by Tracy Borman
When she reached the age of five, Elizabeth’s education was expanded to include foreign languages and other subjects. Children would be taught to speak classical languages such as Greek and Latin before they could write them. Under the guidance of her governess, Elizabeth’s capacity for languages increased considerably. Kat was also able to draw upon the benefits of her own education to inspire her pupil with an enthusiasm for the classics that would last throughout her life.
Elizabeth flourished under her governess’s careful tutelage, and Kat won widespread praise among her contemporaries. In 1539, when Elizabeth was six years old, the courtier Sir Thomas Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton, visited the household and was very impressed by how advanced the young girl’s intellect had become. “If she be no worse educated than she now appeareth to me,” he reported back to court, “she will prove of no less honour to womanhood than shall beseem her father’s daughter.”21
Elizabeth’s progress soon came to the attention of Roger Ascham, one of the leading educationalists of the day. He was full of praise for Kat and amazed at the results that she had achieved with her young charge. He was also rather taken aback by the pace of Elizabeth’s learning and urged the governess not to push her too much. “If you pour much drink at once into a goblet, the most part will dash out and run over,” he warned. “If you pour it softly, you may fill it even to the top, and so her Grace, I doubt not, by little and little may be increased in learning, that at length greater cannot be required.”22
But Ascham underestimated the precocity of the young girl, who had a seemingly insatiable lust for learning and was delighted to find a tutor who could go at least some way toward satisfying it. So far from bewildering the young girl, Kat actually found herself struggling to keep up, and in 1542, after five years in charge of Elizabeth’s education, she was forced to hand over the reins to Dr. Richard Coxe, who had been appointed tutor to Prince Edward. She did so with selfless alacrity, however, for she was aware of her own limitations and did not wish to impede the progress of her young charge.
The fact that Elizabeth responded with such enthusiasm to the guidance of her new tutor did nothing to diminish her bond with Kat, which seemed to grow stronger with every passing day. By now, the pair were inseparable. Having been effectively abandoned by her parents—her mother through death and her father through neglect—Elizabeth clung to her governess with a fierceness born of insecurity. Kat was a fixed point in an ever-changing world, and Elizabeth was determined never to lose her. To her governess, she confided everything. “I will know nothing but that she shall know it,” she once remarked.23 Kat returned her affection with no less zeal. Jealously protective of her young charge, she delighted in being the sole focus of her love. Some remarked that she had become a mother to Elizabeth, and to a certain extent this was true.
But their relationship went beyond the straightforward mother-daughter bond. Indeed, in some respects, Elizabeth often seemed the more mature of the two. Not only had she outstripped Kat intellectually, but she also showed far greater shrewdness and discretion than her affectionate governess. Although intelligent and accomplished, Kat was also somewhat naïve in the ways of the world, as well as impulsive and overly romantic. These were hardly commendable qualities in a woman who had been charged with raising Elizabeth to have the impeccable morals and manners expected of a king’s daughter. But Elizabeth had long since ceased to be the subject of much attention at court, as all eyes were now focused on England’s new heir, Prince Edward. The more worrying aspects of Mistress Champernowne’s character were therefore apparently overlooked.
Another preoccupation at court was who the king would take as his next wife. In less than a decade, Henry had married Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, Anne of Cleves, and Katherine Howard. His wives had changed with a bewildering speed that reflected the ever-shifting balance of power at court, just as much as the king’s own fickle affections. There were now a number of candidates for his new bride, and it was even rumored that he would remarry Anne of Cleves. She and Henry exchanged New Year’s gifts in 1542, and Anne seemed keen to revive their association. Indeed, she may only have agreed to the annulment so readily because she hoped that Henry would soon change his mind. This hope had only increased by witnessing the rapid downfall of Katherine Howard. But the king made no indication of wishing to revive their union, and when Anne heard that he was rumored to be looking elsewhere for a new wife, she was bitterly disappointed.
