by David Loades
All this infighting, however, appears to have left Mary untouched. Even the story of the attack on Catherine, the substance of which was that some on the fringes of the court were burned as heretics, makes no mention of the princess. At this stage of her life her piety was entirely conventional. Like many Christian humanists she approved of the English Bible, and of sermons, and had no particular affection for the shrines and pilgrimages that Henry had abolished. On the now-dissolved monasteries she was silent, and her enthusiasm for the mass was no greater than Henry’s own, who was to ordain 30,000 ‘trentals’ (each trental being a set of 30 requiem masses) for the repose of his soul. Her accounts show dozens of examples of almsgiving, but only a small proportion for the ‘maintenance of God’s service’ and none at all for traditional local pieties. Having, apparently, come to terms with the royal supremacy, she had settled into an orthodoxy which, although conservative, was by no means militantly so – and she wisely steered clear of the partisan politics with which she was surrounded.
From 1543 to 1546 Henry was at war, and in 1544 he campaigned in person for the last time. The object of his intentions was Boulogne, and the campaign was eventually successful, but given the king’s age and health it was a risky venture. Catherine was named as regent during his absence, and the Parliament that ended in March 1544 again took order for the succession. The Act of 1536, which was still in force, had bastardised both daughters, and settled the crown on any son who might be born to Queen Jane. Edward was therefore the undoubted heir, but what happened if he should die childless? To cope with such an eventuality, the new Act settled the succession first on Mary and the heirs of her body ‘lawfully begotten’, and then upon Elizabeth. In the remote contingency of all Henry’s children dying without issue, the crown was to pass to the descendants of his younger sister, also named Mary, who had died in 1533.[95] This Mary had married, and had had children by Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, the surviving one in 1544 being Frances Grey, the wife of Henry Grey, Marquis of Dorset. The children of Henry’s older sister, Margaret, represented in 1544 by the infant Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, were totally ignored. The Act also empowered Henry to alter this order, if he thought fit, by his last will and testament, but in spite of this, it was as complete a statement of ‘constitutional’ engineering as could well be imagined. It was determined neither by legitimacy, nor by hereditary right, but by the will of Parliament. Despite being named as heirs to the throne, neither Mary nor Elizabeth was legitimated, and Frances Grey was preferred to Mary Stuart. Chapuys did not know what to make of this. In a sense it gave the Emperor what he wanted – Mary was now in the order of succession – but it had been done in a fashion that he simply could not comprehend; and in any case a statute could always be repealed. Furthermore, Henry’s preoccupation with Boulogne cost him the Emperor’s good will, and almost as soon as the town was taken Charles made a separate peace with France at Crespy, leaving Henry to defend his conquest as best he could.[96] The war continued for another eighteen months – but that is not really part of this story.
1. Mary from a group portrait of Henry VIII and his family, painted in about 1545. The female figure in the background is supposed to be her jester, Jane the Fool.
2. Princess Elizabeth from the same family group, aged about ten. The figure in the background is supposed to be Henry’s jester, Will Somers.
3. Princess Elizabeth at about the time of her father’s death, aged twelve. By an unknown artist, in the Royal Collection.
4. Edward VI from the same family group as illustrations 1 and 2.
5. Holbein’s design for a jewelled pendant for Mary, probably executed during his first visit to England in 1527–8, when Mary was still the king’s heir.
6. Margaret Tudor, Mary’s aunt. She married James IV of Scotland, and after his death at Flodden in 1513, remarried Archibald, Earl of Angus. She was the grandmother of Mary, Queen of Scots. From a drawing by an unknown artist.
7. Lady Jane Dudley (Grey). Put up by Edward as an alternative to Mary for the succession, she was defeated in July 1553, and executed after the Wyatt rising in February 1554, at the age of seventeen.
8. Edward’s ‘Device’ for the succession, naming Jane Grey as his heir. The document is in the king’s hand throughout, except for the amendments, which make all the difference to its meaning.
9. A page from Edward VI’s journal, for 18 March 1551, in which he refers to Mary and his dispute with her over the mass.
