In January 1531, Henry received word from Pope Clement that he was forbidden to remarry and if he did so, his children would be seen as illegitimate. Further that he forbade ‘any one in England, of ecclesiastical or secular dignity, universities, parliaments, courts of law, &c., to make any decision in an affair the judgment of which is reserved for the Holy See. The whole under pain of excommunication’.10 Henry’s response the following month was to declare himself sole protector and supreme head of the Church of England, in effect snubbing the pope and his authority in England. In the summer, the king and queen were at Windsor Castle when Henry decided he had had enough. He left the castle taking his court with him. Katherine was left behind with just her daughter and her servants. From now on Henry would live openly with Anne. The royal couple would never meet again.
Mary, at home at Westhorpe, must have been shocked when she heard the news and saddened for her friend but worse was to come. Although the Tudor Brandon’s relationship with Anne was shaky, it had never been hostile although Chapuys was convinced ‘Suffolk and his wife, if they dared, would offer all possible resistance to this marriage’.11 Mary had purposely kept away from her and Charles had been courteous and outwardly well-mannered whilst in her presence at court until Anne shockingly accused Charles of incest with his own daughter.
On 17 July, Chapuys wrote ‘to avenge herself on the Duke of Suffolk, who had heretofore made some charge against her honor, the same lady has accused him of having connection with his own daughter. I know not what will follow from it’.12 This harks back to Charles informing the king of Anne’s previous relationship with Thomas Wyatt. But which daughter? In Ives’ biography of Anne Boleyn, he explains ‘Anne exploited Suffolk’s colourful private life to hit back with the allegation that he had an incestuous relationship with his son’s fiancee’,13 referring to Katherine Willoughby, his ward who was betrothed to his son Henry Brandon. She was only twelve at the time of the accusation and had been living in the Suffolk household.
Others have pointed out that the daughter was reported as ‘sa proper fille’ – his proper or natural daughter – which would then mean either Frances or Eleanor Brandon. Eleanor was the same age as Katherine, Frances two years older. Yet there had never been any hint of inappropriateness with his own daughters and they appeared to have a good relationship with their father as they grew older. Katherine featured in Charles’ life in later years and perhaps this is why suspicion lay on their relationship however the key point here is that Anne wanted to ‘avenge herself’. The accusation was a fabrication, born out of spite and malice.
Nothing happened or at least nothing was recorded. If it had have been true, Charles would have surely faced some form of punishment or investigation. We can imagine that both Mary and Charles were furious but whilst Mary stewed away in the countryside, Henry somehow made peace between Anne and Charles. Their relationship continued to be cordial on the surface but the whole situation now made Charles firmly agree with Mary in her opinion of Henry’s choice of woman.
The next year, Mary couldn’t contain herself when she was back at court for a visit. Mary ‘reviled’ Anne to the Venetian ambassador and it seemed to be the cause of an unsavoury incident that then occurred,
One of the chief gentlemen in the service of said Duke of Norfolk, with 20 followers, assaulted and killed in the sanctuary of Westminster Sir William Peninthum (sic) chief gentleman and kinsman of the Duke of Suffolk. In consequence of this, the whole Court was in an uproar, and had the Duke of Suffolk been there, it is supposed that a serious affray would have taken place. On hearing of what had happened, he (Suffolk) was on his way to remove the assailants by force from the sanctuary, when the King sent the Treasurer [Thomas Cromwell] to him, and made him return, and has adjusted the affair; and this turmoil displeased him. It is said to have been caused by a private quarrel, but I am assured it was owing to opprobrious language uttered against Madam Anne by his Majesty’s sister, the Duchess of Suffolk, Queen Dowager of France.14
Richard Southwell, one of the Duke of Norfolk’s men and Sir William Pennington, related to Charles Brandon by marriage, came to blows apparently over their divided loyalties, although later court records would omit that it had anything to do with Mary and Anne Boleyn but was purely a legal dispute. Richard was at the mercy of Sir William when Anthony Southwell, his brother, rushed in and dealt Sir William a fatal blow to the head. In her paper on the case, McSheffrey points out that ‘the situation required, and received, skilful handling in order to remove any discussion of insults to Anne Boleyn from official processes and records and to defuse the potentially incendiary situation between Norfolk and Suffolk’.15
Charles calmed down somewhat after the affair realising that Mary could be in real trouble if she was seen to be the cause of a man’s death by slandering the king’s wife-to-be. Instead of taking the situation any further, he instead took Sir William’s widow into his household and would later include his son in his retinue, making sure they were both provided for. For Mary, it was just more blame to lay at Anne Boleyn’s door. Charles returned home to his wife and Henry rode out to visit them both at Westhorpe in the summer, leaving Anne behind.
