Katherine the Queen: The Remarkable Life of Katherine Parr

by Linda Porter

  In a letter to Thomas More, Tunstall explained that he had begun the work some years earlier, after he suspected that he was being swindled by money-changers: ‘I was forced to look rather more closely into methods of ready reckoning and to apply myself again to the art of arithmetic with which as a youth I had made some acquaintance.’ He had, he said, struggled to complete his treatise over several years – it had not come easily – and he had more than once thought of abandoning his efforts all together. Now, the responsibilities he would face as bishop of London had spurred him on to consider what to do with ‘the labours of so many nights’, and, in the hope that ‘something not without value might be found in these writings for those intending to study arithmetic’, he dedicated the work to his friend More, ‘you who can also pass the book on to your children for them to read … for them it might be most specially beneficial … since by nothing are the abilities of young folk more invigorated than by the study of mathematics’.9 Here Tunstall revealed that the De arte supputandi was intended above all to be a practical aid to young people. He believed that facility with arithmetic helped train the mind, and his book was the first that dealt with the subject in the modern sense, in contrast to earlier, more abstract studies of the properties, rather than the applications, of numbers. The uses of such guidance in the real world were obvious. In the running of a household, a good grasp of arithmetic played an important part. Later, both Mary Tudor as princess and Katherine Parr as queen would sign their own accounts.

  Like their fellow humanists, Tunstall and More shared a keen interest in education, and the wider influence of both men can be seen in the schoolroom of Katherine Parr. Anne Parr, Katherine’s younger sister, herself later said that the children’s education was based on the approach used in the family of Thomas More.10 Here boys and girls were educated together, as was the case with the Parrs until William left home in 1525 to join the household of Henry VIII’s bastard son, the duke of Richmond. By that time he was twelve years old and the foundation of his education was already laid.

  More’s views on the education of women were eloquently expressed to his children’s tutor:

  Though I prefer learning joined with virtue to all the treasures of kings, yet renown for learning, when it is not united with the good life, is nothing else than splendid and notorious ignominy; this would be especially the case in a woman. Since erudition in a woman is a new thing and a reproach to the sloth of men, many will gladly assail it, and impute to literature what is really the fault of nature, thinking from the virtues of the learned to get their own ignorance esteemed as virtue. On the other hand, if a woman (and this I desire and hope with you as their teacher for all my daughters) to eminent virtue should add an outwork of even moderate skill in literature, I think she will have more profit than if she obtained the riches of Croesus and the beauty of Helen.

  He went on to emphasize his belief that there should be no distinction between the education of daughters and sons:

  Nor do I think that the harvest will be affected whether it is a man or a woman who sows the field. They both have the same human nature and the power of reasoning differentiates them from the beasts; both, therefore, are equally suited for those studies by which reason is cultivated, and is productive like a ploughed field on which the seed of good lessons has been sown.11

  This mix of classical allusion and agricultural metaphor was typical of the man and his times, and More’s insistence that learning, especially in women, was not an end in itself but could only be fully effective as part of a morally centred approach to life, was a theme found generally among writers on the education of women. The Spanish humanist Juan Luis Vives, in The Education of a Christian Woman, a work dedicated to Katherine of Aragon and offered as a blueprint for the upbringing of Princess Mary, emphasized the importance of virtue, domestic skills and womanly restraint, while sharing More’s views that women could – and, indeed, should – learn as effectively as men. He held that it was the roles of men and women in society, not their basic intellects, that were different.

