In the unctuous introductory letter to his treatise,Vives made it clear that he understood that the commission was more about Katherine than it was about Mary:
I dedicate this work to you, glorious Queen, just as a painter might represent your likeness with utmost skill. As you will see your physical likeness portrayed there, so in these books you will see the image of your mind, since you were both a virgin and a promised spouse and a widow and now wife (as please God you may long continue) and since you have so conducted yourself in all these various states of life that whatever you did is a model of an exemplary life to others. But you prefer that virtues be praised rather than yourself …
Quite what Katherine made of these references to her early life in England, as well as the strange aside about her marriage, is impossible to know. It would have made uncomfortable reading in the years to come. But then Vives turned to Katherine’s daughter, the beneficiary, he hoped, of his ideas: ‘Your daughter Mary will read these recommendations and will reproduce them as she models herself on the example of your goodness and wisdom to be found within her own home.’ A touching idea, but very much at odds with reality; Katherine and Mary had never lived together in the kind of cosy domestic bliss that Vives described. He would, of course, have known this very well, but it sounded good and related to the philosophy he developed in the writing itself. So he continued in confident vein: ‘She will do this assuredly, and unless she alone belie all human expectations, must of necessity be virtuous and holy as the offspring of you and Henry VIII, such a noble and honoured pair.’ Clearly, it was important to remember Henry as well, and not just for form’s sake.Vives believed that the institution of marriage itself was the foundation of society. He went on to conclude: ‘Therefore all women will have an example to follow in your life and actions . . . and precepts and rules for the conduct of their lives. Both of these they will owe to your moral integrity’.
5
In these closing lines,Vives demonstrated a shrewd understanding of his royal patron. Katherine’s moral integrity was the cornerstone of her being and the unwavering certainty it gave her she would pass on to Mary. The princess did not need Vives’s prompting, as she grew older, to absorb its importance.
The Education of a Christian Woman
has irritated many commentators in modern times, though the most recent edition is more generous in its editorial stance and acknowledges that Vives’s insistence on the intellectual superiority of women is important. But social equality was not something that the Spaniard advocated. His emphasis on the domestic virtues desirable in women is very much in tune with his times - and, indeed, the prevailing attitudes of the next four hundred years. If this seems unrealistic as part of the education of a future queen, it is worth bearing in mind that Katherine of Aragon and her sisters had been taught to bake bread as children in Spain. Presumably they had little occasion to put their expertise into practice as adults. Mary herself told her brother’s privy councillors that ‘her parents had not taught her to bake and brew’, but Vives would have considered this an omission; it was directly counter to his own ideas. He thought all girls should learn the art of cooking, though ‘not the vulgar kind associated with low-class eating houses’.Vives envisaged something closer to a domestic goddess than an innkeeper’s wife, a woman not afraid to work with her hands, fully equipped to manage a home.We should not sneer too much at his insistence on the attainment of such attributes. Running a large household in the 16th century was a formidable undertaking. The skills it called for were eminently transferable to the running of a country, even if this was not officially recognised by a patriarchal society.
Before the Renaissance, women had been seen not so much as second-class citizens as a subspecies. They were the living embodiment of the biblical Eve, an outgrowth of the male that was tainted by sin. Their weakness was explored in the French work
The Romance of the Rose
, which, despite its pretty medieval title, saw women as defiled.The suggestion that such creatures were scarcely fit to inhabit the same world as men was challenged, not surprisingly, by women themselves, notably Christine de Pisan, in her
Book of the Ladies
, written in 1405. Once the debate was opened, the general climate of questioning which characterised the Renaissance had led to the topic recurring and male as well as female writers taking up the pen.
6
Some even argued that women were superior to men.
