Madeleine de la Tour by Jean Perreal, as Elizabeth of England, Electress of Saxony
Gelica Deal: Today we are here in the privy orchard of historic Richmond Palace west of London as part of the palace’s quincentennial celebration. For five hundred years, since Henry VII rebuilt the older medieval residence of Sheen to serve as his primary official home, Richmond has been indelibly linked to the English royal family.
Thus in our on-going series we are reviewing the lives of the various royalty whose lives have been attached to Richmond at one time or another. Today, we are pleased to be interviewing Jeanne McBride, whose new book on the Princess Elizabeth, the daughter of Henry VII and sister of Henry VIII, who would go on to become the Electress of Saxony and thus play a crucial role in the momentous religious conflicts in the Germany of the sixteenth century, has just been published, and is available by slate and print.
Jeanne: Actually at that point it was called the Holy Roman—
Gelica: Yes, cheers, thanks a lot. Now, would the Princess Elizabeth have spent her youth here?
Jeanne: Actually, the younger Tudor princes and princesses were given the use of Eltham Palace, which has been since the late eighteenth century the official home of the Princes and Princesses of Wales. Of course the princess would have visited on official occasions, and spent some substantial time here in the years—
Gelica: I fancy it must have been a happy childhood.
Jeanne: Not really. The Princess Elizabeth suffered a serious illness from which she almost died at the age of three. Then when she was ten, her beloved mother, Elizabeth of York, died.
Gelica: But deaths from the complications of childbirth must have been part and parcel of life back then, wasn’t it?
Jeanne: They were common, but that doesn’t mean loss wasn’t keenly felt. We think that each of the children of Henry VII were affected differently. We know from letters written later by Prince Henry he was very affected by his mother’s loss. And the same can be said for Elizabeth, who was a year younger than Henry. Records in the ledgers of Henry VII actually survive of payments to various noblewomen and ladies assigned to care for her around this time. Not just pay for time spent, but compensation for bites, kicks and scratches inflicted.
Gelica: She was a little hellion, then?
Jeanne: We would think of it more in terms of an emotionally troubled little girl, who had been close to her mother, coming to grips with her loss only with great difficulty.
Gelica: So what was the relationships like between Elizabeth and the other members of her family, then? Were they close as a result of her mother’s passing?
Jeanne: With respect to King Henry VII, Elizabeth was unmentioned in his will. Now he died just as she had been married off by proxy to Duke Johann of Saxony and was in fact on her way to Wittenberg, so perhaps there are reasons for this omission other than an emotional distance, but there is little contrary evidence of any closeness—
Gelica: And what of her siblings, including Henry VIII?
Jeanne: Well, asides from the infamous letter from Wittenberg wherein she made the accusations against Charles Brandon, there is actually very little correspondence between the king and Elizabeth over the thirty-eight years that followed when they were both alive, certainly less than between he and either of his other sisters. However, she did write her younger sister, Mary. Apparently they had a strong friendship from early childhood that continued on through all the various changes of both their lives.
Gelica: She was also close to Katherine of Aragon, was she not?
Jeanne: Why yes, in fact there is some evidence that Katherine became almost a kind of surrogate mother for the princess after the death of Elizabeth of York. And this is reflected in the frequent, though occasionally interrupted, correspondence between the two between Elizabeth’s departure for Saxony in 1509 and Katherine’s confinement after the annulment of her marriage to Henry. Moreover, as late as 1534 Elizabeth was still maneuvering for her son the Elector Friedrich IV to marry Katherine of Aragon’s daughter, the future Mary I, partly out of her sentimental attachment to Katherine.
Gelica: I can’t imagine Bloody Mary looking too kindly on a marriage proposal from the first family of German Lutheranism!
