 I won't be, well, I will be talking about all of those, that list of focuses, but not in any huge depth. It's a slight sort of well-wind tour of the Chapel Royal. How is that? That's better. There we go. So as a political space, the Chapel Royal had two main functions. It projected a powerful image of the monarch's authority over nation and church and provided for the spiritual needs of the sovereign and their court. These functions acted on a domestic and international stage, often simultaneously, both of which should be explored in this paper. State occasions and diplomatic visits, often coinciding with holy days or periods of Christian festivity, provided Elizabeth with a valuable opportunity to project the significance of her Protestant rule on an international stage while also making a powerful statement regarding her authority over the English church to her own subjects. The Chapel Royal has remained only a footnote in broader histories of the Elizabethan church and save for the efforts of individuals such as Peter McCulloch, Fiona Kisby, John Milsom and a handful of other historians, literary scholars and musicologists. The corpus of work dedicated to the Chapel Royal itself is surprisingly slim. The Chapel Royal capital C, capital R was an institution, not a place, and was comprised in Elizabeth's reign of 32 gentlemen, both priests and singing men, who attended to the monarch's spiritual and liturgical needs. Although they often celebrated the liturgy of the Elizabethan Chapel Royal, although they often celebrated the liturgy of the Elizabethan church in royal chapels, these spectacular physical spaces were not the only places that the Chapel Royal was seen and heard. They accompanied her and other Tudor monarchs on a reduced number on progresses around the country. Less evidence survives of this, but it's important to bear in mind when speaking of the Chapel Royal and political space. As this map reveals, the gentleman of Elizabeth's chapel represented a considerable geographic spread, with many serving their parish churches, cathedral institutions or local mercantile life, their horizons were by no means limited to court. Although only one entry is found in this map for Wales, care must be exercised before jumping to conclusions and some clarification should be provided. At least one gentleman came from Wales, Richard Morris, and a handful from the West Country, Bartholomew Mason and William Barnes. The North, meanwhile, is only linked by the parish work of one or two gentlemen. While it appears that no effort was made to secure a geographic spread by the Crown, it's perhaps testament to the political pull of the Chapel Royal, or perhaps the generous wages, that membership of Elizabeth's chapel represented a considerable geographic spread, even if it's only a handful in the localities. When discussing political space in the Chapel Royal, religious controversies and liturgical practice are also necessarily considered, and it's in the Chapel Royal that we find further evidence to complicate ideas of exclusively secular space and early modern courts. Of the handful of accounts of services at Elizabeth's Chapel Royal that survive, James Bell's record of the christening of Edward Fortune Artists, son of Cecilia of Sweden and Christoph II, Marquis of Barden in the Chapel at Whitehall, at which Elizabeth was godmother, is by some way the most detailed. This account will be drawn from throughout this paper, so a quick explanation of its context will help contextualize some of the conclusions they draw. The trip of two leading Lutheran patentates was ostensibly linked to Elizabeth's proposed marriage to Eric XIV of Sweden and to secure English aid in combating piracy in the North Sea. The trip was regarded as a success, particularly by Protestant commentators who saw great promise and strong diplomatic links forged between two leading Protestant nations. While Bell, as a man with hotter Protestant sympathies, had much to gain from stressing Elizabeth's primacy and ceremonial, other sources relating to the Chapel Royal, mentioned at various points in this paper, revealed that Bell's account was far from just propaganda. At Edward's christening, the chapel was sumptuously decorated, hung with gold cloth, the communion table crowded with expensive jewels and devotional items listed here, and lit with an astounding total of 83 lights, placed as lanterns on the roof above the communion table, between the organs and upper window on the tops of stalls and in the royal closet. It was in these areas of the Royal Chapel, the sanctuary, the stalls and the royal closet, that was to form the primary areas of performance for Elizabeth Edward, selected courtiers and councillors and the priests and gentlemen of the chapel royal. By setting the liturgical stage like this, the congregation was given full view, not only of the service, but their queen at specific moments in the liturgy. A comparison of the processions to the chapel highlights the nature of Elizabeth's projection of her own monarchical power. Edward was carried in a solemn procession from Bedford House to Whitehall, with his nurse, retinue, Roger Manners, Sir Henry Radcliffe, Lady Fitzwilliam and the Ladies of Court. Once at Whitehall, Edward passed members of the queen's guard who held unlit tapers and was then carried to the vestry where he waited for the queen. Where Edward is treated with the respect appropriate to a foreign dignitary, the service was centred around Elizabeth's arrival. Once Elizabeth had word that Edward was safely in the vestry, she processed to her chapel closet, quoting Bell, the officers of arms wearing their coats of arms are for her and about her majesty was born six tapers of virgin wax by six gentlemen. The service began with the gentlemen of the chapel singing and