Rumors about the king’s next marriage were also circulating in Elizabeth’s household, and her indiscreet governess no doubt failed to resist gossiping about it. Elizabeth would have had mixed feelings when contemplating the arrival of yet another stepmother. Her first, Jane Seymour, and last, Katherine Howard, had been rather distant figures, closeted away at a court that she was rarely permitted to visit. However, these women had still had an impact upon her status and position. Elizabeth had been able to observe their fates in a detached, almost clinical way, amassing precedents that would help to shape her future behavior. Even though she had been—indeed, still was—much closer to Anne of Cleves, her visits to her were all too brief.
Things would be entirely different with her next stepmother. If Elizabeth had known how great an impact she would have on her life, she would have welcomed the prospect with intense excitement. For Henry’s sixth and last wife would not just influence Elizabeth’s status at court—transforming her from a royal bastard to an heir to the throne—but would profoundly affect her character and outlook, helping to make her into the queen that she would one day become.
Born in 1512, Katherine Parr hailed from a long line of dominant, enlightened women. Her grandmother, Elizabeth Fitzhugh, had been a remarkable woman of considerable intellect. Her mother, Maud Parr, had lost her husband, Sir Thomas Parr, at a young age and had brought up her three children almost single-handedly, while serving Catherine of Aragon as a lady-in-waiting. Maud’s eldest daughter, Katherine (who was named after the queen), stayed in this female-dominated household until she was in her late teens. During this time, she received an education from her mother that, by early-sixteenth-century standards, was extremely enlightened. Maud was an unusually articulate and independent woman, and set up a school in her household to educate her children. The program of studies that she devised was based on that favored by Sir Thomas More, who had taught his own daughters to believe that they were the intellectual equals of men.
By the time she reached adulthood, Katherine had grown into an assertive woman, keen to promote her intellectual ability when female voices were afforded little credence. She had a much greater sense of independence than most women of her generation and had learned to take an active role in shaping her destiny. This lesson would take her to the very heart of the royal court and would later be passed on to her future stepdaughter, Elizabeth.
For all her independence, Katherine knew that she was expected to take a husband as soon as a suitable one was offered. Her mother worked assiduously to bring this about, and in May 1529 she secured an agreement with the third Baron Borough of Gainsborough in Lincolnshire for Katherine, who was then just sixteen years old, to marry his son, Thomas. The match was not a happy one: Katherine’s father-in-law was a notorious bully, and there were hints of insanity in his family. But she did not have to endure it for long, for in 1533 her young husband died. Katherine’s mother had died two years before, so she now faced the first test of the independence and resourcefulness that she had learned during childhood. After taking refuge with some wealthy cousins, she soon found herself another husband, John Neville, third Baron Latimer, of Snape Castle in Yorkshire, whom she married in 1534. Thanks to his conservative religious principles, Lord Latimer became caught up in the Pilgrimage of Grace in 1536 and only narrowly escaped prosecution for treason. He was saved by his kinship with Katherine’s family, who had opposed the rebels.
Shaken by the experience, Katherine and her husband left their estates in the north and moved southward to their manor of
Wick, near Pershore in Worcestershire. After nine years of marriage, Lord Latimer died. This does not seem to have come as a shock to Katherine, who some months before, toward the end of 1542, had already secured herself a place in the household of the king’s elder daughter, Mary. The princess was inclined to favor all those who had shown loyalty to her late mother, so the appointment was no doubt thanks to Maud Parr’s royal service. The two women were of a similar age24 and soon established a close rapport, Katherine assuming the very personal task of ordering the princess’s clothes for her. Her service was to be of an unexpectedly short duration, however, for it brought her to the attention of Mary’s father, who, undeterred by his disastrous marital history, began to pay court to her.