  In our age, where women’s view of themselves has been greatly influenced by the debates on feminism of the second half of the twentieth century, these views sound patronizing rather than progressive. But the sixteenth century had never heard of feminism, and though much has undoubtedly been learned from studying women of the period, ‘gender studies’ is a modern invention and has become a growth industry. Like all constructs projected on to the past it can be enlightening but also misleading. Maud Parr’s approach to the education of her family was evidently admired by Lord Dacre, who thought it would benefit his grandson, but the mixed schoolroom at Rye House was also a product of Maud Parr’s situation as a widow who needed to live within her means. By including pupils from the wider family, better quality tuition was more affordable and ties of kinship were reinforced. Families with the right combination of wealth and social standing had long been able, if they so desired, to educate their daughters, at least to competent standards of literacy. Much depended on the aptitude of the girls themselves and the attitude of the head of the family, who, in Tudor times, was almost always male. Maud Parr was an exception – not unique, for other women of her time recognized the benefits of widowhood – and she undoubtedly wanted the best for her daughters, within the framework of the society in which she lived. But her son, as we shall see, was always her priority.

  Katherine Parr grew up well aware of this reality. Scripture told her that women were, indeed, the weaker vessel, fashioned from Adam’s rib, and less perfect than men. St Paul certainly thought so and the Church establishment over the centuries, overlooking the more liberal attitude of Jesus himself, had followed suit. Most commentators on the subject considered the female to be diminished by her sexuality. She existed to bear children and be a helpmate. In the running of a household this latter expectation was of considerable importance and was no lightweight responsibility. Marriage was a partnership of sorts, but not an equal one. A successful and loving marriage nevertheless allowed scope for the development of personal interests, such as Katherine herself would welcome in adulthood, and it also provided security. Meanwhile, her education would equip her to function fully as a lady of her class.

  We do not know who Katherine Parr’s tutors were or precisely what she studied, though an overall impression can be gained from looking at her interests and attainments as an adult and from the sort of programme followed by her contemporaries. Her literacy in English was clearly of a high standard, as she was to demonstrate in her writings as queen of England. The growth of humanism, however, with its concept of ‘New Learning’, did not itself promote the desirability of the vernacular as the basis of good education, or, indeed, of a worthy life. Rather, it emphasized the need to return to a better, direct understanding of the classical languages of Greece and Rome, so that the scriptures could be read without the interpretation placed on them by centuries of commentary by leading figures of the Church. This belief, that the word of God should be read directly, and applied to civic duty and personal piety, was eventually to be transformed into a conviction that the Bible should be available in the vernacular. Katherine Parr became one of the keenest exponents of this belief, although during her girlhood the leap had not yet been made.

  But though the study of classical languages was fundamental for young men, its place in the education of women was less clear. While Mary Tudor learned Latin to a high standard and her younger sister, Elizabeth, studied Greek as well, ideas on education were changing by the time Elizabeth began to learn and both were, of course, the daughters of a king. Their opportunities and expectations were different from those of other young women, even those who were well born. Katherine Parr evidently learned some Latin, but there is still debate about the extent of her abilities in the language. What seems likely is that she acquired a basic knowledge as a child, and that circumstances allowed her to improve significantly as an adult. Few high-born women in the early sixteenth century, no matter how
pious, had an extensive knowledge of Latin. Margaret Roper, Thomas More’s much-loved daughter, was unusually gifted in the language, but this is hardly surprising with such a father. Other ladies tended to have more modest achievements. Lady Margaret Beaufort, mother of Henry VII, is a good example. She was a clever and influential woman, the benefactress of St John’s College, Cambridge and other academic institutions, but she herself acknowledged that her reading ability in Latin was limited to the headings in her religious books.

  Modern languages, however, were a different matter. Katherine learned French and could probably read Italian. At her death, her library contained a copy in Italian of Petrarch’s sonnets. This could, of course, indicate merely a desire to have such a book in her possession, as a collector, but she was definitely learning Spanish while married to Henry VIII so it seems quite possible that she was already competent in Italian. Both Katherine’s parents could speak French. This was considered a desirable attribute in court circles.