call its playing. In this procession, echoing John Adamson's concept of Eucharistic kingship, Elizabeth represented not just the secular office of kingship, but its sacred power too. Further, after Edward's baptism, Edward was taken to the vestry while Elizabeth, Archbishop of Canterbury and Duke of Norfolk were ceremonially washed. Elizabeth's washing was the most elaborate, attended by the Marquis of Northampton and Earl of Leicester, Marquis of Northampton and Earl of Leicester, and then brought spices by Lord Hunston and Robert Rich and a cup of Hippocrates by Henry Sydney. Clearly it was Elizabeth, rather than little Edward, who was the focal point of the service. Elizabeth's authority and importance was articulated not just in spectacular occasional rituals, but in the very fabric, wood and stone of her royal chapels. The royal closet, a room positioned at the west end of royal chapels, opposite the sanctuary and raised above the nave, was a physical reminder of Elizabeth's temporal and spiritual authority. This was heightened by the presence of the royal arms above the window of the closet, looking into the body of the chapel and the painted and gilt juder icons framing the queen. Coupled with the obscured or invisible body of the queen, this had the effect of symbolizing Elizabeth's presence in her royal chapel, even if she could not be seen by the congregation below. The closet was partitioned into the sovereign's closet and consort's closet, called here by the king's and queen's closet by McCulloch. The latter used by Elizabeth for favored courtiers and diplomats and the former by the queen herself. By controlling access to the closet and thereby the royal body, the mystical power of Elizabeth's queenship was evoked and the hierarchy of court reflected. The experience of courtiers and noblemen of the chapel royal was not limited to participation in chapel ritual, but was reflected in the seating plan of the chapel. As revealed by a Jacobian record for chapel attendance, ladies sat in the choir pews on the dean's side and titled the nobility sat on the other. The rest, members of court below the title of baron gathered in the anti-chapel below the royal closet. The pulpit was also incorporated into this politicized space positioned directly opposite, if below, the window of the royal closet. I don't have time to fully explore this here, but an authoritative account can be found in Peter McCulloch's summons at court, but the fact that the pulpit was movable could be iconographically linked to the decoration of the rest of the chapel and Elizabeth's confident use of the closet window to interrupt patronizing or offensive sermons helped assert Elizabeth's authority in the one part of the chapel royal that did not fall directly under her control, sermons. Perhaps more per, sorry, positioned literally and socially above her court, it is difficult not to separate the implications of Elizabeth's spiritual and temporal authority and the hierarchical order below into a broader message of God's approval of Elizabeth's rule. In 16th century eyes, the natural social order of court, a microcosm of the country was seen to be working perfectly, supplemented with beautiful music and sumptuous furnishings along with a distinctly English and Protestant liturgy. The liturgy of the Elizabethan chapel royal is, after its music, its most famous aspect and certainly the most controversial. The cause of this controversy was how elaborate services were. Compared with English parishes and the Geneva example favored by a number of Elizabeth's churchmen, services in the Elizabethan chapel royal certainly looked and sounded closer to pre-Reformation practice. There is, however, a significant caveat to be found here. In broader surveys of the Elizabethan church, such as Professor McCulloch's masterful, the later Reformation in England, the chapel royal is the conservative liturgical cuckoo in the nest of the Elizabethan church, haven for stubborn Catholics. This description echoes many of the musicological and historical interpretations of the chapel royal made throughout the 20th century that by the alleged performance of Latin and the presence of devotional objects, such as the guilt crucifix, Catholics both at home and abroad were made to feel the Elizabethan church, or at least the chapel royal, somehow more accommodating. Once one looks beyond contemporary puritanical complaints, serious limits to this interpretation emerge, firstly there's no credible accounts of Latin being said or sung in the chapel royal under Elizabeth. Although it could technically have been permissible as vernacular, as in college chapels, almost all surviving accounts of chapel services make some reference to the English service said or sung. Indeed, at Edward's christening, Edmund Grindel, the Bishop of London, administered the sacrament of baptism, quoting Bell, without any playing or singing, but only ministered and read the order of baptism in English as it is set out. As other descriptions of chapel services indicate, this was no exception for a Lutheran audience. In 1559, John Stripe noted that the English service began at the Queen's Chapel. English processions are heard during annual garter ceremonies, and courtiers such as the Earl of Sussex were used as translators of English hymns and anthems, foreign dignitaries, such as the Hausberg Ambassador in 1565. Perhaps more pertinent to contemporaries was the much discussed matter of the presence of the built crucifix on the communion table. The cross, specifically the crucifix, was not by itself controversial to Protestant theology generally. After all, it was permitted by Luther and survived in many German churches. For those of a more Calvinist bent, however, the cross is far less acceptable. The crucifixion could not be depicted