Read Life of Elizabeth I Online
Authors: Alison Weir
When the court returned to Whitehall in August, Katherine was imprisoned in the Tower and Lord Hertford was summoned home, admitted paternity of the child, and joined his wife there, being housed in a separate cell. They were not allowed to meet. On 24 September, Katherine gave birth to a son, Edward Seymour. News of the birth of a male claimant to the throne only made the Queen more incensed against the couple, for she feared that Katherine's ability to produce a son might make her a more attractive prospect as queen in the eyes of the people. In order to make it impossible for the infant to be set up as a rival claimant, Elizabeth ordered that a commission, headed by the Archbishop of Canterbury, should investigate the validity of the marriage.
The commissioners examined the prisoners separately and rigorously, demanding details of their 'infamous conversation' and evidence to substantiate their 'pretended marriage', but of course there was none. The only witness was dead and the priest could not be traced. Hertford had referred to Katherine as his wife in a deed of jointure, but she had lost it. In 1562, after months of investigations, the commission pronounced the union null and void and its issue illegitimate, and, for their 'undue and unlawful carnal copulation', the offending couple were sentenced to imprisonment in the Tower at the Queen's pleasure. Fortunately, Elizabeth had not demanded the full penalty for treason which the law provided for.
However, Katherine Grey's disgrace signalled the end of any hopes that she might have had of being designated Elizabeth's successor, and it strengthened the Queen's resolve never to name her heir: that September she told the new Scots ambassador, William Maitland of Lethington, that she thought it was unreasonable of her subjects 'to require me in my own life to set my winding sheet before my eye'.
Nevertheless, there was a certain amount of sympathy for Katherine; her marriage was regarded as valid, and it was felt that she and Lord Hertford had been too 'sharply handled'. Their supporters believed that, if the Queen had done her duty by marrying and producing an heir of her own, the proceedings against these young people would have been unnecessary.
Chapter 7
'The Daughter of Debate'
Mary, Queen of Scots had since 1558 considered herself the rightful Queen of England; in fact, her chief preoccupation was her interest in the English succession, and she had therefore consistently refused to ratify the Treaty of Edinburgh, which denied her the right to be even 'second in the kingdom' as Elizabeth's heir. She had also declined to acknowledge Elizabeth's title as Queen of England, and continued to flaunt the English royal arms quartered with her own. It was because of this that in the summer of 1561 Elizabeth refused Mary a safe-conduct through England on her way home to Scotland. She later changed her mind, but by then Mary had taken ship from France and landed at Leith, the port of Edinburgh, on 19 August.
Mary's return to the kingdom she had not seen for twelve years perturbed Elizabeth in several ways. Apart from the dynastic threat posed by her cousin, who was regarded by many Catholics in Europe as having a better title to the English throne than Elizabeth, there was the possibility of religious conflict north of the border: Mary had told the Pope that she intended to restore the Catholic faith in her Scottish kingdom.
On a more personal level Elizabeth regarded Mary as her rival: younger than Elizabeth, and reputedly more beautiful, Mary's widowhood meant that the Queen of England was no longer the most desirable match in Europe. It was universally assumed that Mary must marry again, and her choice of husband was also a matter of concern to her cousin, who feared the arrival of a powerful foreign Catholic prince in the neighbouring kingdom. Above all, the near-proximity of the Catholic claimant to the throne posed a continuing threat to the Queen's security. These preoccupations, and the rivalry between the two female sovereigns, were to become the focal points of Anglo-Scots relations for the next quarter of a century.
Born in 1542, Mary had succeeded her father James V within a week of her birth. In order to escape Henry VIII's 'rough wooing' of her as a bride for his son, the future Edward VI, she was sent at the age of five to the French court, where she was educated with the children of Henry II, becoming betrothed to the Dauphin Francis. Her formative years were spent in a luxurious and stable environment, quite the opposite to that in which her cousin Elizabeth grew to maturity.
