FROM THE PAINTING IN THE NATIONAL PORTRAIT GALLERY (FLEMISH SCHOOL)
The childhood of Mary passed in obscurity; new frocks, a few doctor's bills, a papal pardon, are the few indications of her existence. Once only do we see her, as a child of four, in the winter of 1499, playing in the great hall at Eltham,[ [4] when Lord Mountjoy brought Erasmus to see Prince Henry there. When she emerges into clearer light, she shows herself to be of little mental originality but of strong passions, and it will be interesting to describe, so far as is possible, the qualities she may have inherited from her father and her mother. Henry VIII., Queen Margaret of Scotland, Queen Mary of France, all had these violent qualities which are miscalled Tudor, for they really belong to the house of York.
Her mother, Elizabeth of York, daughter of Edward IV., had been rescued from the arms of her uncle, Richard III., to be thrust into those of Henry of Richmond. She was a rather short woman, inclined to embonpoint, with deep breasts. She possessed a happy, pleasure-loving temperament, was very charitable, deeply attached to her sisters, Katharine, Countess of Devon, and the lady Bridget of York; religious in the outward sense of the word. That is to say, that while she took many journeys for pleasure in the summer, she did her pilgrimages vicariously by means of her servants.[ [5] Her portrait in the National Portrait Gallery is not that of an intellectual woman, it is, rather, a childish face with great comeliness. She had ruddy hair and brown eyes, which she bequeathed to none of her surviving children, who all had the pale blue eyes, looking grey in certain lights, of their father. She was beloved by the Londoners because she was the daughter of her father, and no doubt this means that she had his easy manner, and possibly, like him, was "among mean persons more familiar than his degree, dignity or majesty required."[ [6] She had no influence in Court nor with her husband. All the feminine influence there was centred in her mother-in-law, the Lady Margaret, Countess of Richmond, with whose orderly, ceremony-loving nature Elizabeth must ever have been secretly at feud. Henry believed there was no woman to equal his mother, and the "King's lady mother" regulated the whole Court in personal matters with a despotic hand. Ceremony was to her the breath of her nostrils, and, where she was, nothing moved but to slow and stately music. Elizabeth, on the other hand, loved flowers and gardens, music and disguisings and picnics,[ [7] and she passed on her delight in these things to her children, while she did not "like" her position of subjection; but that there was open revolt we cannot tell. There is a pathetic hearsay picture of her as the comforter of her husband on the death of Prince Arthur in 1502, which shows her gentle nature and soft, comforting manner. (Again, these were passed on to Queen Mary and Henry VIII.) Henry was absolutely broken down by the news, and she hid her own sorrow at the sight of his grief till the first agony of his was passed. But when she went back to her own room, "natural and motherly remembrance of that great loss smote her so sorrowful to the heart, that those that were about her were fain to send for the King to comfort her." This account the writer acknowledges to be at second hand, but whether her reported words be the self-same that she uttered or not, yet the fact remains that in spite of Lady Margaret, Henry turned to his wife for comfort in his great grief. Possibly Lady Margaret grudged the Queen her easy popularity, for she was as beloved as Henry was disliked. "She is a very noble woman," writes the Spanish agent, and suggests that his master and mistress should show her a little love.
Henry's picture has been drawn by Hall. "He was a man of body but leane and spare, albeit mighty and strong therewith, of personage and stature somewhat higher than the mean sort of men be, of a wonderful beauty and fair complexion, of countenance merry and smiling, especially in his communication, his eyes grey, his teeth single and hair thin, of wit in all things quick and prompt, of a princely stomach and haute courage. In great perils, doubtful affairs and matters of weighty importance, supernatural and in manner divine, for such things as he went about he did them advisedly and not without great deliberation and breathing.... Besides this, he was sober, moderate, honest, affable, courteous, bounteous, so much abhoring pride and arrogancy that he was ever sharp and quick to them which were noted and spotted with the crime.... Although his mother were never so wise (as she was both witty and wise), yet her will was bridled and her doynges restrayned. And this regiment he said he kept to thentent yt he worthely might be called a King, whose office is to rule and not to be ruled of other."[ [8]
De Puebla, the Spanish ambassador, found that when he was angry Henry's speech was full of venom, and that the words came from his mouth like vipers and he indulged in every kind of passion. Add to this another Spaniard's estimate of the King. In 1498 Pedro d'Ayala wrote to Ferdinand of Aragon. Henry "is disliked, but the Queen is beloved because she is powerless. They [the people] love the Prince as much as themselves, because he is the grandchild of his grandfather.... The King looks old for his years, but young for the sorrowful life he has led. One of the reasons why he leads a good (i.e. sober) life is that he has been brought up abroad. He would like to govern England in the French fashion, but he cannot. He is subject to his Council, but has already shaken off some and has got rid of some part of this subjection. Those who have received the greatest favours from him are the most discontented. He knows all that. The King has the greatest desire to employ foreigners in his service. He cannot do so, for the envy of the English is diabolical, and I think without equal. He likes to be much spoken of and to be highly appreciated by the whole world. He fails in this, because he is not a great man. Although he professes many virtues, his love of money is too great. He spends all the time he is not in public or in his council in writing the accounts of his expenses with his own hand.... The King is much influenced by his mother and his followers in affairs of personal interest and in others. The Queen, as is generally the case, does not like it."[ [9] The same writer puts down the fact that Henry was more intelligent than his courtiers to his not being a pure Englishman.
