Mary Tudor (50 page)

Read Mary Tudor Online

Authors: Linda Porter

So this first comment on her marital status and prospects reveals a great deal about Mary’s frame of mind and her anxieties about becoming a wife when she was no longer a young woman. It was unthinkable that she could discuss her fears or reveal her embarrassment to a privy council composed of men. If she had to submit herself to the marriage bed, then she understandably wanted to be sure that she felt comfortable in her choice of spouse. She was realistic enough to accept that her personal attractions were fading and that the prospect of motherhood could not be the same as if she were ten years younger. Unmentioned, but accepted by everyone, Mary included, was the more serious prospect of death in childbirth, supposing that she did conceive. Nevertheless, she believed that God, who had shown her such favour in this momentous year of 1553, would extend his blessing and give her offspring, safeguarding her throne, her religion and her succession. But her first thought was that the best chance of contentment lay with with a husband near to her in age and interests, whom she might have the opportunity to meet before finally making up her mind. He must, of course, be Catholic, but that now went without saying. There were plenty of prospects who shared her faith.Yet some of the names being put forward, she told the imperial ambassador, were totally inappropriate. She was ‘old enough to be their mother’. It was a revealing comment.
Charles V, however, was dismayed by her insistence that she wanted to inspect potential husbands beforehand. The emperor did not think that any European prince would be willing to submit himself to the possible indignity of being rejected. He may have been wrong about this, since there was no shortage of candidates for Mary’s hand.The illegitimate ex-princess with the vague title of ‘The Lady Mary’ was suddenly a queen, and she might make her husband a king. Her suitors were a motley bunch, every bit as eccentric as some of those who would court her sister in years to come, and often just as unsuitable.
They split into two broad groups, the English and the foreign, and there was keen rivalry within, as well as between, the groups. Even Habsburg unity broke down in the face of fraternal squabbles. The emperor knew what he wanted but reaching a satisfactory outcome would not necessarily be straightforward. Affairs needed to be handled delicately, and he instructed Renard to conduct the negotiations without taking Scheyfve and the other ambassadors, who did not leave England till mid-October, into his confidence. This caused friction within the imperial embassy in London. Charles could live with this, but he was furious when he discovered that his brother, Ferdinand, King of the Romans, was energetically pushing the claims of his own second son as a rival to Philip and had written personally to Mary. He gave clear instructions to his sibling to desist that were not well received. Meanwhile, his brother-in-law, the long-unmarried Dom Luis of Portugal, resurfaced with a new-found devotion to Mary’s person as well as her money. He, too, had to be deterred from pursuing his interest, since in age and outlook he was by far the closest to Mary’s criteria for an ideal husband.
There were also three English contenders, one serious and the other two improbable.The main prospect was thought to be Edward Courtenay, recently ennobled as earl of Devon, but Cardinal Pole and the son of the earl of Arundel were also mentioned as possibilities. Pole was six years older than Mary and an unlikely choice, whatever ties she felt to him as distant kin and to his mother, her executed lady governess. Though he was a cardinal, he had never been ordained as a priest and could still, in theory, marry. But he wanted to govern a revitalised Catholic Church in England rather than share his cousin Mary’s throne. Arundel’s son, Lord Maltravers, was sometimes spoken of as a suitor for Elizabeth, rather than Mary, and his name may have been put in the frame by those who wished to represent his father as being over-ambitious. Courtenay, though, was a much more serious prospect and the choice of many in government and the royal household who wanted an Englishman, not a foreigner, as Mary’s spouse.
