by Tracy Borman
This new sense of distance was not helped by the fact that Mary was spending more and more time away from Elizabeth’s and Edward’s households. She and her entourage were often at Richmond Palace or other royal residences farther from London. This pattern had begun during Katherine Howard’s ascendancy, prompted by the reduction in Mary’s household that she had ordered. No doubt the late queen’s obvious favoritism of Elizabeth had not helped matters. Even after Katherine Howard’s demise, Mary had chosen not to rejoin her siblings immediately. It is not clear whether this was by choice or by the king’s command.
As a testament to everything she had learned under William Grindal, Elizabeth wrote a series of letters to her stepmother that were exceptionally articulate and accomplished for an eleven-year-old. These are the earliest surviving letters by the future queen, and the fact that they are all to her new stepmother suggests that she already held her in great esteem. The first one was written in July 1544, exactly a year since Elizabeth had last seen Katherine. She was then at St. James’s Palace in London, while her two siblings were both with Katherine at Hampton Court. It is not clear why Elizabeth was separated from them, but it may have been due to the perennial fear of the plague. The letter is written in Italian, which was a compliment to Katherine, who had also learned this language—although perhaps enjoyed less mastery of it than her stepdaughter. The tone is confiding and respectful. Elizabeth begins by lamenting: “Unkind fortune, envious of all good and the continuous whirl of human affairs, has deprived me for a whole year of your most Illustrious presence.” She goes on to say that this would be “unbearable” were it not for the hope that she would soon be reunited with her stepmother. Elizabeth was profoundly grateful for the care that Katherine had shown for her welfare, despite their separation. “In this my exile, I know well that in your kindness, your highness has had as much care and solicitude over my health as the King’s Majesty. So that I am bound to serve you and revere you with a daughter’s love.”29
Much has been made of that word exile. The assumption is that Elizabeth was in deep disgrace with her father, particularly as she also refers to “not daring” to write to him herself. It is thought that Katherine was therefore trying to intervene with the king on his younger daughter’s behalf and persuade him to allow her back into his favor. But this is unlikely, given that there is no record of what such a disgrace might have been. Men such as Chapuys, who knew everything about court affairs, did not mention it in their correspondence.
Moreover, a short while before Elizabeth wrote this letter, she and her half sister had been shown the greatest honor of all by their father, as he had restored them to the succession. The years of uncertainty and obscurity finally seemed to be at an end. Elizabeth was a princess once more, and as an heir to the throne, she had an immeasurably higher status than as the illegitimate daughter of a disgraced former queen. This transformation was at least in part, if not wholly, due to the benign influence of her new stepmother. Katherine knew that the chances of her bearing the king any children were slight, and therefore she focused her efforts upon uniting him with all of his offspring, not just the adored male heir, Edward. A key part of this strategy was to insure that Mary and Elizabeth were afforded their rightful place in the succession. Little wonder that the latter professed such love and esteem for Katherine in her first letter, assuring her that she was “Your most obedient daughter and most faithful servant.” She later thanked her for having “not forgotten me every time you have written to the King’s Majesty.”30
Prior to Katherine’s ascendancy, Elizabeth had been taught to look upon herself as the illegitimate daughter of a whore, with little prospect of inheriting the crown of England. Even though she was third in line to the throne, it is likely that from this moment she cherished the hope that one day she might be queen. According to the seventeenth-century historian Leti, Katherine encouraged her in this belief. “God has given you great qualities. Cultivate them always, and labour to improve them, for I believe that you are destined by Heaven to be Queen of England.”31 His account was mostly based upon evidence that has since been lost or destroyed, so it is far from reliable. But this apocryphal story has survived the centuries, and the influence that Katherine is known to have had upon Elizabeth’s education and outlook does lend it some credibility.
Following their restoration to the succession in 1544, Elizabeth and Mary came to live at court for prolonged periods. Katherine was the first stepmother for whom the girls felt the same affection. Jane Seymour had favored Mary; Anne of Cleves and Katherine Howard had favored Elizabeth. If Katherine Parr also felt a stronger bond with her younger stepdaughter, however, she did not show it and treated both girls with equal love and respect.
Nevertheless, it was during her ascendancy that Elizabeth and Mary’s relationship began to fall apart. Although an act of Parliament in 1544 had restored them both to the succession, Henry had made it clear that Mary’s rights were strictly conditional upon her agreeing to abide by his religious reforms. If she did not, then Elizabeth would inherit “as though the said Lady Mary were then dead.”32 Mary bitterly resented this demonstration that her favor was still very tenuous and that her younger sister could at any time regain precedence over her. In making this stipulation, Henry had effectively pitted his daughters against each other. This revived the old jealousy that Mary had felt toward Elizabeth, and in the battle for precedence in their father’s affections, she resorted to underhanded tactics.