By now thirty years of age, Katherine was a comely, if not exactly beautiful, woman. The fact that there are no contemporary accounts of her appearance suggests either that she was considered to be rather plain or that her looks were unimportant. This has been compounded by subsequent portrayals of her as an aging widow with few attractions—certainly compared to the likes of Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard. Yet this is more the construct of filmmakers and romantic historians than of fact. A portrait of her painted in 1545 shows a well-dressed young woman with a pleasing, dignified appearance. She has rich auburn hair and soft grey eyes, together with the pale, flawless skin that was fashionable at the time. However, it was her character that held the greatest attraction. Katherine was a witty and engaging woman who enjoyed lively conversation, and who, thanks to her education, could speak knowledgeably on a wide range of subjects. She was also well versed in the more courtly accomplishments of music and dancing, and loved fine clothes and jewelry. Her favorite color was crimson, which set off her hair and pale skin to dramatic effect. She also paid a great deal of attention to her personal hygiene. In a court where pungent body odors were prevalent among even the highest-ranking men and women, she was a sweet-smelling anomaly. She indulged in milk baths and adorned her body with expensive oils and perfumes such as rosewater. She even used lozenges to sweeten her breath.25
Above all, though, Katherine had great presence and dignity and a sense of inner calm that drew men to her. Among them was one of the most handsome bachelors at court, Thomas Seymour, brother of the late queen, who was already trying to win her favor by the time she caught the king’s eye. This defies the image of a plain spinster whose only attraction for Henry lay in her ability to nurse him through his final years. Moreover, the king had always had a weakness for pretty women, and the episode with Anne of Cleves had proved that he was not willing to marry for politics alone.
By February 1543, it was noted that Henry was paying more visits than usual to his daughter Mary’s apartments. Courtiers soon suspected that his motives were inspired by more than just fatherly concern. This was a very different courtship than the ones that had gone before, however. The bitter experience of Katherine Howard’s betrayal had dealt his confidence a severe blow, and rather than showering the new object of his affections with love tokens and grand gestures, he assumed a melancholy attitude whenever she was around, appearing “sad, pensive and sighing.”26
Katherine was far from flattered by his attentions. Having already endured two loveless marriages, she had no wish to embark upon a third, particularly as she had already fallen deeply in love with Thomas Seymour. The king was plagued with jealousy when he learned of this, and in a repetition of the tactics he had used with Anne Boleyn and Henry Percy, he found an excuse to send Seymour away from court. This did little to allay Katherine’s reluctance, however, and she remained out of his reach—not as part of a tactic, but as a true reflection of her feelings. But she knew that to gainsay the king was fraught with danger, and her reformist family no doubt put pressure on her to carry out God’s will by accepting Henry’s courtship. Eventually, therefore, she reluctantly put her own desires aside and consented to be the sixth wife of this much-married monarch.
The wedding took place on July 12, 1543, in the Queen’s private apartments at Hampton Court Palace. There were just eighteen guests, including Princess Mary and her half sister, Elizabeth. Both girls had been invited to court a month before in order to meet their new stepmother. Elizabeth was dispatched back to one of her estates in the country soon after the wedding, but even in the brief time that she and Katherine had spent together, they had apparently established a close rapport. Katherine was no doubt charmed by the pretty, precocious nine-year-old, whose educational accomplishments were already rivalling her own. For her part, Elizabeth seemed instantly to warm to the dignified presence and lively humor of her father’s latest wife. Katherine had come into her life at precisely the right time. At nine years old, Elizabeth was rapidly outstripping the intellectual capacity of her governess, and the latter’s waywardness left her in need of a stable female presence. What’s more, unlike her other stepmothers, there was little prospect of Katherine producing an heir to supplant Elizabeth and her siblings, for the king was incapacitated by age and infirmity. It was therefore very easy for her to like his new wife, and it must have been a great disappointment to be summarily dismissed from court when their acquaintance was still so new.
