Elizabeth's Women
Page 18
Mary’s superiority over her husband was further emphasized during the marriage ceremony, in which she took precedence, being always on Philip’s right, in the exact opposite of the traditional arrangements for royal weddings. But almost as soon as the ceremony was over, Mary made it clear that she intended to give her new husband a good deal more authority than the settlement had prescribed. She wrote to the Lord Privy Seal, instructing him “First to tell the kyng the whole state of the Realme … Second to obey hys commandment in all thynge[s].” She added that Philip should be permitted to declare his opinion on any matter he chose.20 As if to confirm what she saw as their joint sovereignty, Mary ordered a new coin to be struck in honor of their marriage. This showed the couple facing each other, and above their heads was a crown, placed equally between them.
With her council and most of her people fiercely opposed to Philip’s authority, and Mary equally determined that he should exert it, a clash was inevitable.
The rise of anti-Spanish feeling was rapid and, in terms of Mary’s authority as queen, disastrous. Within a few months of the wedding, there was already fierce hostility between the English and Spanish at court. “It will be very difficult to make the Spaniards get on well with the Englishmen,” Renard predicted shrewdly. “There is the obstacle of language; and then, as I have often explained in my letters, the English hate strangers and have never seen so many of them together at once. Several Spaniards have already been robbed while landing or on their way hither; and they are given bad and insufficient lodgings.” A member of Philip’s entourage who was on the receiving end of such treatment complained: “We Spaniards move among the English as if they were animals, trying not to notice them; and they do the same to us. They refuse to crown our Prince, though he is their King, for they do not recognise him as such or as in any way their superior, but merely as one who has come to act as governor of the realm and get the Queen with child. When she has had children of him, they say, he may go home to Spain. Would to God it might happen at once!”21
Coupled with her increasingly fervent attempts to reestablish Roman Catholicism, Mary’s Spanish marriage ensured that within just a year of her accession, she had already alienated a dangerously large number of her subjects. As far as her role was concerned, she was providing her half sister with an example of what not to do.
Elizabeth had evidently foreseen the trouble that the Spanish marriage would cause. Upon hearing of Mary’s betrothal to Philip, she had written a cautious letter of congratulation. “I have no doubt it will redound to the glory of God, the repose of your Majesty and the safety and preservation of your Kingdoms,” she began. However, she then went on to say that it was “a deep and weighty matter” and warned her half sister: “I doubt not that your will shall be made the instrument of His.” Urging her to insure that she clarify her position before signing the marriage treaty, she concluded: “For a house built on a sound foundation can only stand firm, whereas one built on the sand may soon be wrecked by winds and sudden tempests.”22
Reading this letter, one could be forgiven for assuming that of the two sisters, it was Elizabeth, not Mary, who had the benefit of greater age and experience. Despite being just twenty years old, she had evidently gained a far greater insight into both the politics of female rule and the tenor of public feeling. But was her attempt to warn her half sister of the dangers inherent in her forthcoming marriage entirely selfless, a demonstration of female solidarity in a world dominated by men? Perhaps not. Tellingly, Elizabeth had not warned Mary against the marriage on the grounds that Philip was a foreigner, which was, after all, the greatest drawback to the match. She had cautioned her against marriage full stop. She was all too well aware that her position as next in line to the throne was highly tenuous. If Mary were to marry and beget an heir, then she might well have to give up any hope of one day becoming queen. If she could therefore dissuade her half sister from entering that state a little longer, then it could only be to her own benefit. By the standards of the day, at thirty-eight, Mary was very old to be trying to conceive for the first time. Her childbearing days were numbered, and Elizabeth knew it.