But even if Henry was displeased with Anne in any way, she came before his loyalty to his sister and best friend. In September, Henry created her Marquis of Pembroke at a lavish ceremony at Windsor Castle. Anne attended the service dressed like a queen in ermine and velvet. Charles stood with her uncle, the Duke of Norfolk, by Henry’s side but Mary was nowhere to be seen. She refused to witness Anne’s elevation into the nobility using the excuse or perhaps the truth that she was experiencing ill health.
Anne Boleyn’s rise in rank had the purpose of making her a more suitable potential marriage partner and also high enough in status to be introduced to Francis I, King of France. Henry had arranged to meet with Francis a few weeks later whilst Anne was to be greeted by a French lady of high birth, either Queen Eleanor (whom he had married six years after the death of Queen Claude) or the king’s sister, but neither would agree to meet her. Anne was snubbed on both sides of the channel. She was to be accompanied by English ladies of the nobility including Mary but she flatly refused to go as did other ladies. Instead, Henry made Mary and Katherine loan their jewels to Anne so that she at least looked the part on her French sojourn. In the end, Anne only got as far as Calais while Henry rode off with Charles by his side to meet Francis. It was obvious to all that saw her that regardless of what others thought Henry would still make her his queen.
And so Henry and Anne were married in secret on 25 January 1533 at Whitehall Palace. Henry had decided that his marriage to Katherine was invalid no matter what others thought and in any case it was now possible that Anne was pregnant. Still there was no celebration, just a quick ceremony, attended by only a handful of people, not the glorious occasion that perhaps Anne had hoped for.
Not even Charles had been invited to the wedding. Given Mary’s dislike of Henry’s choice of woman and their recent altercations, the couple were kept out of the loop. Mary had been unwell for several months now anyway. She had missed the New Year celebrations at court although she sent her brother gifts of a writing table and a gold whistle. Her illness is evident in the last letter she wrote to Viscount Lisle penned in a shaky hand in March yet she still had the concerns of those in her care at heart, asking that he try to find a place for one of her servants, John Williams, as a soldier in Calais.
The king’s secret lasted until April when Henry told his Privy Council that he had already married his next queen. There had been rumours but this was final confirmation. The council decreed that Katherine should be told at once and Charles Brandon had the unpleasant task of riding out with the Duke of Norfolk to tell her she was no longer Henry’s queen. By now Katherine was living at Ampthill and by all accounts she took the news with good grace, outwardly at least, when the dukes informed her that she would in future be titled as the Princess Dowager of Wales and Henry would no longer continue
to financially support her household. Later she told her chamberlain that she would always call herself queen and her servants were to continue to address her as such. She would believe herself to be Henry’s true wife until the end of her days, regardless of what he thought of her.
In May, Archbishop Thomas Cranmer and the court he had convened for the purpose of looking at the king’s great matter ruled that Henry and Katherine had never been legally married. However, Henry’s marriage to Anne was legal. Now all knew that Anne was to be their new queen and Henry ordered that preparations start for her coronation.
Just before this occasion, the king had a family marriage to attend. Frances Brandon, Mary and Charles’ eldest daughter, married Henry Grey, Marquis of Dorset and a descendant of Elizabeth Woodville, in the chapel at Suffolk Place. Like the Brandon ancestors, the Greys had also been involved in the Buckingham Rebellion of 1483 and Henry VII’s rise to the throne. It was a grand celebration costing Charles £1,666, well attended by all the nobles at court except of course the new queen in deference to Mary. It was a wedding befitting a Tudor daughter and Charles and Mary took great pride in seeing Frances, at the tender age of sixteen, begin her new life.