10. A later pastiche of Henry VIII and Mary, based on portraits by Holbein and Hans Eworth. The figure in the background is again Will Somers.
11. Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, in 1546. A painting by Gerhard Flicke in the National Portrait Gallery.
12. Mary at the age of twenty-eight (in 1543), by the sergeant painter known as ‘Master John’. In the National Portrait Gallery.
13. Thomas Wolsey, Cardinal Archbishop of York and Lord Chancellor. A drawing by Jacques le Boucq in the Bibilotheque d’Arras.
14. Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester and Mary’s Lord Chancellor, by an unknown artist.
15. John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, by Hans Holbein. A fierce defender of Catherine’s marriage and of Mary’s legitimacy, he was executed by the king for treason in 1535.
16. A cartoon of Thomas More and his family, executed in 1527–8. A painting based on this cartoon was made by Rowland Lockey in 1593, and is now in the National Portrait Gallery.
17. An allegorical representation of the betrothal of Mary to the Duke of Orléans, the second son of Francis I of France, in 1527.
18. Third Succession Act (35 Henry VIII, c. 1), 1544. This was the act which designated Mary and Elizabeth to follow Edward if he should die without heirs, and broke new ground in that it authorised the succession of illegitimate children.
19. A nineteenth-century representation of Mary entering London on 3 August 1553, having successfully overcome the challenge of Jane Grey. The kneeling figures are Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk and Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester. The third figure, concealed by Norfolk, is Edward Courtenay, the son of the Marquis of Exeter, who was released on the same day.
20. A plan of Charing Cross from the ‘Ralph Agas’ map. After a brief skirmish at the Cross on 7 February 1554, Wyatt led his force down the Strand and Fleet Street, only to find the gate of the City held against him.
21. Mary’s instructions to John Russell, Earl of Bedford, sent to Spain in June 1555 to escort Prince Philip to England for his wedding. He is to brief Philip about the affairs of the kingdom.
22. Philip II as King of Spain, from a contemporary miniature.
23. The reverse of the Great Seal of Philip and Mary, used for the authentication of important documents in both their names.
24. An equestrian portrait of Philip II.
25. Obverse side of the Great Seal.
26. Passport for Richard Shelley to go into Spain, signed by both Philip and Mary. Shelley’s mission was to have been to announce the safe arrival of Queen Mary’s son, so the passport remained unused.
27. The charter of Philip and Mary confirming the foundation of Trinity College, Oxford, by Sir Thomas Pope, dated 28 March 1555. The ornate capital shows both sovereigns enthroned.
28. The title page of John Foxe’s Ecclesiastical History, better known as the Acts and Monuments of the English Martyrs. This was a revised and expanded version of the work originally published by John Day in 1563.
29. The burning of Thomas Tompkyns, from the 1570 edition of the Acts and Monuments. The same woodcut was used for a number of victims.
30. The burning of John Hooper at Gloucester on 9 February 1555. Hooper, who was former Bishop of Gloucester, was burned on a slow fire. He was one of the first victims to suffer.
31. ‘The cruel burning of George Marsh’. Marsh was supposed to have been soaked in tar to make him burn more fiercely. From the 1570 A & M.
32. The burning of Ridley and Latimer at Oxford on 16 October 1555. The sermon w
as preached by Richard Smith, who had been driven from his Regius Chair in Edward’s time for his Catholic beliefs.
33. The burning of John Rogers on 4 February 1555. Rogers was the first Protestant to be burned, and the example of his courage inspired many to follow him. From the 1570 edition of the A & M.
34. The burning of Margery Polley. A number of Foxe’s martyrs were women, and he emphasises how the Holy Spirit helped them to overcome their natural ‘imbecility’.
35. The burning of Rowland Taylor. Taylor was taken down to Hadley to suffer where he had ministered, with the intention of making an example of him. The evidence suggests that this did not work.
36. The burning of Margaret Thurston and Agnes Bongeor at Colchester. Essex was a strong centre of Protestantism in Mary’s reign, and a number of men and women deliberately provoked the authorities to act against them.