  The basic curriculum proposed for children by Tunstall and Vives embraced the leading classical thinkers and writers: Quintilian, Plutarch, Cicero, Homer (in Latin translation) and Aristotle. Erasmus, the English Latinist and medical expert Thomas Linacre and the French scholar Guillaume Budé completed the list. Budé, the founder of the Collège de France, was a prolific writer; diplomat and royal librarian to Francis I, he was regarded by many as the leading Greek scholar of his day. Study of the scriptures was, of course, an essential part of learning. Familiarity with classical scholarship and humanist writers trained the mind, exposing children to ideas and revealing to them first hand the richness of their European inheritance. It also gave to women like Katherine Parr confidence to discuss philosophy and religion and the independence of thought that goes with regular study. In so doing, it produced a tension between the accepted wisdom that even educated women would never play more than a secondary and submissive role in life and the experience of the lives they in fact led. The Tudor queens, Mary and Elizabeth, are prime examples of this dichotomy. Katherine Parr felt it too, and from an early age. She had only to look at her mother to see that being female did not equate to weakness. And Katherine, like a number of other intelligent, well-born girls, does not seem to have been burdened by a feeling of inferiority.

  Outside the schoolroom, Katherine Parr developed other interests and enjoyed a variety of pastimes. She liked country pursuits (perhaps encouraged by her uncle) and was a keen rider and hunter. She collected coins, played chess and loved music and dancing. Hers was a comfortable and stimulating upbringing, bounded by strong bonds of family affection. Perhaps she had ambitions, or daydreams, of a much greater future. The story she told her mother that she was not interested in needlework because her hands were made for sceptres is almost certainly apocryphal. But as she left childhood behind, she would have known that her prospects were unlikely to be brilliant. She had no great fortune and no title. Only marriage could bring her those attributes.

  LADY PARR began the quest for a husband for Katherine when her daughter was eleven years old. If this seems startlingly young, it should be remembered that the process could take time and, even after the wedding ceremony itself, cohabitation often did not take place until both parties were about sixteen years old. In the recent past, Katherine’s female relatives had tended to marry much older men. This was a common-enough occurrence when death in childbirth was frequent and men found themselves widowers not just once, but often several times. It could also be the outcome of the underlying imperative to gain financial and social advancement through marriage wherever possible. Maud Parr knew that she did not have anything outstanding to offer a prospective son-in-law and that she would therefore be unlikely to find a match for Katherine in court circles. The most obvious solution was to find someone from among her extensive network of relatives. Here an opportunity presented itself in the spring of 1523, whether by chance or design we do not know, to take the matter forward.

  While the court was at Greenwich, and Maud evidently in attendance on the queen, she discussed Katherine’s future with Lord Dacre, Sir Thomas Parr’s first cousin. Dacre was a northern lord of influence and wealth who spent much of his life holding the borders of England against the Scots for successive kings far away in London. A Yorkist, like the Parrs and many other northerners, he accepted the Tudors and fought well for them, at Flodden and in continuing border skirmishes; but the relationship was always uneasy. His military prowess and local power was praised by the poet earl of Surrey, whose admiration was not easily won. In April 1523 Lord Dacre was at court but had to leave to deal with yet another threatened Scottish invasion. There must have been many calls on his time and patience, but somehow Maud Parr managed to get his attention before his departure to talk to him about finding a suitable candidate for the hand of her elder daughter. This says a great deal about Maud’s powers of persuasion and the ties of family. The outcome was that Dacre agreed to try to facilitate a marriage between his grandson, Henry Scrope, and Katherine Parr. He evidently responded with enthusiasm to the idea of a union that would strengthen family links in the north and, with his encouragement, negotiations began between Lady Parr and Lord Scrope of Bolton.