Mary's education followed traditional lines in many respects. She was imbued with a deep reverence for the Catholic faith, and taught the accomplishments then considered desirable in a well-born woman. Unlike Elizabeth, she was no bluestocking, preferring the bawdy satires of Rabelais, or courtly verse of Ronsard, to weightier works in Latin or Greek. She was brought up to speak and write French as if it were her native tongue, and was taught only a smattering of Italian, Spanish, and Latin, which she could understand but not write. When she returned to her native land, she could remember just enough Scots to carry on polite conversations with Sir Nicholas Throckmorton and John Knox, though she made efforts to improve her command of the language. Although Henry II had groomed Mary as the future Queen of France, Scotland and England, he had not thought fit to have her taught any English, and she did not learn it until well into adult life.
The Queen who returned to Scotland was to all intents and purposes an elegant and graceful Frenchwoman, able to compose stylish sonnets and produce exquisite needlework and embroideries, of which many examples still survive today; she was also an accomplished calligrapher. Always exquisitely dressed, she loved music, dancing, ballets and masques, and was an excellent horsewoman.
Having lived at the French court, she was quite worldly-wise, and there is no doubt that she was extremely attractive to men, which the dour John Knox referred to as 'some enchantment, whereby men are bewitched'. Despite her virtuous reputation, her romantic and impulsive nature led her, however innocently, to encourage men, and because she was a notoriously bad judge of character, this could sometimes have disastrous results: a few tried to take liberties, and others would later cause her worse grief. Moreover, although she was accomplished at exerting her famous charm over even the soberest of men, she found that the opposite sex were more than a match for her when it came to the business of ruling her kingdom. Her own ambassador to England, William Maitland of Lethington, told Thomas Randolph that Mary lacked the mature judgement and political experience of Elizabeth.
At six feet, Mary was exceptionally tall in an age when people were generally shorter than they are today. She was also slim, and had a very pale complexion, frizzy chestnut hair and brown eyes. Her slightly
oriental features were somewhat marred by an over-long nose, inherited from her father. Graceful and dignified in her bearing, she was yet considered to be a most approachable monarch. She was kind and loyal to her friends, and her servants adored her.
Mary was an indomitable woman with strongly-held convictions and the courage to defend them, but she lacked practical experience in the art of government. Ever at the mercy of her emotions, she was subject to mood swings, and rarely hid her feelings. When things went well, she was buoyant with happiness, but setbacks or stress could plunge her into so lachrymose a depression that one English ambassador was driven to describe her as 'a sick, crazed woman'. The unkindness of others could reduce her to the point of collapse, and there were times when she spent days in bed recovering from nervous strain - which was regarded as very odd by many of her contemporaries. Unlike Elizabeth, Mary did not enjoy robust good physical health, but was intermittently ill, often with a mysterious pain in her side. It is possible that these ailments were of an hysterical origin.
For Mary, the kingdom of Scotland came as something of a culture shock after the refinement and luxury of the French court. Scotland was remote from the rest of Europe and had been largely by-passed by the civilising influence of the Renaissance. The climate was chilly and the nobility, who lived in primitive castles and peel towers, uncouth and violent. The religious settlement was strictly Calvinist, and despite the generally warm welcome she received from her subjects, Mary was soon being lectured by John Knox on the 'idolatry' of her masses, which she openly heard in the royal chapels. Knox, whose sermons made Mary weep with anger, feared that the Queen might try to effect a Counter Reformation, but the ruling Protestant clique were prepared to tolerate her Catholicism, having been snubbed - as they saw it - by Elizabeth's failure to marry Arran and ally herself with them. For her part, Mary did not understand the Scots people, nor did she perceive how much, after their struggle with her mother, they hated all things French. To many of them, she seemed a foreigner.
Nevertheless, she was willing to make compromises, and was soon announcing that there should be liberty of worship for all her subjects. Her conciliatory approach found favour with the Scots lords and before long she had established a strong following amongst them.
