Famous Imposters 32

Famous Imposters 32

Elizabeth was three in 1536. The story of the Bisley Boy dates probably

to 1543-4. So that if the story have any foundation at all in fact,

signs of a complete change of identity in the person of Princess

Elizabeth must be looked for in the period of some seven or eight years

which intervened.

 

 

E. THE DIFFICULTY OF PROOF

 

In such a case as that before us the difficulty of proof is almost

insuperable. But fortunately we are dealing with a point not of law

but of history. Proof is not in the first instance required, but only

surmise, to be followed by an argument of probability. Such records as

still exist are all the proofs that can be adduced; and all we can do

is to search for such records as still exist, without which we lack

the enlightenment that waits on discovery. In the meanwhile we can

deduce a just conclusion from such materials as we do possess. Failing

certitude, which is under the circumstances almost impossible, we only

arrive at probability; and with that until discovery of more reliable

material we must be content.

 

Let us therefore sum up: first the difficulties of the task before us;

then the enlightenments. “Facts,” says one of the characters of Charles

Dickens, “bein’ stubborn and not easy drove,” are at least, so far as

they go, available. We are free to come to conclusions and to make

critical comments. Our risk is that if we err--on whichever side does

not matter--we reverse our position and become ourselves the objects of

attack.

 

Our main difficulties are two. First, that all from whom knowledge

might have been obtained are dead and their lips are closed; second,

that records are incomplete. This latter is the result of one of two

causes--natural decay or purposed obliteration. The tradition of the

Bisley Boy has several addenda due to time and thought. One of these is

that some of those concerned in the story disappeared from the scene.

 

The story runs that on Elizabeth’s accession or under circumstances

antecedent to it all who were in the secret and still remained were

“got rid of.” The phrase is a convenient one and not unknown in

history. Fortunately those who _must_ have been in such a secret--if

there was one--were but few. If such a thing occurred in reality, four

persons were necessarily involved in addition to Elizabeth herself:

(1) Mrs. Ashley, (2) Thomas Parry, (3) the parent of the living child

who replaced the dead one; the fourth, being an unknown quantity,

represents an idea rather than a person--a nucleated identity typical

of family life with attendant difficulties of concealment. Of these

four--three real persons and an idea--three are accounted for, so far

as the “got rid of” theory is concerned. Elizabeth never told; Thomas

Parry and Mrs. Ashley remained silent, in the full confidence of the

(supposed) Princess who later was Queen. With regard to the last, the

nucleated personality which includes the unknown parent possibly but

not of certainty, contemporary record is silent; and we can only regard

him or her as a mysterious entity available for conjecture in such

cases of difficulty as may present themselves.

 

We must perforce, therefore, fall back on pure unadulterated

probability, based on such rags of fact as can be produced at our

inquest. Our comfort--content being an impossibility--must lie in the

generally-accepted aphorism; “Truth will prevail.” In real life it is

not always so; but it is a comforting belief and may remain _faut de

mieux_.

 

A grave cause of misleading is inexact translation--whether the fault

be in ignorance or intentional additions to or substractions from

text referred to. A case in point is afforded by the letter already

referred to from Leti’s _La Vie d’Elizabeth_. In the portion quoted

Elizabeth mentioned her intention of not marrying: “I have not the

slightest intention of being married, and ... if ever I should think

of it (_which I do not believe is possible_).” Now in Mr. Mumby’s book

the quotation is made from Leti’s _La Vie d’Elizabeth_ which is the

translation into French from the original Italian, the passage marked

above in italics is simply: “ce que je ne crois pas.” The addition of

the words “is possible” gives what is under the circumstances quite

a different meaning to the earliest record we have concerning the

very point we are investigating. When I began this investigation, I

looked on the passage--neither Mumby, remember, nor even Leti, but

what professed to be the _ipsissima verba_ of Elizabeth herself--and

I was entirely misled until I had made comparison for myself--_Quis

custodiet ipsos custodes?_ The addition of the two words, which seems

at first glance merely to emphasise an __EXPRESSION__ of opinion, changes

the meaning of the writer to a belief so strong that the recital of it

gives it the weight of intention. Under ordinary circumstances this

would not matter much; but as we have to consider it in the light of

a man defending his head against danger, and in a case where absolute

circumspection is a necessary condition of safety so that intention

becomes a paramount force, exactness of __EXPRESSION__ is all-important.

 

The only way to arrive at probability is to begin with fact. Such is

a base for even credulity or its opposite, and if it is our wish or

intention to be just there need be no straining on either one side or

the other. In the case of the Bisley Boy the points to be considered

are:

 

1. The time at which the change was or could be affected.

 

2. The risk of discovery, (a) at first, (b) afterwards.

 

It will be necessary to consider these separately for manifest reasons.