  They did not fare well. Dacre may have been a formidable soldier and scourge of the Scots, but his son-in-law resisted doing his bidding. Scrope’s disdain for the match is palpable; Katherine Parr was neither rich enough nor good enough for his son. Still, his response was not one of outright refusal; instead, he stalled and then put forward terms that were unacceptable to Maud Parr. She thought that she had agreed the detail with Lord Dacre, but Scrope did not like what had been proposed. Maud was understandably irritated. ‘Where it pleased you at your last being here,’ she wrote to Dacre in July 1523,

  to take pain in the matter in consideration of marriage between Lord Scrope’s son and my daughter Katherine, for the which I heartily thank you; at which time I thought the matter in good furtherance. Howbeit, I perceive that my said Lord Scrope is not agreeable to the consideration, as more plainly may appear unto you by certain articles sent to me … the copy of which articles I send you herein enclosed.12

  Scrope wanted a full answer to his counter-proposals by the beginning of August, and she needed Dacre’s help.

  She disliked several aspects of Scrope’s proposed articles and made it clear that she wanted to stick to what had been agreed with Lord Dacre. ‘Glad I would be to have the matter go forth if might be conveniently: if it please you to call to remembrance the matter before you at Greenwich was that I should pay at your desire 1,100 marks, whereof 100 marks in hand, and every year after 100 marks, which is as much as I can spare, as you know.’ Scrope wanted his money in too much of a hurry: ‘I am content with the first day, but the residue of his days of payment be too short for me.’ She was also perturbed that, as Scrope’s conditions spelled out, ‘The said Lord Scrope will not agree to repay no money after the marriage is solemnized and executed, nor to enter into no covenant especially for the governance of the children during the nonage of them.’ As the children were not to live together until Henry Scrope was fourteen and Katherine Parr twelve, Maud recognized that she would lose her money if death or disagreement intervened. Meanwhile, she still had to feed, clothe and educate her daughter at her own expense.

  Maud was by no means impoverished; the amount she was willing to offer at her daughter’s marriage is the equivalent of about £323,000 today. But she had always been prudent and could not afford to write this off as Lord Scrope was insisting she must if, for any reason, the marriage should be solemnized but nothing more. There is something in her tone that suggests she already suspected nothing would come of her overtures, but she could not bring herself to back down yet. Though she might be a widow, she was not willing to give up without seeing if the application of further pressure would swing matters her way.

  Lord Dacre was in Newcastle when he replied on 30 July. He was disappointed, even slightly harassed, but he promised that he would
pursue the question of Katherine Parr’s marriage:

  Cousin, since my departure from you I assure you I was not two nights together in mine own house, by reason whereof I never had leisure to labour in these matters. And I do think, seeing my Lord Scrope cannot be content with the communications that was had at my last being with you, which was thought reasonable to me … that this matter cannot be brought to no perfect end without mutual communication to be had with my said lord, either by myself, my son or my brother. Wherefore, as soon as conveniently any of us may be spared, this matter shall be laboured.

  He remained confident of a satisfactory outcome for the Parr–Dacre–Scrope connection, having extracted (or so he then believed) a promise from his daughter and son-in-law ‘that they shall not marry their son without my consent, which they shall not have to no person but unto you’. He counselled patience: ‘be not overhasty’, he concluded, ‘but suffer and finally ye shall be well assured that I shall do in this matter, or in any other that is or may be either pleasure, profit, or surety, to you or my said cousin, your daughter, that lieth in my power’.13

  This was a hearty assurance and an eloquent witness of the abiding strength of family in sixteenth-century England. But it did not suffice to bring about a wedding between young Katherine Parr and Henry Scrope. At the end of 1523 Lord Dacre was still in the north of England. He wrote to his son-in-law recognizing that there was too large a distance between Scrope’s demands and what Lady Parr would accept, desiring him to reopen negotiations. He urged the importance of family ties, ‘the wisdom of my said Lady, and the good wise stock of the Greenes whereof she is come, and also the wise stock of the Parrs of Kendal’. He understood Scrope’s concerns, acknowledging that ‘your son and heir is the greatest jewel that ye can have’, but he fully believed that the lad would fare extremely well if he was educated in the Parr household with his young bride. There he could learn ‘French and other languages, which meseems were a commodious thing for him’. And Dacre further dangled as a carrot the possibility that, were Katherine Parr to die, her younger sister Anne would have her marriage portion as well.