We think of Mary, perhaps, as physically plain, frumpy in
her presentation, and her few portraits seem to support the view. But when she
became a Queen, subject of the hopes of many, we find another recognizable
portrait. Here she is described, circa 1557, by the Venetian ambassador Giovanni
Michele.
She is of low stature, but has no deformity in any part of
her person. She is thin and delicate, and altogether unlike her father, who was
tall and strongly made, or her mother, who, although not tall, was stout. Her
features are well formed, and, as her portraits prove, was considered, when
younger, not merely good-looking but more than moderately pretty. At present,
with the exception of some wrinkles, caused more by sorrow than by years, which
make her appear older than in fact she is, her looks are of a grave and sedate
cast. Her eyes are so piercing as to command not only respect but awe from
those on whom she casts them, yet she is very near sighted, being unable to
read, or do anything else, without placing her eyes quite close to the object. Her
voice is deep-toned, and rather masculine, so that when she speaks she is heard
some distance off. In conclusion, she is a well-looking lady, nor, putting out
of the question her rank as Queen, should she ever be spoken ill of for want of
sufficient beauty.[1]
It seems fair to say that this is not the general
impression that one receives from her portraits and Protestant biographers. The
eye of a Catholic ambassador sees the world quite differently than a contemporary
fan of Tudor history. Perhaps more
honestly.
As much as the description might seem unexpectedly
complimentary, the description of Queen Elizabeth I in Hayward’s Chronicles
makes Mary’s look diplomatic.
Now, if ever any persone had eyther the gift or the stile to
winne the hearts of people, it was this Queene; and if ever she did expresse the
same, it was at that present, in coupling mildnesse with majesty as she did,
and in stately stouping to the meanest sort. All her facultyes were in motione,
and every motione seemed a well guided actione; her eye was set upon one, her
eare listened to another, her judgement ranne uppon a third, to a fourth she addressed
her speech; her spiritt seemed to be every-where, and yet so [entire] in her
selfe, as it seemed to bee noe where else. Some she pityed, some she commended,
some she thanked, at others she pleasantly and wittily [jested], contemning noe
person, neglecting noe office; and distributing her smiles, lookes, and graces,
soe artificially, that thereupon the people againe redoubled the testimonyes of
their joyes; and afterwards, raising every thing to the highest straine, filled
the eares of all men with immoderate extolling their Prince.[2]
John Hayward was born around the year of Elizabeth’s ascension
to the throne. While this is not, then, a first person memory, he had been
collecting historical recollections throughout his adult life. Surely, he
depended upon sources and his own observations from later in the Queen’s long
reign.
About Elizabeth’s physical appearance upon becoming Queen
he goes on at even greater length.
She was a Lady, upon whom nature had bestowed, and well placed, many of her fayrest favores; of stature meane, slender, streight, and amiably composed; of such state in her carriage, as every motione of her seemed to beare majesty: her haire was inclined to pale yellow, her foreheade large and faire, a [seeming seat] for princely grace; her eyes lively and sweete, but short-sighted; her nose somewhat rising in the middest; the whole compasse of her countenance somewhat long, but yet of admirable beauty, not so much in that which is tearmed the flower of youth, as in a most delightfull compositione of majesty and modesty in equall mixture. But without good qualityes of mynde, the gifts of nature are like paynted floweres, without eyther vertue or sappe; yea, sometimes they grow horrid and loathsome. Now her vertues were such as might suffice to make an Aethiopian beautifull, which, the more a man knowes and understands, the more he shall admire and love. In life, she was most innocent; in desires, moderate; in purpose, just; of spirit, above credit and almost capacity of her sexe; of divine witt, as well for depth of judgment, as for quicke conceite and speedy expeditione; of eloquence, as sweete in the utterance, soe ready and easie to come to the utterance: of wonderfull knowledge both in learning and affayres; skilfull not only in the Latine and Greeke, but [also] in divers other [foreign] languages: none knew better the hardest art of all others, that is, of commanding men, nor could more use themselves to those cares without which the [royal] dignity could not be supported. She was [religious], magnanimous, mercifull and just; respective of the honour of others, and exceeding tender in the touch of her owne. She was lovely and loving, the two principall bands of duty and obedience. She was very ripe and measured in [counsel] and experience, as well not to lett goe occasiones, as not to take them when they were greene. She maintained Justice at home, and Armes abroad, with great wisdome and authority in eyther place. Her majesty seemed to all to shine though courtesy: but as she was not easy to receive any to especiall grace, so was she most constant to those whom she received; and of great judgment to know to what point of greatnesse men were fit to bee advanced. She was rather liberall than magnificent, making good [choice] of the [receivers]; and for this cause was thought weake by some against the desire of money. But it is certaine that beside the want of treasure which she found, her continuall affayres in Scottland, France, the Low Countries, and in Ireland, did occasione greate provisione of money, which could not bee better supplyed, than by cutting off eyther excessive or unnecessary expence at home.
Excellent Queene! what doe my words
but wrong thy worth? what doe I but guild gold? what but shew the sunne with a
candle, in attempting to prayse thee, whose honor doth flye over the whole
world upon the two wings of Magnanimity and Justice, whose perfection shall
much dimme the lustre of all other that shall be of thy sexe?[3]
Apart from a bias or two, mild for their time, this is an
eloquent description of which few writers are capable and even monarchs rarely provoke.
Especially a monarch who imprisoned the writer in The Tower at the end of their
reign as she did John Hayward.
[1]
Madden, Frederick. Privy Purse Expenses of the Princess Mary (1831). xlv-xlvi.
[2] Bruce,
John. Annals Of The First Four Years Of The Reign Of Queen Elizabeth, By Sir
John Hayward, Knt. D.C.L. (1840). 6-7.
[3]
Ibid. 7-8.
Also at Virtual Grub Street:
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