The most dangerous enemy, p.19
The Most Dangerous Enemy, page 19
part #3 of The Elizabeth of England Chronicles Series
Chapter Twenty-Three
Whitehall Palace
Winter 1559
Suitors, it seemed, were popping up from nowhere and everywhere, like hares in breeding season, to seek my hand in marriage. I flatter myself that it was not only the beckoning gold of my crown, but also my comparative youth, fresh skin and wit that brought some of the princes to my door. So often, royal marriages are made between the very old and the very young; between adult and child. Although the production of heirs is of paramount importance to continue the line of a dynasty, so, too, many royal marriages are made to satisfy a political position of the mere moment. The opportunity to marry a fresh and young Queen such as myself was therefore something of a rarity. And if my country was not as rich as many in Europe, it was of great strategic importance.
Count von Helfenstein arrived at court that winter, seeking me as a bride for either of the two sons of Ferdinand I of Austria, the Holy Roman Emperor. He did not seem to mind which, though he thoughtfully informed me that there was a greater chance of harmony with the younger of the two, since the elder was a zealous Catholic…
Prince Erik of Sweden, though he did not get one, had tried to demand an answer to his suit even before my coronation, and then showered me with furs and tapestry afterwards. The Duke of Saxony sent ambassadors, weighed down with messages of their master’s adoration for me. The Earl of Arundel, a distinctly foolish Englishman, seemed to think that his vast wealth would buy me where his manners failed to charm me into marriage. Sir William Pickering, a most handsome young gallant, thought that my admiration for him as a courtier was enough to warrant a spot for his pert bottom upon my throne, and lastly, my sister’s husband, Phillip II of Spain, sent Duke Feria to attempt to convince me to hand my power and country over to him, as my sister had done.
If you are as confused by the array of men who came prancing to the English court that winter to petition me for my hand, then you are not the only one!
This bewildering array of suitors inspired not only a spate of wild and salacious gossip in the halls of court, about whom I would choose to marry, but also bizarre rumours of elopement or kidnap, vast wagers made on the strength of but a kind word, gifts and bribes made to my ladies for their information and the rise of many young men at court, all who fancied they must be the man for me.
To a woman with little inclination to marry, perhaps this should have been an irritating spectacle; hoards of young cocks, all pecking at each other to gain the power and position I held alone.
But it was not.
To own the truth, for me, it was the source of the most extravagant amusement and diversion! I was the prize in one of the greatest races in history and my slightest look, smile or glance would set off a frenzy of betting, talk and gossip. Many were the times I could not but hold my sides which ached with mirth as I watched one arrogant peacock after another parade in front of me, their hopes soon to be sent dashing to the floor with but a tiny frown on my part. And then the court would turn its head to the next peacock and the next… and the games went on and on.
I loved none of them, and none of them loved me, so it was not hard to find enjoyment in sending the flock flying in one direction or another over that winter. It was not hard to accept their many gifts and compliments, nor to bask in the adoration of so many, no matter how silly and false it all was. I felt sorry for none of them; they did not love, not truly… they all wanted my crown and that was all…
But in my secret heart, there was perhaps one man who stood a chance to win the love of which all my suitors sang … but that man was already married and was as unattainable to me as I was to all my fancy suitors.
No one questioned that I would marry… they all just wondered who. I laughed at all of them, not before their faces, but well and heartily in my own private rooms. But even as I was suffused with much enjoyment and amusement at the prancing peacocks that flapped at my side, there was trouble on the horizon… in the shape of my Acts of Supremacy and Uniformity.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Whitehall Palace
Spring 1559
Perhaps it was that I had grown too confident; success early on in a venture can be the undoing of it if one does not see the coming of troubles ahead. In March, as the early spring lambs were born, and the woodlands came alive with the sound of animals rustling in the undergrowth, my Acts of Supremacy and Uniformity were put before the House of Lords. They had become merged into one bill within the Commons, and passed through there in a bare fortnight, aided by the intervention of Cecil, who held a seat for Lincolnshire in the House. When it came to the Lords, however, it was received rather differently…
The merged bill for a religious settlement was thrown into vigorous debate. The Lords had postponed the reading of it, no doubt allowing those who opposed it ample time to gather their arguments.
And they all seemed to oppose it. Catholics and Protestants alike.
My simple idea for a moderate path for my people was thrown into danger as the Lords erupted into endless debate and attack. Catholic Bishops and Lords were a majority in the House and they went at my bill like wolves to a hog’s corpse. They attacked it on grounds of political danger, clashing with the papacy, possible sentences of excommunication from the Pope, threat of invasion by other countries, revolution, heresy and schism. The final blow was to question how parliament could give authority over spiritual matters to a woman, who, according to the writings of St Paul, was forbidden even to speak in a Church, let alone become its spiritual leader.