Regardless of Elizabeth’s motives in seeking to discourage her half sister from taking a husband, they worked little effect. The harmony between the two women had rapidly disintegrated as the euphoria of Mary’s accession subsided. Ambassadors at court wasted no time in stirring up trouble between them. The Imperial representative, Simon Renard, dropped poisonous words about Elizabeth in Mary’s ear, claiming that she was a traitor to the new queen and intended her downfall. “The Lady Elizabeth … might, out of ambition, or being persuaded thereto, conceive some dangerous design and put it to execution,” he counselled, adding that the girl was “clever and sly.”23 Meanwhile, the French ambassador Noialles courted Elizabeth’s favor and encouraged her to set her sights on the throne. He also put about a rumor that there was a “misunderstanding between the Queen and the Lady Elizabeth.”24
For her part, Mary was all too easily persuaded of the evil intentions of her half sister. Renard’s comments helped to reawaken the old hostility toward this young upstart whose very existence had for a time threatened to destroy her own. “She still resents the injuries inflicted on Queen Catherine, her lady mother, by the machinations of Anne Boleyn, mother of Elizabeth,” noted Renard.25 His satisfaction was even greater when, shortly afterward, Mary confided to him that she thought Elizabeth would grow to be like her mother, a woman “who had caused great trouble in the Kingdom.”26
Relations between the two women took a turn for the worse during the first Parliament of Mary’s reign, which passed an act declaring Catherine of Aragon’s annulment void and thereby confirming Mary’s legitimacy. However, it left unrepealed the clauses relating to Elizabeth’s bastardy—they could not both be legitimate daughters of Henry VIII, because if his first marriage had been valid, then his second had not, and vice versa. Nevertheless, Mary’s refusal to alter Elizabeth’s status was still a cause of some resentment to the latter.27 But the deliberations surrounding the 1554 act seemed to have revived in the new queen bitter memories of the torment that she and her mother had suffered at the hands of Anne Boleyn, which in turn provoked her antipathy toward the daughter of the “Great Whore.” She therefore proposed to go still further, for although her younger sister’s illegitimacy had been confirmed, she was still the heir to the throne according to the statute passed in Henry VIII’s time. Mary was therefore determined to repeal this and instead make her cousin Lady Margaret Douglas heir.
Lady Margaret, Countess of Lennox, was the daughter of Henry VIII’s elder sister, Margaret, and as such had a strong claim to the throne, even though Henry had barred his older sister’s descendants from the succession. She and Mary also enjoyed a close affinity, being of a similar age and having shared the same household in their youth. Margaret Douglas had first come to England as a baby in March 1516, when her mother had been forced to give up the regency of Scotland and seek refuge at Henry VIII’s court. The king had ordered that Margaret be installed in the royal nursery at Greenwich Palace, joining her young cousin, Mary, who had been born the previous month. That stay had been brief, but Margaret had returned to England in 1530 and had again been invited to join Mary’s household, which was then in residence at the castle of Beaulieu in Hampshire. The two girls immediately struck up a close and lasting friendship, and a contemporary would later recall the “special love” that existed between them.28 Margaret had also become a firm favorite of the English king, and he indulged her with lavish gifts, such as the ermine-trimmed gowns that he sent to Beaulieu “for the use of our dearest niece.”29
Margaret Douglas’s subsequent career at court had been marked by extreme highs and lows. A shrewd politician, she had succeeded in winning favor with each of Henry’s wives, whom she had served in turn. She was probably in attendance at the birth of Princess Elizabeth, and was subsequently named first lady of honor to her new cousin, which made her superior in status to t
he king’s elder daughter. Yet Margaret had been reckless in her personal life. Fully Tudor in appearance, she had the characteristic red hair and long nose, but also striking heavy-lidded eyes and a vivaciousness that charmed many members of the court. The French ambassador enthused that she was both “beautiful and highly esteemed.”30 Among her admirers was Thomas Howard, a cousin of Anne Boleyn, with whom she was secretly betrothed in the spring of 1536. This earned her a prolonged spell in prison. The king was so incensed that he ordered a clause to be added to the 1536 Act of Succession making it treason to “espouse, marry or deflower being unmarried” any of the king’s female relations.31 The ramifications of this act would be felt for centuries. A year later, Margaret was declared illegitimate by the king because her father, Archibald Douglas, had divorced her mother after finding evidence of a precontract on her part. He had successfully argued that this rendered their marriage unlawful, and their daughter had been openly reputed a bastard in Scotland.