Jeanne: In truth, they didn’t look too kindly on it either. Elizabeth, first as duchess, wife of the heir to the electorate of Saxony, then as electress, and finally as the electress dowager, essentially ran her own foreign policy by letter in a matter not too different from other powerful mothers and maternal figures of the era, such as Louise of Savoy and Margaret of Austria. But whereas these other women had interests almost wholly identified with the male rulers they were connected with, Louise with Francois I and Margaret with Charles V, Elizabeth’s grand objective in all that she did was the unity of Europe under the Catholic Church.
Gelica: But that would have meant she was explicitly at odds with the policies of her husband and son?
Jeanne: She was.
Gelica: Well how did that work? It wasn’t as if consorts had unlimited job security in this era, Anne Boleyn and all that.
Jeanne: In the case of Elizabeth, that’s actually rather complicated. For the most part the early years of Elizabeth’s marriage to Johann was happy, though their relationship became strained as the conflict between Martin Luther and the Catholic Church intensified.
Gelica: She counselled Friedrich the Wise to hand Luther over, didn’t she?
Jeanne: Counselled, begged, demanded. Now during these same years she bore Duke Johann four children, three of whom survived. She had also become a substantial patron of the University of Wittenberg and the Elector’s foundation in her own right, essentially helping to finance Friedrich the Wise’s relic collection. She also made dazzling contributions to court life in electoral Saxony, attracting well-known artistic figures such as Pierre Alamire and a figure who would become closely associated with her son, Ulrich von Hutten. In short, there were substantial reasons other than her royal lineage that she simply could not be set aside.
Gelica: Would you say she was in love with Johann?
Jeanne: I think it’s fair to say that, given the tone of their surviving letters, yes. Up until when Luther burned the Papal Bull in Wittenberg. From that moment on, their relationship was much changed. I think it’s fair to say there was likely some kind of very difficult personal confrontation, and at that afterwards nothing else between them was the same. Of course none of this is recorded, nor would it be. We simply know that at the time the Papal Bull was burned she was in Wittenberg with the court, and a few months later when she is next mentioned in the records she is holed up at Wartburg, where she would stay until 1525 when she had to be moved because of the advance of the armies in the Peasants Revolt. And of course, there were no more children or pregnancies after that, though she was still not yet thirty.
Gelica: That must have led to some difficult circumstances with the children.
Jeanne: Well, there too the circumstances are different with each one. With the future Elector Friedrich IV, their separation produced something much like the close relationship that existed between her father and Margaret Beaufort. That the pain of this separation may have affected his ideas about religion has been subject to much speculation, of course. But no doubt she was the closest to him, which makes sense given that he was the oldest at the time she was sent away. Johann the Younger seems to have adjusted easily enough to her absence. And in the case of Katarina, the daughter ironically named after Katherine of Aragon, the breach was profound, to the point we actually know Katarina somehow profaned a rosary her mother had given her, likely in protest of her lingering obedience to Rome.
Gelica: And this is the same Katarina who married Henry Brandon?
Jeanne: Yes. Elizabeth finally got her English match, though not with a child of Henry VIII as she wanted but instead her hated enemy Charles Brandon. And the child she married into the Brandons was perhaps the most strenuously evangelically-minded of all her children. Nonetheless, it is often forgotten that through that marriage she is an ancestor of Henry IX and all English rulers since 1603, just as she is the German imperial family.
Gelica: So tell us some more about her relationship to the Holy Prince. Just how much influence could she have had on him, if she were still a Catholic and he a leader of the Reformation?
Jeanne: That too is a very knotty matter. In some cases some elements of the character he exhibited were the results of seeds she planted inadvertently. For example, one of the first recorded disagreements Elizabeth had with her husband Johann was over Spalatin’s tutorship of the young ducal prince. Spalatin was an influential advisor to both Friedrich the Wise and Johann the Steadfast during this period and was a crucial go-between between the court and Martin Luther. Even before his role in the break with Rome, Elizabeth hated him with a fiery passion, though. Apparently the core of the issue was a difference of opinion over the appropriate discipline for her son.
She agitated until she was able to bring in tutors of her choosing for the future Friedrich IV. One of these was the knight Ulrich von Hutten, which is its own issue, and he had his own influence over the future elector. But another was Andreas Karlstadt, a professor at the university who would ultimately become a leading exponent of his own brand of reformation teaching that was actually much more radical than Luther.
