In recent times the Tudors have become
entertainment currency, and not only in British media. From television series
to historical novels to feature films, we have seen a plethora of offerings,
mainly stories of Henry VIII and Elizabeth, it has to be said. These often
degenerate into costume dramas or whodunits of political intrigue, where
accuracy is smoothed out of the history to create the kind of simplistic cliché
of plot that mass markets are deemed to demand. “Based on a true story”, that
overworked and internally contradictory byline, is now so overworked that it
would be better omitted. “Fabricated around historical names” would be better.
And though there is nothing wrong with fiction, since it often allows
interpretations that challenge received wisdom, there are real difficulties
when that fiction is transferred into myth whose acceptance becomes so
widespread that it may not be challenged. It could be argued that connotations
associated with terms such as Good Queen Bess, Golden Age or even simply
Elizabethan are in danger of relying more on fiction than fact. Or perhaps
these are nostalgic labels for contemporary ideal states that are thought to be
lacking in our own times.
And so what an absolute delight it is to come
upon a book such as Elizabeth - The Forgotten Years by John Guy. This is a book
that really is based on true stories, since this academic historian of Clare
College, Cambridge references and describes any sources that the reader may
need to back up any point. Timescales are not stretched, statement is supported
by facts and mystery is only allowed to obscure fact when evidence does not
exist.
The forgotten years of John Guy’s title refer to
the latter part of Elizabeth's reign. The earlier years, before the
Armada in 1588 are those that form the backdrop for most of the fictions, with their multiple plots, proposals, match-makings and
conspiracies.
These later years were characterized by war, economic difficulties and
political intrigue. They were perhaps dominated by considerations of
succession, since Elizabeth, of course, had no heir. It is worth noting here,
however, that John Guy, by virtue of a discursive style that deals with issues
rather than a mixture of events arranged chronologically, does offer as context
much background material relating to the years before 1588. This picture that
is purportedly a selective encounter with the later years of Elizabeth's reign
thus contains much rounded and detailed description of her entire reign.
John Guy states several assumptions that must
guide our understanding of the period. In the sixteenth century, he says,
status did not trump gender. Elizabeth was a woman, and that meant that many of
the males at court had little or no respect for her apart from their
recognition of her birthright. And, because her mother was Anne Boleyn, whom
her father married after his denied divorce, even that was questioned by many,
especially those of the old faith, who would also have wanted to do more than
merely undermine this Protestant queen. The author, incidentally, is not
implying that gender issues are or were different in other centuries. As a
professional historian, he is simply defining the scope of relevance that is to
be ascribed to his comment. Secondly, because Elizabeth was a single woman, the
issue of succession had to dominate her reign. In the earlier years this meant
various scrambles to find her a husband in the hope that a male heir might
materialize. But later on, in the period that John Guy's book covers, Elizabeth
was too old to bear children anyway. Discussion on succession, therefore,
shifted from matchmaking into more strategic and political territory.
In Elizabeth - The Forgotten Years, the queen is
portrayed as a fundamentally medieval monarch. She saw herself as descended
from God, the assured kin of all others who shared this enthroned proximity to
the Almighty. Hence, she could not bring herself to sign the death warrant for
Mary Queen of Scots, believing that a decision to kill a royal by anyone would
legitimize the practice, and who then might be next to get it in the neck? And
since this by definition was a direct attack on God, it also carried damnation
as a consequence. Hence Elizabeth's duplicity in letting it be known she wanted
Mary disposed of whilst at the same time denying any responsibility for the
act, thus requiring the person who enacted her wishes to be hauled up for
treason. These medieval royals were above reason, it seems, as well as above
the law. And messengers, it seems, have always been fair game.
This unwillingness to sign a death warrant was
not a weakness that affected Elizabeth very often. It seems that the mere whiff
of a plot or conspiracy quickly resulted in all smells being masked by the odor
of fresh ink forming her signature on an invitation to the Tower. John Guy’s
book regularly takes us to the gallows with these condemned people - usually
men, of course - and offers detail of their fate. A particularly memorable
sentence, specifically suggested by the queen, had one condemned man hanged for
just one swing of the rope, so he could then be cut down and, still alive and
still conscious, witness his own guts and beating heart being placed on the
ground beside him. In an age that still believed in the resurrection of the
mortal body, these treasonous felons had to be dismembered and their parts
separated to ensure they would never have their souls saved. It may have been
God’s will, but it certainly was that of His reigning representative on earth.
This Good Queen Bess, incidentally, was in the
habit of handing down similar fates quite regularly. She also refused to pay
salaries to soldiers and sailors who fought for her, dressed herself in finery
while her war wounded received no assistance or pension and were forced to
sleep rough. She turned two blind eyes to disease and epidemic that ravaged her
forces and population. Elizabeth the patriotic hero also and perhaps
duplicitously sued for peace with Spain, offering Philip II near surrender
terms if she and he could agree to carve up the economic interests between
them.
She handed out monopolies to her courtiers and
lobbyists in exchange for a cut of the earnings. A real strength of John Guy’s
book is the insistence on translating Elizabethan era values into present day
terms. The resulting multiplication by a thousand brings into sharp focus the
extent to which national finances were carved up by elites. While parsimonious
when others were due to receive, Elizabeth for herself demanded only the finest
and most expensive treatment. It was, after all, her Right.
Elizabeth also countenanced an English economy
that raised theft on the high seas to a strategic goal. And her courtiers
treated the expeditions as capitalist enterprises, with ministers and the like
taking shares in the ventures in exchange for a share of the swag. And much of
this would be stolen before it was declared or as it was being landed by handlers
or mere thieves who clearly learned their morals and behavior from the
so-called betters. The market was free, apparently, but those who operated it were always at risk of incarceration.
Thus, Elizabeth - The Forgotten Years will be a
complete eye-opener for anyone who has absorbed popular culture’s portrayal of
this age. John Guy’s book identifies the very human traits displayed by this
Godly queen and posits them absurdly alongside the attitude of her contemporaries
that she was a mere worthless woman.
There are not many figures in John Guy’s
wonderful book who come out unscathed, either in reputation or body. Neither
does he set out to destroy anyone’s reputation. As an historian, he presents
evidence, assesses it and then offers an informed and balanced opinion. This,
however, is healthy, for in the current climate populism is too often allowed
to merge its own version of history into its message. It does so to achieve
some control of a contemporary agenda via the creation of myth, and Tudor
melodramas are not exceptions to this rule. Elizabeth - The Forgotten Years
demands we remember our real past accurately in all its folly, and in so doing
explode many dangerous myths.
No comments:
Post a Comment