As we get ready to celebrate Queen Elizabeth I’s birthday on September 7, it’s a good time to talk about this extraordinary woman. She reigned as a single woman. She stood up to the Pope and the King of Spain. She fought back against allegations that she didn’t deserve to reign and wasn’t capable of ruling effectively. She survived threats from home and abroad. She ruled for 45 years and died peacefully in her bed at nearly 70 years old.

            In many ways, Queen Elizabeth changed everything people thought about women and power.

Queen Elizabeth I is regularly associated with her father, Henry VIII. Despite Henry VIII’s efforts to provide a son to rule England after his death, his youngest daughter inherited the throne after Edward VI and Mary I died without heirs. The least likely heir became the most successful of his children and the longest-reigning Tudor monarch. Elizabeth is described as resembling her royal father, perhaps more than his other two children. 

            Elizabeth also had the same charisma and engaging personality as her father. She embraced her father’s devotion to wearing the finest clothing and jewels and to demonstrating her magnificence at every opportunity. She also seems to have inherited her father’s pragmatic approach to religion—she kept her own beliefs quiet and focused on loyalty to the crown. Her religious policy, particularly in the early years of her reign, was more like her father’s than like Edward’s or Mary’s. And Elizabeth’s fiery temper certainly matched the historic temper of Henry VIII.

            Elizabeth I and Henry VIII are certainly the most famous Tudor monarchs, and two of the most famous monarchs of all time. Elizabeth is reported to have linked herself firmly to her father: “I may not be a lion, but I am a lion’s cub and have a lion’s heart.”

            But what of her mother? 

            Anne Boleyn died in disgrace, by the order of her father, before Elizabeth turned three years old. As a result, Elizabeth was “demoted” from her position as Princess. She went from a cherished daughter, showed off by the King to his court, to an outcast whose governess had to beg for her clothing. All of this was associated with the fall of Anne Boleyn. After the execution of her mother, it seemed Elizabeth’s chance of inheriting the throne was gone.

            But Elizabeth did inherit. And she came to the throne as the product of two famous parents. It’s easy to see Henry VIII’s influence on her reign. But I think we can see her mother’s influence as well. For the next couple of episodes, I’ll be examining the connections between these two extraordinary women. Was the royal daughter, so publicly connected to her father, also less publicly connected to the mother she barely knew? I think she was. 

By turning a 35-year old King into a lovesick schoolboy, refusing to be used and cast aside as a mistress, convincing Henry VIII that new ideas about religion were interesting instead of dangerous, championed religious reform, and giving the world not the expected son but a daughter who would put England on the world’s stage, Anne Boleyn created the world her daughter would inherit. I think she left not only a changed England but elements of herself that would guide Elizabeth throughout her reign. Let’s take a look!

The Necklace

            When you go to Hampton Court Palace, you’ll be able to see the famous “Family of Henry VIII” portrait. You’ll see Henry late in life surrounded by his beloved son Edward and Edward’s mother, Jane Seymour. Jane’s presence is a surprise, as Henry was married to Katherine Parr at the time the portrait was created. Outside of this grouping and separated by pillars are the King’s two daughters, Mary and Elizabeth. The two daughters had recently been restored to the succession, after Edward, of course. Two fools, Will Somer and Jane Fool, are seen outside the open doors.

            But what’s really interesting to me is the jewelry Elizabeth is wearing—specifically her necklace. I’ve stared at this necklace for a really long time during several visits, I’ve spoken with Hampton Court guides, and I was even lucky enough to share a discussion with Professor Suzannah Lipscomb while gazing. I absolutely believe Elizabeth is wearing an “A” necklace, likely one inherited from her mother. In fact, the Hampton Court website says that Anne Boleyn’s letter jewelry, including the B necklace and the AB brooch, passed to Elizabeth. I think this applies to the A necklace as well.

            It’s possible that the famous B necklace, or at least a part of it, might be visible in another portrait of Elizabeth as Princess. The well-known portrait of the Princess in a crimson gown with a gold underskirt, is thought to have been painted by William Scrots when the Princess was about 13. She is wearing a double strand of pearls with a gold and jeweled ornament and three hanging pearls. As Professor Eric Ives points out in his significant biography of Anne Boleyn, except for the B versus the jeweled ornament, it is very similar to the B necklace. 