But for Katherine, it was not a case of out of sight, out of mind. Having already had the experience of being a stepmother, thanks to her second marriage, she was evidently fond of children and resolved to befriend all of the king’s children. She and Mary had grown close during her service in the princess’s household, and Katherine took pity on her and her half sister. It was probably thanks to her suggestion that the two daughters were included in a portrayal of Henry VIII and his family, completed in or around 1545. Katherine seemed determined to enhance her younger stepdaughter’s position as the daughter of the king—albeit an illegitimate one.
Katherine also cultivated the young Prince Edward’s affection, and he was pleased by her attention. Appreciating that he and his half sister Elizabeth, young as they were, had a keen interest in scholarly pursuits, Katherine took it upon herself to oversee their education. Thanks to her influence, it was agreed that Elizabeth should share some of her lessons with Edward. They were taught a range of different subjects as part of a standard curriculum for royal children, including languages, theology, history, rhetoric, logic, philosophy, arithmetic, literature, geometry, and music. Sir John Cheke, Regius Professor of Greek at Cambridge and a proponent of the reformist religion favored by Katherine, was appointed to lead their studies in the early part of 1544. Under his tutelage, the two children learned to question established orthodoxies and advocate the principles of the reformed religion, which they embraced enthusiastically.
Roger Ascham was a frequent visitor to the children’s household and would take part in their studies. An expert in the italic hand, he inspired Elizabeth in this art, and her flamboyant signature, with its swirls and flourishes, testifies to the mastery she acquired. When she and her brother were tired of their books, Ascham would accompany them for walks on the grounds of Hatfield, Ashridge, or Hunsdon. His expertise extended to archery, and both children loved to practice this. It was thanks to Ascham that Elizabeth also developed a love of cock-fighting and bearbaiting, for he took a keen interest in these brutal sports himself.
Katherine Parr soon realized that Elizabeth was far outstripping her younger brother, so she decided that the girl needed a tutor of her own. William Grindal was a scholar of St. John’s College, Cambridge, and was renowned for his expertise in Latin and Greek. He had been recommended to Katherine by Elizabeth’s governess, who was keen not to be completely sidelined in the girl’s education. Having satisfied herself of his credentials, Katherine proceeded with the appointment. Elizabeth flourished under Grindal’s charge and acquired a passion for the humanist principles so favored by her new stepmother.
Shortly after Grindal had been appointed as Elizabeth’s tutor in 1544, he wrote to Kat Astley expressing his astonishment and gratitude for everything she had achieved with her protégée. “Would God my wit wist [knew] what
words would express the thanks you have deserved of all true English hearts, for that noble imp [Elizabeth] by your labour and wisdom now flourishing in all goodly godliness, the fruit whereof doth even now redound to her Grace’s high honour and profit. I wish her Grace to come to that end in perfectness with likelyhood of her wit, and painfulness in her study … which your diligent overseeing doth most constantly promise.”27 This was more than just the flattery of a grateful beneficiary of Kat’s favor. Elizabeth’s exceptional intellectual ability was by now widely talked of. “She was learned (her sex and times considered) beyond all common belief,” another contemporary enthused.28
The rapid progression of Elizabeth’s education proved to be a source of tension with her half sister. Mary had overseen her younger sister’s studies after Anne Boleyn’s death and had been proud of her precociousness, as evidenced by the fulsome praise that she relayed to her father. But Elizabeth had soon outstripped Mary’s knowledge, just as she had her governess, and now she was being schooled in theological views that were directly opposed to Mary’s own. Although she had acknowledged her father as supreme head of the Church, Mary remained a staunch traditionalist in matters of religion and severely disapproved of her siblings’ studies. It would be one of the most dangerous causes of disagreement between them when Elizabeth reached adulthood. Furthermore, her younger sister was gaining a confidence and independence of spirit that jarred with Mary’s reserved nature. She was no longer the sweet little girl who was endearingly dependent upon her elder sister. She had apparently already decided that she had little more to learn from Mary, and although she remained politely deferential in the letters she later wrote to her, there was a cool detachment in her tone.