Mary managed the journey to London for her daughter’s sake but her health was failing. Earlier she had written to Henry ‘I have been very sick and ill at ease, for which I was fain to send for Master Peter the physician for to have holpen me of this disease which I have, howbeit I am rather worse than better, wherefore I trust to come to London with my Lord. For if I should tarry here I should never asperge the sickness (and) I would be glad to see your grace the which I do think long for to do…’16 She could not rid herself of the sickness and Master Peter did not have a cure. Her daughter’s wedding would be the last time she was in London and sadly, the last time she saw her beloved brother. After the wedding Mary returned to Westhorpe with her younger daughter Eleanor and took to her bed, exhausted from her trip to London. Charles visited her, their last meeting, early in May but had to return to the city for Anne’s coronation.
Even if Mary had wanted to attend the coronation on 1 June, which is highly unlikely, she was too ill to travel. Charles instead supported his king and his new queen throughout, escorting Anne to the Great Hall at Westminster the night before her coronation.
On Saturday, about five o’clock in the afternoon, in her royal dresses, which are of the same fashion as those of France, she mounted a litter covered inside and out with white satin. Over her was borne a canopy of cloth of gold. Then followed twelve ladies on hackneys, all clothed in cloth of gold. Next came a chariot covered with the same cloth, and containing only the duchess of Norfolk, step-mother of the Duke, and the Queen’s mother. Next, twelve young ladies on horseback, arrayed in crimson velvet. Next, three gilded coaches, in which were many young ladies; and, lastly, twenty or thirty others on horseback, in black velvet. Around the litter were the duke of Suffolk, that day Constable, and my lord William who was Great Marshal and Great Chamberlain…17
The following day ‘the duke of Suffolk was Grand Master, and constantly stood near the Queen with a large white rod in his hand’18 during the coronation ceremony. For all the hostility that surrounded Anne, on this day, she looked and acted as a queen. The ceremony over, great feasting was held; the food kept coming, the wine flowed and Charles entertained the diners. ‘The duke of Suffolk was gorgeously arrayed with many stones and pearls, and rode up and down the hall and around the tables, upon a courser caparisoned in crimson velvet’.19 The celebrations continued for several days afterwards with jousts and more banquets. Henry spared no expense in showing off his new queen but the atmosphere was subdued. Everyone knew that Katherine of Aragon had been mistreated and put aside and many still believed she was Henry’s true queen.
And now another queen was dying. The once beautiful and vivacious Mary had suffered from sporadic bouts of ill health from her youth but the real cause of her illness was never truly diagnosed. Sometimes it was an ague or fever, sometimes a reoccurrence of a pain in her side that drove her to tears. This pain could be attributed to anything from gall bladder problems to gynaecological issues to kidney disease – given there is very little detail of her illnesses we will never truly know from what Mary suffered. The Spanish Chronicle even attributed her death to her grief over Henry’s great matter ‘When the King left the blessed Queen Katherine, the Queen Dowager of France, wife of the Duke of Suffolk, was so much attached to her that the sight of her brother leaving his wife brought on an illness from which she died’. It was more likely to have been cancer or tuberculosis. There is no indication that any of her family thought she was close to death but she never rallied after her daughter’s wedding and died at Westhorpe on 25 June in her thirty-eighth year.
Mary lay in state in the chapel at Westhorpe for three weeks before her funeral, having been embalmed with pungent oils and spices and placed in a lead coffin. The delay allowed a delegation from France, including a French pursuivant or officer of arms, to attend the funerary arrangements and ensure the ceremony was appropriate for their once queen. Her family and servants kept a vigil all the while over her blue velvet draped coffin surrounded by lit tapers over which mass was said daily. Mary had wanted to be buried locally near to the family home she had loved. While this was being arranged, Henry and Charles attended a requiem mass on 10 July at Westminster Abbey in her honour. It was said to have been conducted as a funeral service without the body. Those who had known and respected Mary were able to attend but otherwise her passing went by almost unnoticed by the court where she had once dazzled and delighted. The Spanish ambassador only commented that now the French king would be richer for not having to pay her dower payments.