For my part, no matter what St Paul had to say on the matter, I had never noticed that our Lord Jesus Christ held issue with women speaking… in fact He had seemed to actively encourage it…
But I could not speak in the debate. And my beautiful ideas for my country were torn apart on one side, by the fearful Catholics, and on the other, Protestants, who wanted more dramatic reform and change than I had offered. When one strikes a temperate path, there are so often those who will head out on either side, regardless of the merits of the path itself; simply because they are too bull-headed to see any way but their own.
The Lords sent the bill back to the Commons; it now contained that I would be allowed to assume the position of Head of the Church, if I wanted, but that it was a title that conferred no power; the clauses of uniformity were struck out entirely. When I saw what they had done, I wanted to cry for frustration. But I would not demean myself to appear so weakened.
The Commons were stuck; mainly made up of Protestants, they did not want to accept the bill as it was, but they also did not want to reject it, leaving England to remain a Catholic country, complete with the unpopular laws against heresy. They accepted it. The bill was set to return to the House of Lords once again.
“This is a mess, Cecil,” I stormed. “They have mutilated what was to be the defining act of my reign. They have pulled it apart and left us with so little…”
“The Lords were underestimated,” agreed Cecil. “I will admit, Majesty, that I did not expect such a violent reaction to the idea of your resumption of the title of Supreme Head of the Church… I thought that, seeing as your great father and brother had held the title, then the Lords would see no issue in your use of it.”
“People fear what is new to them,” said Parry from the corner of the chamber. “They cannot see what might help them for all their dread of what they have never seen before.”
I nodded. “I think you are right, Parry,” I said, sadly. “We have grown too confident in ourselves here. And now the unification of our country is in peril,” I frowned. “I will not allow this to end here. I will not allow this slip of our judgement to become the death knell of my country’s peace.” I held in my hands a proclamation in my name in which I agreed to the decisions of my Houses… but I could not help thinking that allowing it into the public sphere would be to admit that I had been conquered by the Lords, and, worse, it would not allow there to be a unified religion in England.
“Give me this night to think on the matter,” I said, “before this proclamation is made public. In the morning you shall have either my approval, or another answer.”
Cecil and Parry nodded to me, bowed, and left.
I stood in the window staring at the paper. Could I capitulate and give in now? Should I now agree to this brutalised version of the Acts I had intended to ensure peace in my realm, both now, and in the future? I had grown too confident, thinking that my early victories meant I could not be beaten. But a wise person will learn to see such flaws and amend them.
They had beaten me back, and I had only myself to blame.
But they were about to learn that the most dangerous animal is one who is backed into a corner. Even the smallest mouse will become a force to be reckoned with, at the very moment the weasel thinks he has him trapped.
I considered dissolving parliament, I considered accepting the bill, but I did neither. My right to govern, my own authority had been challenged here, by God’s Blood! I would not submit to such an insult from my own parliament!
I prolonged parliament. I had been beaten back, but I would come out fighting… and if I had to use other means, less honourable than those I had tried before, then I would, for the good of my people, for the good of my England…
Chapter Twenty-Five
London
Spring 1559
On Easter Sunday, I flew my warrior pennant above my head, and came out fighting.
The proclamation in which I acquiesced to the Commons and Lords was destroyed, and I was ready to show my country and clergy that where I led, they would follow. The Supremacy of the Church in England and the right to rule the country were mine in the eyes of God, and I would allow no man to question my right, nor my strength, to rule both as temporal and spiritual leader.
In the Chapel Royal I went to an Easter Mass celebrated in English, with a Protestant wooden communion table, during which communion was offered to all. I led the procession to the table to receive communion, and professed my faith in the redemptive nature of the body and blood of Christ, leaving it open to interpretation whether I considered the body and blood to actually be Christ or not. At Christmas, I had demonstrated my disapproval of the old faith; I was now showing them how the old could be melded with the new. A new English Church in which the best of both sides of the established Christian coin were represented and all men, who were sensible, could see the marks of their faith represented.
In the days that followed, during a recess in the Houses, I set up a public debate in Westminster Abbey. When my sister died, I had promised that I would “not change the Catholic faith, provided only that it can be proved by the word of God.” I kept to that promise now. Delegates, eight Protestant and eight Catholic in number were brought forth to publicly submit their conflicting thoughts on questions I set, to be weighed up by a panel of judges made up of my Privy Council.
During the days that followed, the debate wrangled from gracious discussion to infantile name-calling; they fought over who would have the privilege of presenting their arguments first and in what language. It became childish surprisingly quickly. The Catholic bishops became defiant about continuing with the conference at all; in refusing to do so, they were openly defying me. I will admit to you that the debate was weighted in favour of the Protestants; the questions were framed from Protestant opinion, the debate was in English, and most of the evidence accepted was from Protestant scriptural method… But I wanted to win; I was not about to take the continued defiance of my Catholic lords and bishops any more. They would come to see that my way was not an obliteration of their faith. I needed them to lose, so that my way, my moderate way, could come to life.
