Mary Tudor - Anna Whitelock [121]
I see a proof of your Majesty’s watchful care for the realm’s and my own interests, for which, and above all for having so far spared the person of the King, my husband, I most humbly thank you … always praying God so to inspire my subjects that they may realise the affection you bear this kingdom, and the honour and advantages you have conferred upon it by this marriage and alliance, which renders me happier than I can say, as I daily discover in my husband and your son, so many virtues and perfections that I constantly pray God to grant me grace to please him and behave in all things as befits one who is so deeply embounden to him.5
IN A LETTER to a friend in Salamanca, a Spanish courtier wrote of Philip’s first months in England:
Their Majesties are the happiest couple in the world, and more in love than words can say. His Highness never leaves her, and when they are on the road he is ever by her side, helping her to mount and dismount. They sometimes dine together in public, and go to mass together on holidays.
But, he continued:
the Queen, however, is not at all beautiful: small, and rather flabby than fat, she is of white complexion and fair, and has no eyebrows. She is a perfect saint and dresses badly. All the women here wear petticoats of coloured cloth without admixture of silk, and above come coloured robes of damask, satin or velvet, very badly cut.
The dominant style at the English court and that favored by Mary was French. Her clothes were not to Spanish tastes, and, as the Spaniard added, neither were the English revelries:
There are no distractions here except eating and drinking, the only variety they understand … there is plenty of beer here, and they drink more than would fill the Valladolid river. In the summer the ladies and gentlemen put sugar in their wine, with the result that there are great goings on in the palace.6
Philip’s efforts to secure the goodwill of the English were being undermined by tensions between the Spanish household Philip had brought with him and the English entourage that had been prepared for his arrival. “The English hate the Spaniards worse than they hate the devil,” wrote one of his household. “They rob us in town and on the road; and one ventures to stray two miles but they rob him; and a company of Englishmen have recently robbed and beaten over fifty Spaniards. The best of it is that the councillors know all about it and say not a word.”7
Philip looked to resolve the issue by retaining the English in formal ceremonial positions, such as cupbearers, gentlemen waiters, and carvers, while Spaniards remained in his personal suite. But complaints and tensions continued. Philip would write to Francisco de Eraso, his father’s secretary, of the embarrassment caused by the two households, “not so much on account of the expense as of the troubles it gave me.” Of the English servants, Philip expressed major reservations: “They are accustomed to serving here in a very different manner from that observed at his Majesty’s Court, and as you know I am not satisfied that they are good enough Catholics to be constantly about my person.”8
By the beginning of September, Renard was reporting, “very few Englishmen are to be seen in his Highness’s apartments.”9 Given the acrimony, a number of Spanish noblemen and gentlemen obtained permission to depart. As the Spanish correspondent put it, “we are all desiring to be off, with such longing that we think of Flanders as a paradise.”10
On Sunday, November 25, Spanish courtiers staged a cane play—a juego de