In Suffolk, Mary’s real funeral went ahead on 20 July. Six gentlemen carried her coffin from the chapel to a carriage drawn by six horses, decorated with black velvet and embroidered with Tudor roses and French lilies and Mary’s coat of arms. An effigy of Mary as Queen of France, crowned and holding a sceptre, topped the coffin, sitting on a pall of cloth of gold. One hundred torch bearers led the way to the abbey at Bury St Edmunds followed by a clergyman carrying a cross. Knights, nobles and officers of the household preceded the carriage flanked by standard-bearers and surrounded by one hundred of the duke’s yeomen carrying lit tapers. Frances, Mary’s recently married eldest daughter, followed as chief mourner accompanied by her husband and younger brother, Henry. Mary’s step-daughters, the Ladies Powys and Monteagle, Katherine Willoughby and her mother were also chief mourners and they were followed by Mary’s ladies and servants. As the funeral procession covered the sixteen miles to Bury St Edmunds, it was joined by people from the locality who wished to show their respect on her final journey, swelling the funeral procession in their numbers.
At around 2pm, Mary’s coffin was placed in front of the high altar in the abbey and a dirge was sung. The French pursuivant spoke ‘Pray for the soul of the right high excellent princess and right Christian Queen, Mary, late French Queen and all Christian souls.’20 The abbot and monks then led the highest nobles to the refectory for supper whilst others were fed in the grounds. Afterwards eight women, twelve men, thirty yeomen and a number of clerks and priests were appointed to watch over Mary’s coffin throughout the night.
The service proper began with a requiem mass said at 7am the next morning and an oration delivered by William Rugg, the abbot of St Bennet’s abbey in Hulme, Norfolk, and a friend of the family. Mary’s daughters, Frances and Eleanor, offered up palls of cloth of gold but it preceded a strange incident.
When in the Abbey church, these two ladies, preceded by Garter King-at-Arms, each placed a pall of cloth of gold on the coffin of their royal mother; but, to the surprise of everyone, they were instantly followed by their half-sisters, the daughters of the Duke of Suffolk by his repudiated wife, who advanced and made the like splendid offering by each placing a cloth of gold pall on the coffin. The Lady Frances and the Lady Eleanor immediately rose and retired, without tarr
ying the conclusion of the funeral rites.21
As with any funeral, sometimes family rifts become apparent. Although it appears the girls from both of Charles’ marriages had always got on amicably, Mary’s step-daughters obviously wanted their presence felt and the younger girls left, missing the rest of the service. The funeral ended with Mary’s inhumation and her household officers breaking their staffs over her grave. With the service finished, meat and wine were distributed to four places around Bury St Edmunds and each poor person was given four pennies. The funeral party returned to their homes and later an alabaster monument was commissioned to adorn Mary’s tomb. Today, Mary is buried in the neighbouring church of St Mary’s, having been moved around the time of the dissolution of the monasteries.
Mary’s death affected her family and friends in different ways. Some mourned her loss, others hardly noticed her passing as she had so long been away from court. Charles was not at her funeral in Suffolk as custom dictated and we can only surmise that he genuinely missed his wife but he was a man of the times and also a man who had learnt that with women came money and property.
The death of his wife dealt Charles a financial blow. The ambassador, Chapuys, who had coldly reported that King Francis would save on her dower payments was right. Charles would no longer receive Mary’s income from France. Henry helped out by cancelling £1,000 of debt Charles owed to the crown and granted him the income from the vacant bishopric of Ely of around £2,000 a year. Charles released most of Mary’s household saving him further costs. But his most financially astute decision now was one that shocked and appalled his contemporaries and family.
The Tudor Brandons Page 13