37. The racking of Cuthbert Simpson. The use of torture on the victims was unusual, but Simpson was the deacon of the London congregation, and he was racked (unsuccessfully) to make him reveal their names.
38. ‘Strait handling’ was more common, as this reconstruction of the ordeal of prisoners in the Lollards’ Tower at Lambeth makes plain.
39. An account of the disputation held at Oxford in April 1554. This extract is from the exchanges between Hugh Latimer and Richard Smith, with Dr Weston as Prolocutor. It was from this manuscript that Foxe printed his version.
40. A lively depiction of the burning of Thomas Haukes in June 1555. Haukes was one of the few gentlemen to suffer during the persecution. Most Protestants of that status fled abroad.
41. One of the most appalling atrocities of the persecution was the burning of a pregnant Margaret Cauches on Guernsey. The hapless woman gave birth in the flames, and her infant perished as well. An enquiry was launched under Elizabeth, from which most of our knowledge of the incident is derived.
42. The burning of Thomas Tompkyns’ hand by Bishop Bonner. This example of Bonner’s alleged cruelty was a part of Foxe’s campaign against the bishop. Whether the incident actually occurred is uncertain.
43. Richmond Palace.
44. Calais and its harbour, from a sixteenth-century drawing. It was the loss of Rysbank (the tower in the middle of the picture) which sealed the fate of Calais during its capture by the French in January 1558.
45. Hampton Court, acquired by Henry in 1525, and subsequently much rebuilt. Edward VI was born there in September 1537.
HENRY REARRANGES THE SUCCESSION, 1544
His Majestie therefore thinketh convenient afore his departure beyond the seas that it be enacted by his Highness with the assent of the lords spiritual and temporal and the commons in this present parliament assembled and by authority of the same, and therefore be it enacted by the authority aforesaid that in case it shall happen that the King’s Majesty and the said excellent Prince his yet only son Prince Edward and heir apparent to decease without heir or either of their bodies lawfully begotten (as God defend) so that there be no such heir male or female of any of their two bodies to have and inherit the said Imperial Crown and other his dominions according and in such manner and form as in the foresaid Act and now in this is declared. That then the said Imperial Crown and all other the premises shall be to the Lady Mary the King’s Highness daughter and to the heirs of the said Lady Mary lawfully begotten, with such condition as by his Highness shall be limited by his Letters Patent under his Great Seal or by his Majesty’s last will in writing signed with his gracious hand; and for default of such issue the said Crown Imperial and all other the premises shall be to the Lady Elizabeth the king’s second daughter and to the heirs of the said Lady Elizabeth lawfully begotten, with such conditions as by his Highness shall be limited by his Letters Patent under his Great Seal or by his Majesty’s last will in writing signed with his gracious hand. Anything in the said Act made in the said 28th year of our said Sovereign Lord to the contrary of this Act notwithstanding …
[Statute 35 Henry VIII, cap. 1. Statutes of the Realm, iii, p. 955.]
Mary’s role in all this was her marriage potential, and she was deployed as circumstances required, now to the Imperialists, now to the French; sometimes with her legitimacy negotiable, sometimes not.[97] The only one of these suitors whom she actually saw was Duke Philip of Bavaria, the son of the Elector Palatine. Philip was not an official candidate, and appears to have been acting on his own initiative. He arrived in England just before Christmas 1539, offering his military services to the King of England and asking for Mary’s hand in marriage. Either charmed by his knight-errantry or dazzled by his effrontery, Henry allowed a negotiation to take place. As this was a private venture, Cromwell immediately sent a message to Mary to ascertain her feelings. Philip was a Lutheran, and her response was that she would ‘prefer never to enter into that kind of religion’. Nevertheless, she would do as her father wished. On 26 December, while Mary was at court for Christmas, they met in the gardens of the Abbot of Westminster. The only account we have of their encounter comes from Marillac, the French ambassador, who must have got it from one of Mary’s attendants. The duke had actually ventured to kiss her! This must mean marriage, Marillac concluded, because he was no kin, and no English nobleman would have dared so to presume.[98] They conversed partly in Latin and partly in German (the latter through an interpreter), and as they parted he swore that he would make her his wife. Mary responded prosaically that she would do as her father should determine. It must have been a chilly tryst and was not, on her part, very romantic; but it was the nearest thing to real courtship that she was ever to experience. Marillac expected a marriage within weeks, and indeed a treaty was drawn up, whereby Philip would have accepted her as incapable of succession, and with a modest dowry, but it was never implemented. Henry probably decided that he could not afford to lose so useful a diplomatic instrument so easily, and within a month Philip had departed, a disappointed man.
