Mary Tudor - Anna Whitelock [141]
Hastings and Englefield were sent to Elizabeth to inform her of her servants’ confessions but also to “console and comfort her on behalf of her Majesty” and to assure her that Mary trusted in her innocence.2 The armed guard was stood down, and Elizabeth was presented with a diamond ring, a symbol of purity, as a gesture of the queen’s goodwill.3 But, unable to feign total trust in her sister’s fidelity, Mary ordered that she be placed in the guardianship of Sir Thomas Pope, a loyal privy councillor and steadfast Catholic, who was put in charge of her household. As the Venetian ambassador related, Elizabeth was “in ward and custody,” but in “decorous and honourable form,” as Philip had decreed.4
IN JULY, ANOTHER conspiracy came to light, this time involving a young schoolmaster. Impersonating Edward Courtenay, the man issued a bogus proclamation at Yaxley in Suffolk, declaring that Mary was dead and that he, Courtenay, was king and “ye Lady Elizabeth” was queen.5 In the event, the rebellion never got off the ground and the pretender was executed. Once again Elizabeth had been invoked at the heart of a conspiracy seeking to depose Mary, yet this time, in line with Philip’s instructions, the assumption was made that Elizabeth was innocent. At the end of the month, the Council wrote to Sir Thomas Pope, informing him of the wicked behavior of the conspirators “and how for that intent they had abused her grace’s name” by proclaiming Elizabeth the queen.6
Elizabeth responded with extravagant declarations of loyalty. Writing to Mary on August 2, she contrasted “the old love of pagans to their prince” to “the rebellious hearts and devilish intents of Christians in name, but Jews in deed, towards their anointed King.” She invoked Saint Paul to confirm that rebels were indeed devilish, and continued:
Among earthly things, I chiefly wish this one: that there were as good surgeons for making anatomies of hearts that might show my thoughts to your Majesty as there are expert physicians of the bodies, able to express the inward griefs of their maladies to their patient. For then I doubt not but know well that whatsoever other should suggest by malice, yet your Majesty should be sure by knowledge, so that the more such misty clouds obfuscate the clear light of my truth, the more my tried thoughts should glister to the dimming of the hidden malice … And like as I have been your faithful subject from the beginning of your reign, so shall no wicked persons cause me to change to the end of my life. And thus I commit your majesty to God’s tuition, whom I beseech long time to preserve … your majesty’s obedient subject and humble sister, Elizabeth.7
During the autumn of 1556, relations between the two sisters seemed to continue to improve. Elizabeth was freed from Sir Thomas Pope’s supervision and invited to spend Christmas at court. She left Hatfield escorted by two hundred liveried gentlemen on horseback and on November 28, amid cheering crowds, entered the City of London, proceeding to her residence at Somerset House. Three days later, she was received by the queen with honor and amicability. But then suddenly, without any warning, all changed: the invitation for Christmas was withdrawn, and on December 3, Elizabeth retraced her steps back through the city to Hatfield. She was no longer welcome at court.8
PHILIP’S SUPPORT OF Elizabeth had come at a price. With slight prospect of an heir to the English throne born of Mary, he had looked to secure a marriage for Elizabeth that would preserve his interest in England and the Catholic restoration. The intended bridegroom was Emmanuel Philibert, prince of Piedmont and titular duke of Savoy.
The twenty-eight-year-old duke was Philip’s cousin, a loyalist imperialist and committed Catholic who was determined to rid his duchy of the French force that