re also expected to create homes for themselves and their children in places mostly not of their own choosing. Lucy's internal conflict between obligations and her personal desires is palpable, especially since she finds court manners empty of substance.

Following a failed love affair, she marries a kind man, but her choice ironically forces her into a role of uncomfortable prominence: that of mistress of the Tower of London, charged with caring for high-ranking political prisoners, including Sir Walter Raleigh… which means getting unwittingly drawn into the drama that surrounds them. The novel also emphasizes something I hadn’t thought much about: the huge monetary costs incurred by those occupying high-ranking positions in the realm.

Another strong point are the depictions of Lucy’s relationships: her tender friendship with sister-in-law Anne; the growing antagonism between Lucy and her brother John, to whom Lydiard is entailed simply because he’s male; and her rivalry with her opportunistic sister Barbara, her polar opposite, who marries the half-brother of royal favorite George Villiers.

Most of the story unfolds against the political and cultural backdrop of the Jacobean age, which saw royal favorites jockeying for position and reward (and carrying their families’ hopes along with them), the financing of transatlantic voyages of exploration; and the growing influence of Calvinist theology. There are several complex love stories, too; and one love strongly echoing through the pages is that which Lucy has for the place she calls home.

Grounds of Lydiard, Sept. 2016 (photo by me)

Elizabeth St. John's The Lady of the Tower was published in January 2016 on Kindle and in paperback.