Perhaps by way of rebellion, in 1540 Margaret began another clandestine courtship. Her suitor this time was Katherine Howard’s brother. When this was discovered, Margaret was once more incarcerated. She was allowed back to court three years later and was sufficiently restored to the king’s good graces to be appointed a bridesmaid at his wedding to Katherine Parr. Realizing that his twenty-seven-year-old niece was overly ripe for marriage, Henry arranged a match for her himself. The husband he chose was Matthew Stewart, fourth Earl of Lennox. His reasons were entirely political. In 1543 the Scots had reneged upon an agreement made some time before to marry Henry’s heir, Edward, to the young Mary, Queen of Scots. The English king therefore needed an alternative Scottish alliance, and Lennox was an ideal candidate for his niece. But he was also cultured, well educated, and “a strong man, of personage well shaped … fair and pleasant faced, with a good and manly countenance.”32 Margaret was instantly smitten, and they were married on July 6, 1544, in St. James’s Palace. Henry’s two daughters were invited to join in the banquet held to mark the occasion.
The match would be a fruitful one, producing two male heirs, Henry and Charles. But although the king had allegedly told his niece that he “should be right glad if heirs of her body succeeded to the Crown,” he cut her out of his will in 1547 following a bitter quarrel over her attachment to the Roman Catholic faith.33 The fact that he had already declared her to be illegitimate a decade before meant that there was now no prospect of her inheriting the English throne.
With Mary’s accession, Margaret’s fortunes had changed once more. The two women were united by their faith, and Mary saw her cousin as one of her few genuine allies. She had wasted no time in inviting Margaret back to court, and arranged for her to be accommodated in some of the finest apartments in the Palace of Westminster. A suite of luxurious furniture was ordered for her, together with rich tapestries, new dresses, and precious jewels. In addition, Margaret was granted a generous annual allowance, and she and her household were provided with food and drink at no cost. Not since Henry VIII had considered making her his heir had the countess been treated with such preferment.
If the statute confirming Elizabeth’s status as next in line to the throne could be repealed, then so could Henry VIII’s attempts to cut Margaret out of the succession. Mary duly began to make much of her cousin, according her precedence at court. Thus she took her place ahead of Elizabeth at all the state banquets and receptions, much to the chagrin of Henry’s younger daughter. Margaret was also in attendance at Mary’s marriage to Philip of Spain. The countess relished her newfound status. It flattered her natural vanity and ambition, and she soon came to act as if she were the Queen’s rightful heir. Indeed, Mary increasingly treated her as such, and it was widely expected that she would soon officially name her as successor.
Even though he had no great love for Elizabeth, William Paget, one of Mary’s most trusted advisers, urged caution, all too conscious of the danger of alienating her popular half sister. Mary therefore reluctantly abandoned her plans to disinherit Elizabeth—for now. Nevertheless, the act, together with Mary’s obvious favor toward Margaret Douglas, had badly damaged Elizabeth’s status. Renard dismissed her as having “too doubtful lineage on her mother’s side,” and the Venetian ambassador, Michiel, went further still, describing her as “the illegitimate child of a criminal who was punished as a public strumpet.”34 Rather than being bowed by such treatment, Elizabeth displayed the same resilience that her mother had shown when faced with hostility at court and among the people. Adopting an attitude that the Spanish described as “proud and haughty,” she asserted that she was every bit as legitimate as her sister the Queen and also made a rare reference to her mother in support of her claim. Michiel noted with some distaste: “Although she knows she was born of such a mother, she nevertheless does not consider herself of inferior degree to the Queen, whom she equals in self-esteem; neither does she believe herself less legitimate than her Majesty, alleging in her own favour that her mother would never cohabit with the King unless by way of marriage, with the authority of the church … so that even if deceived, having as a subject acted with good faith, the fact cannot have invalidated her mother’s marriage, nor her own birth.”35
The atmosphere between the two sisters had become unbearably strained. Just two weeks after her accession, Mary confided to Renard that she intended to send Elizabeth from court. Although she apparently changed her mind, her resentment continued. She tried to conceal her “evil disposition” toward Elizabeth under a mask of affection, forcing herself to converse only on “agreeable subjects.”36 Elizabeth also took care to display the utmost courtesy and respect, although there was little real feeling behind it. But there was one issue that threatened to cause their simmering resentment to break out into open hostility. Upon her accession, Mary had made it clear that her most urgent priority was to restore England to the papal fold. Driven on by an evangelizing zeal, she ordered increasingly drastic measures in order to achieve this, not flinching from burning those subjects who persisted in their “heretical” beliefs.