Mary herself desired, above all, someone with whom she could live in harmony and who would be a constant presence in her life. She does not seem to have accepted that this latter requirement could only realistically be met by marriage to one of her own countrymen.Though she acknowledged that marrying was a duty she owed to England, she was also adamant that the selection of a husband was a personal and intensely private process. She would be mindful of the advantages that her choice could offer her country, but she always intended for her English advisers to follow her lead, not express opinions of their own. CharlesV might make suggestions, she told Renard, and she would be happy to follow them, provided she could accommodate her own concerns about marriage.The problem with this approach was its major element of self-deception, since the emperor was not a disinterested party. He already knew how he was going to handle the question, and Mary must at least have guessed what he would propose. At one and the same time, she wanted complete freedom to make her decision and yet to have it come from someone else. To the queen, the process was disturbingly stressful, and she was genuinely anguished, as her behaviour in October revealed.
Nor was there anyone else apart from the emperor to whom she could turn for advice. ‘She would never dare raise the subject with her council,’ she claimed, somewhat disingenuously, and she declared that ‘she had never felt that which was called love, nor harboured any thoughts of voluptuousness … wherefore her own marriage would be against her inclinations’. But she went on to reveal that, in the privacy of her chamber, ‘the ladies who surrounded her talked of nothing else but marriage’.
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This female chattering and encouragement were evidently a great influence on the queen, who could have put a stop to them if she wished but did nothing to discourage them. Many of her women were married, or had been, and they were her main source of information on just what it meant to be a wife.When she told Renard that she had never felt sexual desire she did not mean that she was completely ignorant about sex. Mary refrained from saying so directly, of course, but sex was obviously her main area of concern. She would not be marrying for love, but reproduction was a wifely duty and she was reliant on her ladies to explain the essentials. Her comments indicate that they tried to bolster her resolution by romantic gossip and speculation about the bridegroom’s identity.They were concerned about the queen’s happiness and well aware that she was uneasy about what lay ahead.Yet even within Mary’s chamber, there were disagreements about whom their lady should marry.Without saying so publicly, the queen already accepted in her heart that she could not marry a subject. Whatever others might want for her, no matter how strong the case they put for her to marry within the realm, she would not wed an Englishman.
Though Mary was encouraged towards a foreign match by CharlesV and his ambassador, she reached her conclusion independently. She told Renard in September that ‘she knew no one in England with whom she would wish to ally herself’. He could not have been surprised, as he had earlier described her to the bishop of Arras, to whom he wrote more frankly than the emperor, as ‘great-hearted, proud and magnanimous. If she married an Englishman, her posterity would not have as much renown as if her husband were a foreign prince.’
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In making this observation, Renard displayed a greater grasp of the queen’s character and outlook than many of those who had been around her for years. But he did not comprehend the full picture. As Mary tried to cope with her emotions, only superficially distracted by her ladies and their ceaseless talk of weddings, she came to believe that what was right for her was right for England. A well-chosen, carefully negotiated marriage would raise her country’s stock in Europe, putting it at the centre, rather than the periphery, of European politics. No longer a pariah state, it would be a godly, Catholic country with voice and influence, prosperous and well governed.This was her vision for her country and she was committed to its achievement. Her own happiness would flow naturally from the realisation of this goal. History, temperament and a consciousness that hers was a unique situation, an unequalled opportunity, propelled Mary towards an inevitable choice. She would marry the emperor’s son, Philip of Spain.
Once the queen persuaded herself that she must accept God’s intention for her to marry - and it was an age when everyone expected monarchs to marry and produce children, bachelor kings being virtually unknown - the dynastic choice was an obvious one.The most difficult part for Mary, as she had already made clear, was facing up to the fact that marriage was her duty, just as much as government and religion.
The reaction to her choice has been misunderstood. Strong feelings were aroused but much of the passion evaporated by the time the queen finally went to the altar in the summer of 1554. Political rivalries, religious differences, self-interest and uncertainties about the role of a female ruler were more potent than the simplistic hatred of all things Spanish that has so often been asserted as the sole cause of opposition to Mary’s determination to marry Philip of Spain. But this was still one of the most divisive decisions of her reign. Mary’s determination to pursue the matter in its early stages with only the minimum of consultation has been depicted as a sign of uncertainty and weakness. In fact, it shows an almost arrogant confidence in her role as a monarch. Yet there is no denying the impact, not just of the choice but the way in which it was handled. Mary wanted to make up her mind alone. Pestered by Renard to make a foreign match and her household staff to make an English one, it is hardly surprising that the queen grew overwrought. No matter what she decided, she knew that many people would disapprove.