From the moment of Elizabeth’s birth, Mary had voiced doubts about her paternity. Having been present at Anne Boleyn’s confinement, she had allegedly heard some whispered gossip among the other ladies about the Queen’s promiscuity. According to one account, this “made her declare that she was sure the infant was not her sister.”33 In fact, as Elizabeth grew into adulthood, she came to look much more like Henry VIII than Mary did, which must have been galling to the latter. During Mary’s own reign, the Venetian ambassador would report that “everybody” at court was saying “that she [Elizabeth] also resembles him more than the Queen does; and he therefore always liked her and had her brought up in the same way as the Queen.”34 Yet still Mary persisted in her belief that Elizabeth was not Henry’s daughter. Toward the end of her life, she told a priest that the girl “was neither her sister nor the daughter of King Henry,” and she used this as an excuse to delay naming Elizabeth as her successor. Even when it became obvious that she had no choice but to confirm her younger sister as heir, the prospect of seeing “the illegitimate child of a criminal who was punished as a public strumpet, on the point of inheriting the throne with better fortune than herself, whose descent is rightful, legitimate and regal” was said to be “bitter and odious” to her.35 Perhaps Mary had to believe this for her own peace of mind; otherwise the jealousy caused by her father’s apparently preferential treatment toward her younger sister would have been too much to bear.
In late July 1544, Elizabeth received the summons she was longing for, and she hastened to Hampton Court to join her stepmother. Edward and Mary were already there. The reunion was no doubt a joyful one for both Elizabeth and Katherine, and the former enjoyed her longest stay at court since her earliest infancy. It was also to be the most significant one of her young life, and she had cause to remember it for many years to come.
When Elizabeth arrived at Hampton Court, she found a household that was greatly changed from the last time she visited. Her father was not there. He was leading a military expedition to France, perhaps as much to recapture his youth as to win any strategic advantage. He had appointed his wife to reign as regent in his absence, with the full exercise of royal authority. Not since 1513, when he had left his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, in charge while he went on campaign to Scotland, had England been ruled by a queen. It was an entirely new experience for Elizabeth, who had only ever known her father to be the ruler. She looked on with awe as Katherine, who clearly relished her newfound power, proceeded to rule in the king’s name.
All this would have been witnessed by Elizabeth, who was constantly in attendance upon her stepmother. She looked on as courtiers and ambassadors paid court to the Queen with as much state as they had to Henry VIII. She would also have seen members of the council presenting matters of business for Katherine’s advice or approval. And she would have been present at the banquets and other state occasions that were held in Katherine’s honor. Elizabeth had been raised to be in awe of her father, the king, whom she learned was God’s representative on earth. She had also been taught that women were the weaker sex, incapable of bearing the responsibility of monarchy. And yet here was Katherine presiding over the court with as much confidence and authority as any king. The sight of some of the most powerful men in the country bowing low before a woman was something that she would never forget.36
Elizabeth stayed with Katherine throughout her regency, accompanying her from palace to palace as the court travelled on its summer progress. During this time, she and her siblings came to enjoy a greater stability than they had ever had. They were united as a family under the auspices of a capable and benevolent stepmother who had proved to be genuinely committed to their happiness and welfare. In her letters to the king, Katherine wrote not just of state business, but of his children. “Your Majesties children are all thanks be to God in very good health,” she told him in one.37
This was undoubtedly one of the happiest periods of Elizabeth’s life. Freed from her “exile” in the country, she was now at the very heart of court life, and she loved it. She was learning more in this short time than she had during the many hours of lessons with William Grindal. Classics and languages were all very well, but this sojourn with her stepmother was providing her with something far more valuable: a role model for queenship.
It came to an end all too soon. Henry signalled his intention to return in September, and Elizabeth was dispatched to Ashridge with Edward before their father had even arrived back at court. She had much to contemplate on the way.
Later that year, Elizabeth decided to show her gratitude to Katherine by making her an exquisite New Year’s gift. Determined to prove how much the experience had meant to her, she eschewed the customary trinkets, such as jewels and gold plate, and instead resolved to make this gift a very personal one. With great care, she set about translating “Le miroir de l’âme pêcheresse,” or “Mirror of the sinful soul,” a poem by Margaret of Angoulême, Queen of Navarre and the favorite sister of King Francis I. Her choice was significant. Katherine had read the poem to her during her stay at court that summer, and had introduced her to other writings of Margaret, who shared her religious sympathies and was a leading patroness of reform at the French court. As such, she was also an example of a powerful female figure whose learning and intellect was influencing the lives of many both at court and beyond.
One of the most important lessons that Elizabeth had taken from Margaret of Navarre was that women were essentially weak, inferior beings and that only by emulating the characteristics of men could a queen succeed in this world. As Margaret wrote to her brother, King Francis I, “All my life I wanted to serve you not as a sister but as a brother.”38 Elizabeth took this so much to heart that after she had ascended the throne, she more often referred to herself not as “Queen” but as “Prince” when addressing her subjects. Advocating her “male” characteristics of courage, authority, and shrewdness enabled her not just to survive but also to reign supreme over a society dominated by men. Strengthened by the teachings of powerful female figures such as Margaret of Navarre, together with the example that her stepmother had set as regent, Elizabeth came to believe what to most people—her father included—would have been an abhorrence: A woman could rule successfully in a man’s world.