From another source[ [10] Henry's impatience with unsupported accusations is emphasized. "Ye would be ware how that ye brake to him in such matters, for he would take it to be said of envy, ill-will and malice," and he would send "sharp writing again that he would have proof of this matter." Further, the King was superstitious, and d'Ayala hints that this is his Welsh blood: "in Wales there are many who tell fortunes." In 1499 he was warned by a priest that his life would be in great danger for a year, and he aged in consequence twenty years in two weeks, and grew "very devout and heard a sermon every day during Lent, and has continued his devotions for the rest of the day."
The whole Court was devout in the same sense, and while one Spaniard says that "when one sees and knows the manners and the way of life of this people in this island, we cannot deny the grave inconveniences of the Princess's (Katharine) coming to England before she is of age ... before she has learnt to appreciate fully our habits of life,"[ [11] another complains that it is impossible in Lent to get a piece of meat in the Court kitchen.[ [12] And the two complaints illustrate well what was and what was not to be found in the Court.
The nursery of the royal children was at Eltham, and there Mary probably remained till she was of fit age to appear in public. During her first two years the "Norcery" was under the care of Mistress Elizabeth Denton,[ [13] of whom Henry and Mary were genuinely fond,[ [14] and when she became one of the Queen's gentlewomen, her place was taken by Mistress Anne Crowmer.[ [15] The children consisted of Henry, Duke of York, the ladies Margaret and Mary, and later on of Lord Edmund, who died a baby in 1500. Arthur, Prince of Wales, who was nine years older than Mary, had been emancipated from women's care, and had his own household. Babyhood in these days was not prolonged, and before Mary was two years old she was dressed like a woman of twenty in kirtles of black silk and velvet edged with ermine and mink, and provided with ribbons for lacing and for girdles,[ [16] while next spring (8th April 1497)[ [17] she was playing about in black velvet edged with tawny tinsel, or in black satin edged with velvet and a kirtle of black damask; the gowns, poor child, already stiff with buckram. Her smocks were made of fine linen. The usual channel by which Mary got all her clothes was an order to the keeper of the Great Wardrobe at the Tower minutely describing the articles to be delivered, signed at the top by her father. The same year (16th November 1497)[ [18] she was given 3 pairs of hosen, 8 pairs single soled shoes and 4 pairs of double. In July 1499[ [19] she was put into colours, and presented with a green velvet gown edged with purple tinsel satin, and a blue velvet gown edged with crimson velvet, both stiffened with buckram, a kirtle of tawny satin edged with black velvet lined with blue cloth in the upper body, and another of black satin lined with black cloth in the upper body, 2 pairs knit hosen and linen smocks. Sheets, blankets, carpets, stools, basins, all chamber furnishings came from the Great Wardrobe, and were not to be had without a personal order from the King. No doubt her grandmother ordered such clothing for her grandchildren as she considered proper, and only once is there evidence that Queen Elizabeth took any interest in Mary's clothes: that was when she paid for the making of a black gown for her just after the death of Prince Arthur.[ [20] What emotions may underlie that bare entry in the Queen's private accounts we can only conjecture.
The education necessary for a young lady was to learn to sing and to dance, to play the lute and other instruments, and to order her discourse wisely. Very much what it was fifty years ago. Henry admired French manners more than any other, and wanted his children to be conversant with them. So with Mary he placed Mademoiselle Jane Popincourt, a child of about her own age, and we may conjecture that the large wardrobe provided in March 1498 for "a French maiden"[ [21] was for her. She had almost the same clothes as the princess, and was called her attendant, and Mary herself says they were brought up together. If Henry's idea was that his daughter should learn to speak French in her childhood, he was disappointed. Probably Jane learnt to speak English, but when Mary's marriage drew near in 1512, she had to have a special schoolmaster to coach her in the language, and this in spite of the fact that in Henry VII.'s court French was the usual tongue. Beyond reading and writing (spelling, alas for the record searcher, was not taught), singing, dancing, and embroidering, Mary's education did not go, and we have only to look at the portrait of her father to realize that he was one of those men who pray, "d'une mule qui brait et d'une fille qui parle latin, délivrez-nous, seigneur." His mother's benefactions to learning at the universities go no way to prove that she believed in it for women, as in fact she did not, and the result was that neither Mary nor her elder sister attained to the intellectual poise which is so remarkable in their descendants, Lady Jane Grey and Queen Mary Stuart.