A Howard Girl's Story: Mary FitzRoy: Duchess of Richmond and Somerset
"I was born into a family of nobles; a family who always aspired to be more than they were, even if there was nothing but the sovereign themselves above them. I was a Howard girl, as we were often called both behind our backs and to our faces. A Howard girl that everyone was jealous of, that everyone wished to be like. From a young age, I was placed strategically like a chess piece to gain more lands and titles for my family. I was able to see and think about what I was doing, but unable to act against my orders. I was a privileged girl in many ways, but I was also locked away in what seemed like a prison for most of my life, lacking the freedom that even peasant children were allowed in their youth. I was very much alone, being played against my own will in a game I did not even favour." – Mary (Howard) FitzRoy, Duchess of Richmond and Somerset
Mary Howard was the first daughter and second child of Thomas Howard, 3rd Duke of Norfolk and Elizabeth Stafford, Duchess of Norfolk and Countess of Surrey. She was born in 1519, a time where her father, the Duke of Norfolk, was the second most powerful duke in England, second only to her maternal grandfather, Edward Stafford, 3rd Duke of Buckingham.
Though Thomas, her father, was already quite content with his first child, her older brother, Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, and was never very kind to his wife, whom he seemed to use as a vestibule for children, he seemed to take to Mary's personality immediately, even as a child.
Elizabeth held her daughter in her arms tightly, breathing in her fresh scent of roses, which had been obtained by bathing her in a bath of rose petals. She was a good size and round, like a healthy baby should be, and fit perfectly into her arms.
"Isn't she beautiful, my lord?" Elizabeth asked as she held the girl in her arms, lying in bed.
Thomas had been speaking with the doctors and turned only his head to look at his wife. Deep down, he had been hoping for another son. He now had Henry, a healthy child and sure successor to his title, but he wanted a back up. Days like these, you never know what could happen to your kin, it was good to have a secure line of children waiting. "What did you say?" He asked; he was accustomed to ignoring most of the statements his wife made.
Elizabeth did not even bother to sigh, she was so used to his negligence of her. "I said she was beautiful, my lord."
Though Thomas did not care for his wife's words, he turned to look at his daughter anyway. He took a few steps closer to the bed and put his arms out so Elizabeth could pass him the child.
She did as she was beckoned and moved the baby from her arms to Thomas's, though with great personal difficulty. She had tried and tried to love her husband, to be caring and kind to him, but he never returned the favour and so she had almost given up entirely at trying to love him. All she could do now was bear him the children he wanted.
As Thomas took the small girl into his arms, she opened her little eyes, peering around at her surroundings and then looking to him. At first, Thomas thought that she was about to cry, her mouth opening up, ready to unleash whatever ungodly sound it could let out; but instead, she made a small sound and put her hands up into the air, reaching for his face. He didn't know what to do; Henry had been such a quiet child, and even now, at age three, he was not overly talkative. Thomas turned around and began to leave the room, so that his actions were hidden well from his wife. He held the baby up; closer to his face, and smiled at her as she continued to peer into his eyes with her small, blue ones.
"What shall we name you?" He asked her, as if expecting an answer from a baby who did not even have a month of life to her name. He looked at her, realizing she was not swaddled at the moment, but he did not complain for once. She was looking at him so intently, how could he ever be upset with her or around her? "I think we should call you Mary." He told her, bringing her head to his lips, planting a kiss on her forehead.
Little baby Mary opened her mouth again and to Thomas's ears, it sounded as if she laughed. He smiled at her, laughing too, if that was even what she was doing. She was so young and had so much to learn, but he liked her. Something in him wanted to kiss her and hug her. He wanted to treat her like a normal father would treat their daughter. Henry, he treated like the successor to his title, like the future Duke of Norfolk but Mary he would treat like Mary Howard, his second child and his beloved daughter.