Katherine the Queen: The Remarkable Life of Katherine Parr (27 page)

P
RINCE
E
DWARD
was three months short of his sixth birthday when Katherine married his father. Victorian historians and numerous historical novelists have depicted him as a lonely and sickly little boy, overwhelmed by the responsibilities that would be his on Henry’s death, and frequently unwell. A greater contrast to the obstreperous but hardy Yorkshire lad John Neville, who had been Katherine’s first stepson, could scarcely be imagined. Yet in reality, ‘my lord prince’, as he was known, was far
from being a child weighed down with cares, and his health, despite the occasional scare that went with his age, did not give rise to any great concern. Childhood death stalked Tudor England and there must always have been the realization that he might not attain his majority. The prince’s life was, however, carefully organized to protect him as much as possible from the threat of disease. His household moved among the king’s manors, hunting-lodges and smaller palaces on the fringes of London, well scattered in pleasant countryside with healthy air. Access to him was restricted, to minimize risk and protect him from the perils of the plague and other evils that bred in the cities, particularly in the summer. No food was offered to him that had not been meticulously tasted beforehand and even his laundry and clothing was subject to rigorous standards of hygiene and preparation before any apparel came near the royal body. Nothing, it was hoped, was left to chance where Edward’s wellbeing was concerned. A devoted staff, composed mostly of women, looked after him day and night. His household was still under the charge of Lady Bryan, a highly experienced lady mistress who had been responsible, at various times, for both his sisters. The king trusted her and she was not afraid to speak her mind when it came to the children’s welfare. Edward’s early years in her care, with his rockers and his nurse, were mainly passed in the pleasant surroundings of Hunsdon, Havering, Hertford and Ashridge, with all the toys, playmates and attention that he could possibly want. He was a happy, active child, as Lady Bryan enthusiastically reported to Thomas Cromwell very shortly before that minister’s fall in 1540: ‘My Lord Prince’s grace is in good health and merry . . . his grace danced and played so wantonly that he could not stand still, and was as full of pretty toys as ever I saw a child in my life.’
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Among his companions was the young Jane Dormer, later the favourite lady-in-waiting of his sister Mary. Their early games of cards together sound charming, but religious differences separated them later. The Dormers were adherents of the old religion and Jane’s marriage to a Spanish
nobleman in 1558 took her out of England for the rest of her life. But by then the little prince she had helped entertain was five years in his grave.

Edward’s privileged and pampered lifestyle was only occasionally interrupted by glimpses of the outside world where, on his father’s death, he would suddenly take centre-stage. Foreign diplomats sometimes came to call, offering compliments but also reminders that Edward was a public personage. He was not always the most welcoming of hosts and did not like being inspected. So unused was he to male company as a very small boy that he found the long beards of two emissaries from the German Protestant princes alarming and sobbed bitterly into his nurse’s shoulder. When his father married Katherine Parr, Edward himself was newly promised in marriage to the baby Queen of Scots. His thoughts on this development are unknown but he already knew that he was not like other people, so perhaps the idea of marrying a queen was perfectly natural to him, despite his tender years.

Family life, however, in the sense of having two parents close at hand, was not something he had ever experienced. This was partly a product of his position as heir to the throne but it was also brought about by circumstances. His mother had died less than two weeks after his birth and his father spent very little time with him. That much, at least, he had in common with Katherine’s first stepson. But he had not been neglected by other members of his kindred. His half-sister, Mary, was old enough to be his mother and effectively filled that role for him until Katherine Parr came along. Mary visited him often and showered him with presents. Their close relationship would eventually sour during his reign, the victim of court intrigues and genuine religious differences, though it foundered also on Mary’s inability to acknowledge that he was no longer a child. But that she loved him dearly is beyond doubt and he was fortunate to have her attention when he was so young. He also spent time with his other sister, Elizabeth, who was only four years older than him,
but whose prospects appeared much less glorious. They too had a strong bond of affection, forged in living arrangements that were sometimes shared, as was their schoolroom, and deepened by their desire to please their father the king and, increasingly, his sixth wife, Katherine, the woman they both called their mother.

Katherine Parr came into Edward’s life in the last year of what might be termed his unfettered childhood, when plans were about to be made for his education and training as a future king. Her influence, if not direction, of the choice of tutors and study for her stepson is evident in his correspondence with her. There was also a marked closeness of outlook between her own ideas and those of key members of Edward’s household staff. But her importance to Edward personally went even beyond this, for she was the link between the prince and the person he wanted to please more than anyone else in the world – his magnificent, but distant, father.

The prince seems to have been rather frightened of Henry and for this he could hardly be blamed. His father’s visits, though few and far between, were stressful for everyone in Edward’s household and required the boy himself to put on a performance that clearly made him nervous. Such meetings were not intended as opportunities for idle chit-chat but for Edward to prove that he was equal to the role of being Henry’s heir. They were about progress and attainment, rather than paternal love, and Edward was carefully prepared by his tutors for these visits. He must also have received help with the first surviving letter to his father, in May 1544:

Therefore, as often as I recall my mind to that unbounded goodness of yours towards a little manikin like myself, and as often as I inwardly reflect upon my various duties and obligations, my mind shudders – yea, it shudders, so that while shuddering, it also leaps with a marvellous delight: your majesty and the sweetest open-heartedness together carry me away. Hence it is forever before my eyes, the idea
that I am worthy to be tortured with stripes of ignominy, if through negligence I should omit even the smallest particle of my duty.
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The reaction of the reader to this cloying combination of exaggerated flattery and self-abasement is to shudder even more than the prince himself, but to do so overlooks the intention behind this abject missive, which goes on for another page or so, with liberal references to Cicero and Plato. Edward was demonstrating that he fully appreciated the sublime benefits of his father’s kingship, for did not Plato teach ‘that, after all, is the happiest government in which the kings are philosophers or the philosophers are kings. But our happiness I never can sufficiently admire, over whom bears sway the most philosophic of kings and the most kingly of philosophers.’ And in the brilliance of his father was Edward’s own glorious future reflected. Of course, the ‘little manikin’ was not the originator of this letter himself, though he may well have participated in its composition. The words were almost certainly those of Edward’s tutor, Richard Cox, and they were written at a time when John Cheke, the distinguished Regius Professor of Greek at St John’s College, Cambridge, was appointed to join Cox, as the prince’s education started in earnest.

Katherine’s part in these appointments was probably indirect. Henry is unlikely to have left the selection of those who were to train his son for kingship entirely to his wife, much as he loved her. But by the spring of 1544 her influence was considerable and the king was preparing to nominate her as regent during his absence on the battlefield in France. She certainly took a keen interest in Edward’s education and it is reasonable to suppose that she knew and approved of the choices that were being made. Katherine was in the process of developing her own ideas and establishing herself as a patron of learning, as queen consorts before her had done. Her own position would be further strengthened by supporting the prince’s team of tutors, who were among the greatest academic figures of their day.

Richard Cox, then in his early forties, had been educated at Eton and King’s College, Cambridge. For a time he was headmaster at his old school and had been chaplain to both Archbishop Cranmer and the king himself. He was also close to William Butts, the king’s chief physician, Sir Anthony Denny, keeper of the privy purse and later first gentleman of the Privy Chamber, and William Paget, the king’s secretary. With powerful friends like these he scarcely needed the queen’s approval, though he was, no doubt, glad of it and of her devotion to Prince Edward. What is significant, both from the perspective of Edward’s upbringing and Katherine’s own interests, is that this was a close-knit coterie of intellectually outstanding men, committed to the English Reformation. Most wished to see religious reform go further, though they were not so outspoken in the latter years of Henry’s reign as they became under his son.

By the summer of 1544, as Edward approached his seventh birthday, his letter to his father served notice that the prince himself realized that his early childhood was soon to be left behind. His household would now become predominantly male, as befitted his position as heir. It was time to start his preparation for the throne in earnest, with the most ambitious syllabus and the finest minds that England could offer. Combining the best of the humanist approach to the classics with a study of Christianity, an approach that distilled the ideas of European reformers and presented them in the light of English experience, the education Edward received was the most excellent that could be offered in the 1540s. And, despite the impression that might have been given by his correspondence with his father, the prince was not a lonely swot. His schoolroom was shared with a group of privileged boys of noble birth, who would be his courtiers and advisers when he ruled. Healthy physical activity was also part of their daily regimen, as were music and modern languages. It was a well-balanced syllabus but also a disciplined one. Cox, who was later described by one of his pupils as the greatest teacher but also the greatest beater, used the cane to reinforce his authority.
Even Edward was not exempt, though the thrashing he received when his stubbornness became too much for Cox to bear seems to have been sufficient to ensure that he knuckled down to his Latin grammar thereafter. There was no residual animosity on Edward’s part towards Cox, whom he addressed in 1546 as ‘my most loving and kind preceptor’.

The appointment of John Cheke as Cox’s deputy in the summer of 1544 was significant for both Edward and his stepmother. At just thirty years old, Cheke was the greatest Greek scholar of the Tudor age. His pioneering work on Greek pronunciation had caused division at Cambridge and earned him the disapproval of Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester and the university’s chancellor. The controversy that ensued fuelled Cambridge politics for some years but did nothing to diminish Cheke’s reputation. He was soon to develop a major influence over Edward, whose studies flourished under his direction. The child loved the world that his new tutor opened up for him and responded eagerly to a curriculum that in 1544 included memorizing passages from Erasmus and the Bible and at the beginning of 1545 moved on to Latin composition. If this sounds dry, Cheke knew how to leaven the drearier aspects of learning, by arranging visits from other scholars to share their ideas with the prince and even getting John Leland, the antiquary who had travelled throughout England, to come to talk about the country Edward was born to rule. Cheke also used his Cambridge contemporary Roger Ascham, who later taught Elizabeth, to help with day-to-day instruction in the classroom and to teach calligraphy.

It has been said that Cheke owed his appointment to Katherine Parr. He was certainly a protégé of her almoner, George Day, and he remained close to the queen for the rest of her life. Both he and Ascham were ever-conscious of the need to have patronage at court. It was all well and good to be part of the prince’s household and to travel with him to the tranquil royal houses of southern England, but the need for royal patronage
above and beyond the association was important, and Katherine’s was increasingly sought. Cheke was an important contact with Prince Edward and knew of the boy’s increasing affection for his stepmother. Her encouragement of his studies worked to everyone’s advantage.

For, unlike with his father, Edward could write to Katherine whenever he desired. There was no need for the formality of his correspondence with Henry, the waiting for the appropriate occasion or the artificiality of tone. If Henry responded to his son’s letters the answers have not survived, but Katherine was not too remote to reply. She was a natural recipient of the prince’s efforts at composition, the mother who was always there to give praise and show an interest in his efforts. Edward seems to have kept mementos of Jane Seymour, the mother he had never known, but it was Katherine’s love that helped to shape him and provided the maternal constant that was lacking in his life.