The theme of “Le miroir” is the inadequacy of the human soul, and the subtext is that only by faith can one be saved. This was a key facet of the new Protestant religion to which Katherine was so devoted, and she had shown her stepdaughter the poem in the hope that it would persuade her to believe in it herself. The fact that Elizabeth chose to translate the poem as a gift suggests that she meant Katherine to know that she had succeeded.
Elizabeth’s choice may have had an additional inspiration. Anne Boleyn had been a favorite of Margaret of Navarre during the time she had spent at the French court in her youth. They later renewed their association in 1534–35, when Anne was queen, and it was probably at this time that Margaret presented her with the original manuscript of “Le miroir.” Elizabeth’s gift could therefore have been a covert symbol of her loyalty toward her late mother.
The translation had evidently taken Elizabeth a great deal of time and effort—more than she had expected, for the handwriting suggests that she had had to finish it in a hurry in order to get it to the Queen in time for New Year’s. She prefaced it with an amusing note in which she begged her stepmother not to show the translation to others at court because it was “all unperfect and incorrect” and “nothing is done as it should be.” But she comforted herself with the knowledge that “the file of your excellent wit and godly learning, in the reading of it … shall rub out, polish and mend … the words (or rather the order of my writing) the which I know in many places to be rude.”39
As a finishing touch, Elizabeth embroidered a beautiful cover for the book, which was bound in exquisite blue cloth. She carefully stitched little forget-me-nots onto the spine and worked heartsease—a herb that signified domestic harmony—in violet, yellow, and green silk at the corners. On the front, she embroidered the initials KP in silver, mirroring the Queen’s customary signature.
Katherine no doubt cherished the gift as a symbol not just of her stepdaughter’s affection but also of the impact that her “godly learning” had had on the girl. The latter would be one of the most significant outcomes of Elizabeth’s relationship with Katherine Parr. Chiming as it did with the beliefs favored by Anne Boleyn, Katherine’s devout Protestantism would confirm and strengthen Elizabeth’s religious views. While the girl may have felt an affinity to that religion out of loyalty to her late mother, under Katherine’s careful tutelage her understanding of it was considerably increased, and she learned to appreciate it for its own merits.
With the new year came a surprising development in Elizabeth’s household. Her old governess, Kat Champernowne, relinquished her spinsterhood and married John Astley, a courtier of good standing.40 The couple may have been introduced by Roger Ascham, who was an acquaintance of both. They shared intellectual and religious interests, but perhaps the greatest attraction for Kat was the fact that John was a relative of her beloved Lady Elizabeth. Hailing from Norfolk gentry, he was first cousin to the late queen Anne Boleyn. This may have won him favor with Elizabeth, for there is no sign that his marrying her governess caused any friction between them. Indeed, John rapidly struck up a strong friendship with Elizabeth and became a valued member of her household. He later recalled the happy times that the three of them had shared in the various houses of Elizabeth’s childhood: “Our friendly fellowship together at Cheshunt, Chelsea and Hatfield … our pleasant studies in reading together Aristotle’s Rhetoric, Cicero and Livy;
our free talk mingled always with honest mirth.”41
This was one of the happiest periods of Elizabeth’s youth. When she was living in her own household, she revelled in the company of Kat and her new husband, and she was also treated to regular visits to court, where she spent time with her stepmother. But she had by no means put her turbulent past behind her. The evidence suggests that Elizabeth developed a fascination with her late mother during her prepubescent years.
In 1545 Henry VIII commissioned a portrait of his family in order to reinforce the strength of the Tudor dynasty and confirm the succession. This was idealized, because it included Jane Seymour, who had died in childbed some eight years before. The other sitters were the king himself, along with his three children. Elizabeth and her sister, Mary, had been restored to the succession, if not to their father’s affection, the year before, and this painting helped to emphasize their new status. Anne Boleyn’s name had been banned from court ever since her execution, for the king hated to be reminded of her. Elizabeth would have known this and would also have been well aware that her return to favor at court was entirely dependent upon the king’s notoriously fickle goodwill. And yet she took a colossal risk by deciding to demonstrate her loyalty to her late mother in this new painting. When she sat for the artist, she wore Anne’s famous A pendant around her neck. This would have been clearly visible in the preliminary sketches, but is barely perceptible in the finished painting. Certainly it was discreet enough to escape the king’s eye. The artist aside, Elizabeth alone would have known that it was there. She must have secretly triumphed every time she saw it.
As Elizabeth grew into adulthood, she became ever more her mother’s daughter, both in appearance and character. With her red hair and long nose, she was every bit the Tudor, and while others questioned her paternity, Henry never had any doubt that she was his. Yet as she matured, it became increasingly obvious that she had inherited a number of her mother’s features. Most strikingly, she had her dark, bewitching eyes that sparkled with something between intelligence, humor, and cunning. She also had Anne’s high cheekbones, long, thin face, and pointed chin, together with her swarthy complexion—although in later life she would disguise this with makeup, in order to achieve the luminous white visage of the Virgin Queen.