Vives upheld this view, saying that women often exceeded men in their intellectual capacity.The problem, as he and many contemporaries saw it, was not their minds, but their bodies: ‘In the education of a woman the principal and, I might say, the only concern should be the preservation of chastity.’ There are seven pages in
The Education of a Christian Woman
on the virtues of virginity, and the overall assessment of the carnal weakness of the sex is highly pessimistic.Women were to be kept away from men at the onset of puberty: ‘During that period they are more inclined to lust.’ How to cope with these sudden, raging sexual appetites that consumed previously innocent girls? Vives’s philosophy did not lend itself to sex education.
7
The best approach was through diet. Frequent fasts were beneficial and ‘a light, plain and not highly seasoned diet’ was recommended. One fears that girls brought up in this way, struggling with the hormonal changes of puberty, would have had little enjoyment of life, but it was not all deprivation.Water was the best drink, but a little wine or beer was permissible. The importance of sleep was also recognised: ‘The sleep of a virgin should not be long but not less than what is good for her health.’ It was an austere regimen and not to be relieved by the frivolity of nice clothes or any jewellery other than simple adornment. Silks and fine linens were too worldly and cosmetics vile - rouge and white lead had no place on a Christian face. But worse than all of these was idleness of mind and body because it could easily introduce a girl to completely unacceptable pastimes such as cards and dice.The mere thought of the gaming table appalled Vives: ‘What will a woman be able to learn or think about, who gives herself to gambling?’ he lamented.
The princess for whom these blandishments were intended clearly did not read the distinguished humanist’s writings too closely. Or perhaps she did, but could not really see herself as Vives’s prototype. In truth, not much of it was relevant to her. Mary was a great lady, a future queen, leading a life of luxury and complexity beyond the imagination of ordinary people. She was expected to dress superbly and wear gorgeous jewels, to symbolise power and magnificence in a way that all her father’s subjects, from the highest to the lowest in the land, would understand. She might be a weak woman as far as the theory went, but the real princess was a person apart, for whom Vives’s images of simplicity had no meaning.The moral precepts (and they were important) aside, she would not have recognised this colourless, idealised figure so diligently constructed in
The Education of a Christian Woman
. Her life was privileged, comfortable and predictable. Much was expected of her and she was carefully nurtured to meet these expectations, but austerity was not something she knew as a child. Attention was certainly paid to her diet, which was not as rich as an adult’s, but she was spared the lightheadedness of regular fasting recommended by Vives. As the head of her own court, she was served separately, with as many as 35 different dishes to choose from. This might make a fussy eater, and Mary does seem to have become difficult where food was concerned in her later teens, but that was partly through stress and ill health.
During her time in Wales, the array of offerings had more to do with etiquette than with choice. This was how a princess was served. But variety there was in plenty: seasonal fruit and all sorts of meat and game, desserts and cheese.The ambiance in which Mary ate was also carefully considered. Despite popular Hollywood myths of the Tudors, and especially Henry VIII, as gargantuan eaters with the table manners of swine, dining was intended to be a civilised experience for Mary. Her meals were to be taken with ‘comfortable, joyous and merrier communication in all honourable and virtuous manner’. And, in an age when personal cleanliness was inhibited by the sheer weight of fancy and heavy clothing, not to mention the problems of bathing in draughty, poorly heated rooms, Mary’s servants were to make sure that she achieved standards of hygiene that would have pleasedVives. Careful attention was to be given ‘unto the cleanliness and well wearing of her garments and apparel, both of her chamber and body, so that everything about her be sweet, clean and wholesome ... as to so great a princess doth appertain, and all corruptions, evil airs and things noisome and displeasing to be forborne and eschewed’.
8
It was in the area of her own amusements that Mary diverged most dramatically from the life of Vives’s Christian woman. From her early teens, she adored the very pastime the Spanish educationist had so abhorred. She became an inveterate gambler. Her passion for cards and dice never faded. She was not, and never would be, the one-dimensional girl who could only be fulfilled through domesticity. A princess has the power to follow her own inclinations, and Mary preferred a wager to the embroidery needle. On the scale of priorities for equipping her for her adult life as the heir to the throne, it hardly seemed to matter.