So unbeknownst to either Johann or Elizabeth, at the precise same time Karlstadt was developing his radical ideas, he was teaching the bible to the young prince. And whereas Spalatin had a somewhat difficult personality, and provoked the animosity of both Elizabeth and the prince, we know for a fact that the young Friedrich developed a powerful affection for Karlstadt.
Gelica: Hmm, interesting.
Jeanne: Well, it is, actually. Because not only did this directly influence the Holy Prince’s own religious views, it meant that later, when Karlstadt’s influence on the young Friedrich became known, and Luther, and Johann, and even Elizabeth, all concurred that he needed to be put to death to stop the spread of his dangerous ideas, that had an incredible effect on the young future elector. We have it on record that the young man, inconsolable, cried for the better part of two days and had to be prescribed a narcotic for fear he might hurt himself.
From that point on, no amount of doctrinal training would ever make the young Friedrich the starry-eyed pupil of his version of reform that Luther wanted. Nor could Friedrich be persuaded to use violence to enforce doctrinal uniformity on the people of Saxony, which represented of course a huge break with the prior tradition in the west with respect to the role of religion in society.
Gelica: So, one last question then. What did Elizabeth think of her eldest son’s exploits?
Jeanne: The Electress’s career from the Reformation on was a never-ending quest to bring together her two great passions, that of her love for the Church of Rome and her love for her son. In her mind, the two interests were one and the same. She wanted his salvation ardently, and could only imagine it within the framework of his restoration to the Church. Thus as early as the 1519 imperial election she was attempting to negotiate some kind of advancement for him in return for the surrender of Luther or later, the re-establishment of traditional Catholicism in Saxony. The schemes were never-ending, including in one remarkable episode during the marriage of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn an attempt to reconcile her son to the pope, have the pope officially declare the throne of England empty, and have the newly Catholicized Friedrich himself lead an invasion of England to install himself as the new king.
Gelica: That seems rather far-fetched, doesn’t it?
Jeanne: Well, young Friedrich thought so too. Which is why nothing came of it. And that was probably a good thing for the family then known as the Ernestine Wettins. Else it would have unduly complicated their later dealings with Henry VIII.
Gelica: That’s all well and good, but it doesn’t answer the question, does it? The Electress Elizabeth lived long enough to see the pivotal moments of her son’s career as a ruler. She knew he would never be reconciled to Rome, and knew that in fact he had done much to make permanent the breach between the Reformed and Catholic churches. So what did she think of this? Was there pride in her son’s exploits, or regret?
Jeanne: Well, this we know for a certainty. Repeatedly, in the last years of her life, she refers to herself in her letters as the saddest woman in Christendom. She loved her son, but there is no doubt that his victory was her defeat, and in fact as far as she was concerned, the loss of his immortal soul.
Gelica: We are almost out of time. Anything else about Elizabeth you would like to share?
Jeanne: One fact about her frequently neglected is that, despite the deep unhappiness of her latter marriage to the Elector Johann, she is the only child of Henry VII to have survived to adulthood who married just the once. Henry VIII’s exploits we do not need to recite here, nor do we need reminders of Margaret Tudor’s eventful romantic life after the death of James IV of Scotland, or the famous circumstances of Mary Tudor’s marriage to the Duke of Suffolk. But even when the Elector Friedrich IV considered negotiating a marriage for Elizabeth, both as part of the endless diplomatic maneuvering in sixteenth century central Europe, and to get her out of his hair, so to speak, she should could not be prevailed upon. As she put it, she gave her whole heart the once, and that was enough.
Gelica: Well that’s quite sweet, isn’t it? A lovely note to end on.
Jeanne: Didn’t you pay attention to what I’ve been saying? She was imprisoned—
Gelica: And next on Morning Report, new developments in the French synthtelligence scandal may bring down the New Girondin government—