            Perhaps Elizabeth inherited some jewelry from her mother and paid a quiet tribute to her memory by wearing them in official portraits. After all, two of Elizabeth’s closest and longest-serving ladies, Blanche Parry and Katherine (Kat) Ashley were closely associated with Lady Troy, a friend of Anne Boleyn. It’s easy to imagine special pieces making their way to Elizabeth through this network of women. Elizabeth might have also learned about her mother from these women, who would have likely offered a much more sympathetic version of the story than was available generally in the politically charged court.

            I think Elizabeth paid tribute to her mother by wearing her mother’s jewelry. I also think Elizabeth inherited some of Anne Boleyn’s experiences and attributes.

Sophisticated Upbringing and Exposure to Women and Power

            Anne’s upbringing in the most famous courts of Europe turned her into a sophisticated young woman who was used to being noticed. Her father secured her a spot in the household of Margaret of Austria. This was the most dazzling court in Europe, overseen by an intelligent and powerful woman with high expectations for those who served her. Here Anne perfected her French, developed confidence in dress and demeanor, and enjoyed access to the books, art, and music all around her. As one of the most cosmopolitan cities of the time, Mechelen also offered Anne comfort with new ideas, including about religion.

            Margaret was at the center of world politics, and Anne would have seen first-hand her exercise diplomacy and wisdom as she navigated the complex world of the Low Countries. It’s likely that Anne would have been in attendance to Margaret when the regent entertained young Henry VIII after his victory over the French at Therouanne in 1513. Margaret had to maintain relations with her father, the Emperor, and Henry VIII—no easy task, but one Margaret carried off successfully. Anne benefitted from her exposure to the possibilities of women calling the shots and balancing power of the men that surrounded her. That’s a lesson Elizabeth would need.

            From there, Anne travelled to the court of King Louis XII of France to attend his new bride, Princess Mary Tudor—sister of Henry VIII. Anne arrived in France in late 1514 and joined her sister Mary as an attendant of Mary, the new Queen of France. Just three months after the wedding, Louis XII died and most of the English ladies returned to England. Anne, however, stayed in France and joined the household of the new Queen, Claude. The French court was rich in culture, art, books, and music. Anne was in the midst of this, possibly even meeting Leonardo da Vinci.

            Anne almost certainly took part in Claude’s coronation in May 1516. She was also likely in the French court at the Field of the Cloth of Gold in 1520, possibly using her fluency in French to act as a sort of translator. At the event, Anne would have been able to see her parents and possibly her brother George for the first time since she left home for Austria seven years previously.

            Before she left the French court in 1521, Anne would have seen one reality of royal life that must have stayed with her. Queen Claude was pregnant almost constantly. By 1521, she had given birth to five children, with another on the way. She was praised for having provided King Francis with two sons (her pregnancy would provide another son). But despite her successfully providing the heir and some spares, Claude was not well treated by Francis. He was public about his affairs and treated his wife as a breeder not a partner. Claude eventually gave Francis seven children—five of whom lived to adulthood before dying herself at age 25. 

            The contrast between Margaret of Austria, an independent woman in control of her life, and Claude of France, an unhappy woman mistreated and humiliated by her husband, could not have been more clear. Anne Boleyn returned to England having experienced the finest and most sophisticated courts in Europe and the possibilities facing women in those courts. 

            Elizabeth would also see and learn from examples of women and power: from the unhappy marriages of her father’s wives, the unhappy marriage of her sister, and the disastrous final marriages of Mary Queen of Scots. Elizabeth was seven and old enough to understand Anne of Cleves being set aside so her father could marry Katherine Howard. She must have been struck by the way Anne of Cleves, out of marriage, fared much better than Katherine Howard—by 1542, Anne of Cleves was still visiting the King at court and keeping her own court in grand houses, while Katherine Howard was executed at the Tower of London. Even Anne Boleyn’s story, although she was no pawn or quietly desperate mistreated wife, had a terrible end at the command of her husband. Both Anne and Elizabeth paid attention to their options as women in a world primarily ruled by men. 

The Art of Courtly Love

            One of the things Anne learned and perfected at the court of Margaret of Austria and employed during her time in the French court was the art of courtly love. Believed to have been started or at least promoted by Eleanor of Aquitaine and the tradition of troubadours, the conceit was captured in poetry and song. A married lady became the object of a noble knight’s devotion and self-sacrifice. This notion propelled female characters into leading roles in literature throughout Europe.