For the first few years of her reign, Mary's chief adviser was her older half-brother, James Stuart, whom she created Earl of Moray in 1562. Moray was one of King James V's numerous bastards, and had come to prominence as one of the Lords of the Congregation who had masterminded the Scottish Reformation of 1560. Despite this, Moray had vigorously taken the Queen's part against John Knox, by insisting
on her right to hear mass in her private chapel, and for this she rewarded him with her confidence. Thereafter, until she married, she followed his guidance in ruling Scotland
Elizabeth's feelings towards Mary were ambivalent: on the one hand she saw her as a dangerous rival, and on the other she felt a great affinity with her as another female sovereign and as her cousin. Because of this, she decided that, if Mary showed herself willing to renounce her pretensions to the English throne, then she, Elizabeth, would be her friend. Although the Council advised against it, she insisted that she should meet with the Scots Queen, believing that, face to face, they would between themselves resolve the vexed question of the succession and possible misunderstandings over the Treaty of Edinburgh.
It was not long before Mary came to the same conclusion. She had cause to resent Elizabeth, who had done much to help establish the Protestant religion in her kingdom, but Mary also realised that friendly personal relations between herself and Elizabeth could only be advantageous. Her continued refusal to ratify the Treaty of Edinburgh stemmed partly from fear that renouncing the right to use the arms of England might prejudice her future chances of succeeding Elizabeth. Moray and the Scots lords advised her to come to an agreement with her cousin: in return for Mary's renunciation of her claim to the English throne, Elizabeth might be persuaded to recognise her as her heiress presumptive. When this was reported to Elizabeth, she characteristically hedged, whilst Cecil privately shuddered at the prospect of yet another female on the throne after the decease of its present impossible occupant.
Mary sent William Maitland to England with friendly greetings and instructions to ask Elizabeth if she would be prepared to revise the terms of the Treaty of Edinburgh. After a warm welcome, he wasted no time in asserting Mary's claim to be acknowledged as heiress presumptive to the English throne. Elizabeth did not hide her disappointment.
'I looked for another message from the Queen your sovereign,' she said. 'I have long enough been fed with fair words.' No, she went on, she would not meddle with the succession.
'When I am dead, they shall succeed that have most right,' she declared. 'If the Queen your sovereign be that person, I shall never hurt her; if another have better right, it were not reasonable to require me to do a manifest injury.' However, she conceded that she knew of no better title than Mary's, and that if she could avoid a public declaration of her intentions, which might prejudice her security since 'more people Worship the rising than the setting sun', she had no objection to naming Mary as her successor. Nevertheless, Henry VIII's will and the Act of Succession might preclude her from doing so, and any claim Mary might
make would have to be debated in Parliament. 'I am sworn, when I was married to the realm, not to alter the laws of it,' the Queen reminded Maitland. It would be better, she went on, if Mary tried to win the love of the English by showing herself a friendly neighbour; then they might be better disposed to regard her as the rightful heiress.
Even so, the matter was fraught with dangers.
'Think you that I could love my winding sheet, when, as examples show, princes cannot even love their children that are to succeed them?' Elizabeth concluded. 'I have good experience of myself in my sister's time, how desirous men were that I should be in place, and earnest to set me up. It is hard to bind princes by any security where hope is offered of a kingdom. If it became certainly known in the world who should succeed me, I would never think myself in sufficient security.'
This was quite unsatisfactory from Mary's point of view, but it was nevertheless a friendly and reasonable reception of her request, and it paved the way for more cordial dealings between the two queens.
On 17 September Elizabeth wrote again to Mary to demand the ratification of the treaty, but Maitland, during a second audience at which he was less conciliatory, warned her that if Mary was not named heiress to the crown, she might try to take it by force. He reminded Elizabeth that, 'Although Your Majesty takes yourself to be lawful, yet are ye not always so taken abroad in the world.' The Queen was so unnerved by this stark appraisal that Maitland was able to wring from her the assurance that she would review and alter the wording of the treaty. Cecil was naturally unhappy about this, since it had, after all, been his handiwork; he distrusted Mary for her Catholicism and her pretensions to the English throne, and he told Elizabeth so in candid terms, so that she was soon regretting having conceded so much.