Closer to home, she was determined to bring her younger sister to heel on religious matters. Elizabeth had tactfully declined to attend Mass with Mary at court. The first occasion on which this was raised was the funeral of their brother, Edward. The new queen at first ordered that he should be buried as a Catholic but eventually gave way and agreed that he could be afforded Protestant rites in accordance with the beliefs that he had cherished in life. She insisted, though, upon holding a Mass for his soul at the Tower of London. Elizabeth pointedly failed to attend this, along with their former stepmother, Anne of Cleves, who had been welcomed back to court by Mary. Perhaps hoping that this had set a precedent, the younger sister absented herself from all subsequent Masses at court for the following two months. But Mary was far from content to let this pass. Again Renard intervened, convincing her that there was something more sinister behind Elizabeth’s defiance than a mere difference of doctrinal opinion. He urged that “it would appear wise in your Majesty not to be too ready to trust the Lady Elizabeth, and to reflect that she now sees no hope of coming to the throne, and has been unwilling to yield about religion, though it might be expected of her out of respect for your Majesty and gratitude for the kindnesses you have shown her, even if she had only done so to accompany you. Moreover, it will appear that she is only clinging to the new religion out of policy, in order to win over and make use of its adepts in case she decided to plot.”37
Mary needed little convincing of her half sister’s evil intent, and with the approach of one of the most important dates in the religious calendar, she decided to force Elizabeth’s hand. She demanded that her half sister attend Mass to celebrate the Feast of the Nativity of the Virgin, on the eve of which Elizabeth had been born some twenty years earlier. By now, Elizabeth had evidently caught wind of the rumors that were whispered at court about her disloyalty to the Queen and had also noticed that Mary “did not show her as kindly a countenance as she coul
d wish.”38 Afraid of where this loss of favor might lead, she beseeched her half sister to grant her a private audience so that she might plead her loyalty. Mary did not immediately accede to her request, but instead kept her in suspense for two days. She then summoned Elizabeth to a secluded gallery, each of them accompanied by one of their ladies. Upon seeing the Queen, Elizabeth immediately threw herself to her knees and, weeping, begged for forgiveness at having so offended her in the matter of religion. She excused herself on the basis that “she had been brought up in the way she held, and had never been taught the doctrine of the ancient religion,” and therefore entreated Mary to send her books from which she might learn the true faith, cleverly adding: “so that having read them she might know if her conscience would allow her to be persuaded.”39
This was a masterly performance on Elizabeth’s part. At a stroke, she had convinced her half sister that she genuinely repented her perceived disobedience in religion without actually committing herself to adopting the Catholic faith. Mary was apparently taken in immediately and expressed herself “exceedingly glad to see her turn to such good resolves,” assuring her that she would at once arrange for her to be instructed in the old religion. But Elizabeth’s mask soon slipped. Having agreed to attend Mass on the Feast day of September 8, she made it as far as the chapel before suddenly complaining of a violent stomachache and begging to be excused. Mary, though, was having none of it and insisted that she abide by her original promise. Elizabeth therefore reluctantly went ahead, although “complained loudly all the way” and adopted “a suffering air” throughout the service.40