            The world of courtly love was based on a woman being able to choose her partner and exercise control over him. Clearly this was a complete break from reality where women were often pawns in powerful men’s attempts to gain additional power and wealth through providing a daughter or sister or other woman as a marriage partner for some other man.

            Margaret of Austria was adept at the game of courtly love, and she insisted the members of her household play in accordance with established traditions. Margaret herself wrote this warning:

            Trust those who offer you service,

            And in the end, my maidens,

            You will find yourselves in the ranks of those

            Who have been deceived.

            Protection from the deception of those with “much cunning in order to deceive” was a quick wit and confidence:

            Fine words are the coin to pay back

            Those presumptuous minions

            Who ape the lover

            By fine words and such like.

            Not for a moment but instantly

            Give to them their pay—

            Fine words!

            Word for word, that is justice,

            One for one, two for two.

            They are gracious so to converse,

            Respond yourself graciously—

            With fine words!

            This was the “rule” of courtly love in Margaret’s court, and Anne came to excel at it. She refined it in the court of Francis I while serving Queen Claude.

            Henry VIII wanted his realm to be as elegant as those of the continent and made specific efforts to invest the ideals of courtly love into his regal court. Some see his choice to marry Katherine of Aragon, who had suffered in the years following Arthur’s death, as a way of acting out the chivalric notion of a great knight saving a worthy lady. Katherine was queenly in her demeanor and well suited as the object of Henry’s youthful boasts.

            But as time went on, Henry’s attention shifted to other ladies. Katherine did not become the married-so-unavailable-but-loved-by-knights figure of courtly love. Henry adopted some of the courtly language, but he was more interested in the physical conquest than in limiting himself to poetry and songs.

            When Anne Boleyn first came to the English court, she played the game of courtly love successfully. She and Henry played it with delight very early in their relationship, but as Henry’s focus shifted to making Anne his mistress things changed. Once they were married, Anne did position herself as the married-so-unavailable-but-loved-by-knights figure at court. She used words to tantalize the men around her. In fact, in her game of words she went further than the English court understood. The conventions she had learned in her youth betrayed her in England—her conversation with Henry Norris suggesting he wished to have her for himself was considered treasonous and actually hoping for the King’s physical death. The fine words betrayed her.

            It was Elizabeth who excelled in using some of the precepts of courtly love to navigate her way through the choppy waters of domestic rivals and international enemies. She regularly used “fine words” to prevail in her own way.

            Elizabeth played game of courtly love throughout her time on the throne, modifying the “rules” as she needed. She played the men around her at court off each other, creating jealousies that weakened them and guaranteed she remained the center of attention. She clearly loved Robert Dudley and favored others like Christopher Hatton, but she kept them at arm’s length with bantering conversations and promises that weren’t quite clear and weren’t ultimately fulfilled. She conducted diplomacy through flattering foreign leaders into thinking she was interested in marriage; then hesitating, using words to praise the potential husband and question her own worth, while at the same time ensuring that she had the final word and pulled all the strings.

            Did Anne somehow influence Elizabeth in this? Of course, she didn’t teach any of this directly, but I can’t help but wonder if these ideas got to Elizabeth somehow, along with something like Margaret of Austria’s warning about not trusting those who come with promises. Elizabeth’s style of ruling is much more like Anne’s than like Henry’s. Anne wasn’t the monarch, but she did lead her women and, for a considerable time before her marriage and then for a while at times after, she guided Henry and made an impact on his court.

            In any case, Elizabeth echoed her mother’s use of the game of courtly love to manage life at court and marriage offers abroad. She recognized the value of language and fine words and certainly knew not to trust those who flattered and tried to cajole her. When she sometimes forgot the warning for a time, as I think happened with the Earl of Essex, she recognized the danger and retreated into words once more. A mother’s influence, I believe.

            In the early days of September 1533, the whole of England and Europe was watching and waiting for Anne Boleyn to give birth to her first child. The birth of a daughter changed the trajectory of Anne Boleyn’s relationship with Henry VIII and her life and survival. And the mother she lost as a young child changed Elizabeth’s life as well. Thank you for listening to this first part of the ways Queen Elizabeth I was truly her mother’s daughter. Next time I’ll look at some specific times in Elizabeth’s reign she honored and seemed to be channeling her mother.