The first belongs to the region of Danger; the second to the region

of Difficulty, with the headsman’s axe glittering ominously in the

background.

 

 

F. THE TIME AND THE OPPORTUNITY

 

(_a_) _The time at which the change was or could have been effected._

 

For several valid reasons I have come to the conclusion that the

crucial period by which the Bisley story must be tested is the year

ending with July 1544. No other time either earlier or later would, so

far as we know, have fulfilled the necessary conditions.

 

First of all the question of sex has to be considered; and it is herein

that, lacking suitable and full opportunity, discovery of such an

imposture must have been at once detected--certainly had it commenced

at an early age. In babyhood the whole of the discipline of child-life

begins. The ordinary cleanliness of life has to be taught, and to this

end there is no portion of the infantile body which is not subject to

at least occasional inspection. This disciplinary inspection lasts

by force of habit until another stage on the journey towards puberty

has been reached. Commercial use in America fixes stages of incipient

womanhood--by dry goods’ advertisement--as “children’s, misses’ and

girls’ clothing,” and the illustration will sufficiently serve. It

seems at first glance an almost unnecessary intrusion into purely

domestic life; but the present is just one of those cases where the

experience of women is not only useful but necessary. In a question

of identity of sex the nursemaid and the washerwoman play useful

parts in the witness box. Regarding Elizabeth’s childhood no question

need ever or can ever arise. For at least the first ten years of her

life, a woman’s sex _need_ not be known outside the nursery and the

sick room; but then this is the very time when her attendants have

direct and ample knowledge. Moreover in the case of the child of Queen

Anne (Boleyn) there was every reason why the sex should have been

unreservedly known. Henry VIII divorced Katherine of Aragon and married

Anne in the hope of having legitimate male issue to sit on the throne

of England. Later, when both Katherine and Anne had failed to satisfy

him as to male issue, he divorced Anne and married Jane Seymour for

the same purpose. In the interval either his views had enlarged or

his patience had extended; for, when Jane’s life hung in the balance,

owing to an operation which the surgeons considered necessary, and the

husband was consulted as to which life they should, in case of needful

choice, try to save, his reply was peculiar--though, taken in the light

of historical perspective, not at variance with his dominating idea.

Gregorio Leti thus describes the incident (the quotation is made from

the translation of the Italian into French and published in Amsterdam

in 1694):--

 

“Quand les médécins demandèrent au Roi qui l’on sauverait de

la mère ou de l’enfant, il répondit, qu’il auroit extremement

souhait de pouvoir sauver la mère et l’enfant, mais que cel

n’étant possible, il vouloit que l’on sauvat l’enfant plutôt que

la mère parce qu’il trouveroit assez d’autres femmes.”

 

It had become a monomania with Henry that he should be father of a

lawful son; and when the child of his second union was expected, he

so took the consummation of his wishes for granted that those in

attendance on his wife were actually afraid to tell him the truth. It

would have been fortune and social honour to whosoever should bear

him the glad tidings. We may be sure then that news so welcome would

never have been perverted by those who had so much to gain. As it was,

the “lady-mistress”--as she called herself--of the little Princess,

Mrs. (afterwards Lady) Bryan, wrote in her letter to Lord Cromwell in

1536--Elizabeth being then in her third year:--

 

“She is as toward a child and as gentle of conditions, as ever I

knew any in my life.”

 

The writer could have had no ignorance as to the sex of the child, for

in the same letter she gives Cromwell a list of her wants in the way

of clothing; which list is of the most intimate kind, including gown,

kirtle, petticoat, “no manner of linen nor smocks,” kerchiefs, rails,

body stitchets, handkerchiefs, sleeves, mufflers, biggens. As in the

same letter it is mentioned that the women attending the child were

under the rule of Lady Bryan--an accomplished nurse who had brought up

Princess Mary and had been “governess to the children his Grace have

had ever since”--it can be easily understood she was well acquainted

with even the smallest detail of the royal nursery. Had the trouble of

the lady-mistress been with regard to superabundance of underclothing,

one might have understood ignorance on the part of the responsible

controller; but in the plentiful lack of almost every garment necessary

for the child’s wear by day or by night there could be no question as

to her ostensible sex at this age.

 

Thence on, there were experienced and devoted persons round the little

Princess, whose value in her father’s eyes was largely enhanced since

he had secured, for the time, her legitimacy by an Act of Parliament.