so long as, sorry, the crucifixion could be depicted so long as it was clearly a historical event and not a point of devotion. The controversy then in the minds of the reformers was not necessarily that Elizabeth's fondness of the crucifix indicated her own Catholic position. Richard Sampson understood Elizabeth's position on this matter to be much close to that of the Lutherans, but rather that the potential veneration of the crucifix set a precedent for Catholics and conservative Protestants around the country to set up crucifixes in their parish churches and private chapels. The matter of the crucifix reached a boiling point in 1560, when a disputation was held to discuss the presence of religious images and crucifixes in the Elizabethan church, which the iconoclasts won. Despite the unauthorized removal or destruction of the crucifix and candles from Elizabeth's chapel in 1562, 1565, 1567, and 1570, they were restored again each time. And by 1586, that foul idol, the cross, stood on the altar of abomination in the words of William Fuller. It's unclear whether the candlesticks either side of the crucifix were lit after 1570. This certainly would have, 1560, this certainly would have indicated to some Protestants that the icon was historical and not devotion. However, in the 1601 communion service, the crucifix appears between two evening tapers, the implication being that they were lit. The crucifix and candles assumed a close relationship with the Queen's person and could be read to represent her authority over the chapel, as on the occasion when two candlesticks and two tapers burning stood on the communion table behind William Barlow as he gave a sermon at Whitehall on the 24th of March, 1560, while the Queen was absent. The association between Elizabeth and her precise Protestant beliefs was thus made early on, and at least regarding the crucifix, changed little throughout her reign. In the face of Puritan apoplexy, Elizabeth stood her ground. Her theological views were held with a conviction befitting the Governor of the Church of England, the patronizing tone and dreary didacticism of Samson, Jules, Sandys, and Grindel in the 1560s attests to that. Not only is Elizabeth underestimated by assumptions of accommodation, but Catholics too. One crucifix does not amass make. Despite descriptions of the chapel royal as a place for stubborn Catholics and implications of religious accommodation, very few known Catholics are identified among the ranks of Elizabeth's gentlemen. William Bird was the only known Catholic who received any form of protection, and even this was in the form of protection from recusancy fines due to a complex network of charisma and powerful Catholic patrons. The others comprised of two religious exiles and the uncertain religious conservatism of Thomas Talis. While there is a certain eagerness by some musicologists and Jesuit historians to read Catholicism in every corner of the compositions of the Elizabethan chapel royal, this remains largely conjectural. Diplomatic readings of the Elizabethan chapel should not be entirely dismissed. There is great value in the European stage. However, by recalibrating things to emphasize Elizabeth's Protestantism, a rather more interesting avenue of exploration emerges. As Edward's christening illustrates, conversations could and did emerge between the typical ornate decoration of majesty and Elizabeth's Protestant faith. An interesting example of this is found in the christening. Behind the communion table hung a tapestry depicting pelicans, as Bell tells us. The pelican to the early modern mind represents a Christological illusion based on the widespread belief that pelicans who are always sort of significantly gendered as female revived their young by pecking open their own breasts, selflessly nurturing their children just as Christ selflessly nurtured man in his life and crucifixion, or the ideal christian monarch nurtured her state. This theme was utilized by Elizabeth in 1575 in her famous pelican portrait which is shown here, though it's perhaps not inconceivable that the same illusion was used in the christening of a crown prince of Sweden to whom Elizabeth was godmother. Fashioning herself as a spiritual nurse to Edward and with hopes of a Protestant Europe, Elizabeth's staunch Protestant faith could clearly take on a distinctly political tone of international significance amplified by her chapel royal. When we look at Elizabeth's chapel as a distinctly Protestant space where Elizabeth's authority was pronounced and projected to both our cause in wider Europe with little variation, we take a step closer to understanding the experience of the religion and the politics found in the post-reformation English chapel royal. Further, if one is to take the political dimensions of Elizabeth's chapel royal seriously, one also has to take Elizabeth's religion seriously. Elizabeth's decision to obscure elements of her beliefs have led to broad applications of the word politic. As listeners to Professor Susan Doran's lunchtime lecture here at the Society of Antiquities heard, this is part of a wider re-examination of Elizabeth's role. Was it politic for Elizabeth to insist on the presence of an icon officially banned in private and public chapels? As I hope this paper is indicated, this is not quite the question to ask. The chapel royal helps us to further reveal just how seriously Elizabeth held her faith. It's only by drawing from the approaches utilized by historians interested in secular ritual and looking beyond the complaints of hotter Protestant commentators towards the extant source material of a musical literary architectural and prosopographical nature that we might find a clearer picture of the importance that the chapel royal had to the English court of the 16th century.