Nicolas Bacon, a member of my Privy Council and Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, was appointed to be the overseer of the debate, as I had great faith in his quick mind. But as he asked them, and then ordered them, in my name, to continue, they refused. The Catholic bishops were sulking like little boys, but they would learn that this was an adult’s game they were playing now…
One by one, the Catholic Bishops refused to read their prepared statements. Oglethorpe was actually the only voice of compromise on the Catholic side, making me wonder anew on the man. As each of them defied me, and my Council, I ended the day with dark words.
“And since you will not that we should hear from you, my lords, you may perchance shortly hear from us…” I glared at the rebel bishops.
That night, I had two of the Catholic leaders, Bishops White and Watson, taken to the Tower and locked up in cells for contempt for the authority of the Crown. Since White had been the man who compared me to a living dog at my sister’s funeral, his arrest was particularly pleasing to me… The rest of them, I left free. My Council were not of a mind with me on this, many of them recommended that I lock up all the leaders of the Catholic faith, some of them even had suggested I do it before my coronation. But I did not want to do such a thing.
Now that I had some of the bishops who opposed me installed in my ready cells, as was my legal right, there were fewer left in the House of Lords to oppose me when my bill came back to them. Those who openly defied me needed to learn that I would brook no insolence from my people; I was the Queen, and my word was as the law.
“They just blundered straight into an open declaration of defiance, Your Majesty,” said Bacon, chuckling. “They were so annoyed by the debate, and they all argued so much over the tiny details of who should go first and who should speak in what language, I don’t know if they even noticed that what they were doing was an act of contempt for the Crown until it was too late.”
“They knew,” I said ruefully. “They knew well enough… They want to test us, to see if they cannot have the Catholic Queen they so desire if they cannot have a Protestant one whom they can control and manipulate. They wanted to see whether I would fall if they pushed me; but they will come to understand that I am the bough that does not bend nor break. I am the cliff they cannot chip away. I am the eternal they cannot outlive. I will have order in my realm, and they will not take it from me.”
“They certainly seemed surprised when we arrested them, Majesty,” grinned Parry.
“I’m sure they did,” I winked at my old friend. “But it was their own fault. They acted in outright defiance of the will of their Queen; such an act cannot go unpunished. They have ruled the roost for too long. Under my sister they were strong and felt they could bully the Crown. They will find that I am made of a different mettle… I will not keep them locked away for good of course, but I think we will delay any hearing of their pleas for release for a while, to teach them a lesson.”
“Perhaps until the end of the next session of Parliament, Majesty?” asked Cecil slyly.
I breathed in and thought for a moment. “Yes,” I said to Cecil, as though I had thought about it long and hard. “Until the end of the next session of Parliament indeed. That should give White and Watson ample time to think of the consequences of defying their sovereign.”
Was it fair? To lock away some of the men who would oppose me when my bills came back to the Lords? Probably not. But the words I had spoken were the truth. England had been ruled by petty factions for too long. Under my sister, the Catholic lords and bishops had had their way entirely, and many of those bishops had been a part of the extermination of Protestants through the bloody years of my sister’s reign. They could not be allowed to continue in positions of such power. Those who would remain loyal to me, and would accept my path, I would leave alone, and would even have near me, in my court and part of my Council… but those who would struggle against me I would crush. They would think to look on me and see not a queen, but a woman, and assume me weak. But I would show them that in the heart of this Tudor prince beat a heart and a will every bit as strong as that of my father. This was my England… and I meant to rule it.
My bill, containing amended clauses for uniformity, which I thought would be acceptable to both my remaining Catholic and Protestant subjects, was ready for re-reading in the Lords and many of those who had opposed me before would now be unable to again, because of their most unfortunate timing in defying their Queen. It was my right as sovereign to keep order in my realm, and if that meant locking away the Catholic Bishops who had outwardly defied me, then so be it. It was dangerous ground to be walking upon, to be sure. I had gone far to get my Acts passed, but had I removed enough of those who opposed my will to get the bill through? My sister had once locked all her members of Parliament in a room and held them hostage to get her will done in the land… But I did not want to go quite so far as that. I wanted enough lords and bishops of both faiths there to adequately represent both sides of the debate. England was going to be a Protestant country, but it’s Church and her practises would represent both of the faiths, of that I was determined.
But whatever my qualms, I also wanted to win… And I now had the Catholic ring-leaders in the Tower awaiting release at my pleasure. You can be sure that it would be my pleasure to release them once the debate was done, and I had won. Sometimes a prince must take a path that other men would fear to tread… But with one eye on the uprisings of my sister’s reign, I did not want to be seen as a tyrant.