In this situation without precedent, the content of the princess’s syllabus was all important.Yet here, key issues were fudged. It was not in Vives’s brief to address the political implications of Mary’s status, and his writing implied that Mary would marry, an assumption that provided an inbuilt solution, or, at least, a deferment of difficult decisions about her role as head of state.Vives’s work was as much moral as practical, but his suggestions for the substance of Mary’s education, the actual reading and study, may well have been followed by her tutors. They certainly reflected the belief in a classically based education that characterised the teaching of royal offspring throughout the courts of Europe. The emphasis was on the great Latin writers, St Augustine, Boetius, Tertullian, Cicero and Seneca, and in reading Latin translations of the Greek philosophers such as Plato. The Bible was also a favourite source of reading matter. Lighter material did, of course, exist, in the form of chivalric romances, but Vives felt that these were unsuitable for girls, who might get carried away with ideas of courtly love. Licentious books, such as Boccaccio’s
Decameron
, were definitely to be avoided. This all sounds very dry;Vives’s syllabus, though not perhaps suppressing all imagination and enquiry, especially in a good intellect, was nevertheless unlikely to foster these qualities.Whether it was followed more or less closely, Mary developed as a girl with a sound knowledge of the great writers of antiquity, who could translate to and from Latin with considerable facility and who had an abiding love of books. Her study of French continued, under the guidance of Giles Duwes, who had been one of the gentlemen of her chamber but was now given accreditation as her French teacher. Apart from Mary, there was not much call for his services in Wales.
As she grew up, it was evident that Mary was a credit to her tutors. She expressed herself with clarity and elegance. Her hand was clean and legible, much easier to read because it is personal handwriting, rather than the stylised hands used for official 16th-century correspondence. If not truly precocious, she was certainly gifted and her progress seems to have satisfied both of her parents.
Mary’s studies continued to occupy her mother’s mind even after she had left for Wales and Katherine could no longer participate directly in her education.There was regret but also optimism.The appointment of Richard Fetherstone seems to have pleased the queen, who was confident that he could improve Mary’s Latin:‘As for your writing in Latin, I am glad that ye shall change from me to Master Federston [
sic
], for that shall do you much good to learn by him to write aright.’ But she would like to see some of Mary’s work once the tutor had corrected it, ‘for it shall be a great comfort to me to see you keep your Latin and fair writing and all’. This wistful undertone and references to her husband and daughter’s ‘long absence’ as well as her own health, which she describes as only ‘meetly’ good, tell us that the queen was far from happy at the parting with her daughter.
9
The circumstances of Mary’s move had made her angry at first, and regretful, but in the end the honour accorded her daughter must surely have given her satisfaction.
Not since Prince Arthur’s sadly brief sojourn had there been a member of the royal family living in Wales. How comfortable Katherine was in discussing this with her daughter we can only guess. She had long been Henry VIII’s wife, not Arthur’s widow, but it seems unlikely she would have dwelt on the topic, and Mary, with the innate understanding that her upbringing had already given her, probably did not press her mother for information. Ludlow Castle, where Katherine and her first husband lived, was the traditional seat of princes of Wales, but it was in desperate need of repairs. Though these were undertaken and Mary’s council was based at Ludlow, there is no evidence that Mary actually lived there during her time in the Marches.Tickenhill, in Worcestershire, was a palace that she used, as well as Hartlebury. But in the summer of 1525 she went first to Thornbury Castle, not far from Bristol.
10
On a clear day, taking one of the walks prescribed as beneficial to her health and overall contentment, the princess and the countess of Salisbury could have looked out over the lovely surrounding countryside and seen the Severn estuary and the hills of Wales, Mary’s principality, in the distance. Margaret Pole may have had mixed feelings about her destination. Thornbury had been built by the executed duke of Buckingham, whose fatal clash with Henry VIII first parted the princess and herself four years earlier. On arrival, she was no doubt too busy to concern herself overmuch about the castle’s builder, and she seems to have found her time in the Marches pleasant enough.