She was quite right. The issue of Mary’s marriage led to rifts in the council and destroyed the influence of some of the foremost members of her household, who had served her faithfully for years. Another casualty was the Lady Elizabeth, whose fragile relationship with Mary went downhill rapidly in October 1553, as the queen struggled to retain her composure. In thinking of her future, Mary was unable to avoid the past. Elizabeth could not escape the fact that her mother was Anne Boleyn. The fact that the divorce was overturned by Mary’s first parliament, in November, gave the queen great satisfaction, but the scars remained.
The wrangling over the Spanish marriage caused Mary great distress and brought out her fighting qualities. She rejected the notion that it would harm English interests and she had history on her side. It was a union that would have been well regarded in early Tudor England. Her grandfather’s foreign policy had hinged on the match between her mother and Prince Arthur. Charles V, himself half Spanish, had been briefly Mary’s fiancé in the 1520s, when the wider Habsburg alliance was considered not just reasonable but desirable. But times had changed.The map of Europe was complicated by religious revolt and the emperor’s unrealistic commitment to dynastic unity. Then there was the contrary nature of the English themselves. Over and over, Renard repeated that the English did not like foreigners, but they were not the only European people with this negative outlook. The truth was that the issue of the queen’s marriage raised questions for which there were no convenient answers. As the implications of this became more obvious, Mary’s concern to keep things to herself, to avoid becoming the object of an experiment that might deprive her of power, was perhaps a tacit acknowledgement that this was uncharted territory.
If the ruler of England had been a king seeking to marry a Spanish princess, voices of disapprobation would have been far more muted, even in 1553. But Mary was a sovereign lady, a queen ruling in her own right. This fundamentally changed the way her marriage was viewed, and there is no reason to suppose that a French suitor, for example, would have been more acceptable. He would have been just as foreign, Catholic and male as any Habsburg candidate for Mary’s hand. Part of the problem was that there was no clear view of precisely what the husband of a queen regnant should do.What would be the extent of his powers? Would he be an equal, but with as yet undefined executive powers of his own? Or would the queen be turned into no more than a consort if she married, deferring all things to her spouse while she tried to produce heirs? No one knew the answers to these questions because the situation was unprecedented - at least, in England - though there was guidance to be gained from looking at the way Isabella of Castile had ruled. Her husband had no say in the internal politics of his wife’s domains and did not inherit them when she predeceased him. This example was not directly invoked, but Mary, encouraged by Katherine of Aragon long ago to think of herself as a prospective queen, seems to have followed a similar approach.
 
Charles V could not, however, be entirely sure of how Mary’s thoughts were developing, and he did not want to proceed with a haste that might be counterproductive. He was dealing with a woman he did not really know, and though she spoke of him as her father, his parental role had been a long-distance one. He felt it unlikely that Mary would marry an Englishman, but it was not a foregone conclusion. Achieving the desired result required proper groundwork.The day after his ambassadors were ushered into Mary’s presence at New Hall, at the end of July, Charles V set his campaign in motion.To his son Philip, far away in Spain, he wrote a masterly letter:‘I am glad to see our cousin in the place that is hers by right and I hope that her prudence will enable her to restore religious matters.’ To facilitate matters and help reinforce Mary’s success, he was considering, he said, marrying her himself. ‘Her discretion and tact may render it possible’, he mused,‘to propose once more a match which was talked of many years ago…I am sure that if the English made up their minds to accept a foreigner they would more readily accept me than any other, for they have always shown a liking for me.’
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