He did not give up easily though. In the spring of 1540 he wrote to renew his suit, but his letter went astray in the confusion that preceded Cromwell’s fall, and he had to be satisfied with the Order of the Garter. He came to England again in May 1543, with the same military and matrimonial agenda, but he did not see Mary; he departed with a gift, but no other satisfaction. In March 1546 Philip did finally obtain a contract to supply 10,000 foot soldiers and 1,000 horsemen, and also another interview with Mary, although nothing is known about this encounter. Finally, in September of the same year he came in response to Henry’s initiative, and the old speculation of a marriage was immediately renewed. However, this time he was an emissary for his father, and the negotiation came to nothing.
Whether Mary ever had any inclination to marry Philip, we do not know, but by 1546 she was thirty and her unmarried state was becoming something of an anomaly, even a scandal. In spite of what she had earlier said to Chapuys, there are signs that Mary herself was beginning to feel this. She is alleged to have said that as long as her father lived ‘she would be only the Lady Mary, and the most unhappy Lady in Christendom’.[99] She seems to have been convinced that none of the numerous negotiations that had been entered into on her behalf was sincerely meant, and she may have been right. She had been brought up to regard her chastity as a very precious asset, and had been denied, or had denied herself, all the flirtations that normally accompany the process of growing up. In spite of all frustrations, however, she never showed any sign of wanting to withdraw from the world. Legitimate or not, royalty was her birthright, and that meant, at some stage, a royal marriage, so she had little option but to wait and hope.
At this stage of her life, Mary is something of an enigma. Her virtue and godliness were praised by conservatives and reformers alike, but in spite of her excellent education, and the extent to which improving works of piety and theology had been pressed upon her, we know very little about her theological opinions. In public she was the king’s obedient daughter, but in private it seems likely that, while she was strictly Catholic on such theolog
ical matters as transubstantiation and justification, she sympathised with the reformers on their desire for vernacular scripture, and she regarded religious orders with indifference. Whether she had any intellectual, as opposed to emotional, convictions we do not know. If she had they were probably rather similar to those that her cousin Reginald Pole tried unsuccessfully to defend at the Council of Trent, which met for the first time in 1545.[100]
The more strictly puritanical on both sides of the religious divide regarded Mary with suspicion. She loved jewellery and fine clothes, tastes that her father was happy to indulge, but which argued frivolity in their eyes. She also gambled compulsively, usually for small stakes, and accumulated debts of hundreds of pounds, not because she was especially unlucky but simply because of the frequency with which she bet. The accounts do not record her winnings, so we do not know how successful she was. She continued to enjoy music, and added playing the lute to her earlier accomplishment on the virginals, employing Philip van Wilder to improve her technique. She danced with great enthusiasm, and that offended the reformers who regarded such activities (rather ironically in her case) as encouraging ‘carnal lust’. In May 1546 one of Prince Edward’s more austere tutors encouraged the eight-year-old boy to send an admonition (in Latin, of course) to Queen Catherine, asking her to beg his dear sister Mary ‘to attend no longer to foreign dances and merriments, which do not become a most Christian Princess’.[101] It is to be hoped that the queen was in a position to ignore such an unsympathetic message. More appropriate in Prince Edward’s eyes was no doubt her renewed taste for hunting, which caused Henry on one occasion to send her a present of arrows, and inspired her to walk several miles a day, which must have been beneficial both to her health and to her spirits.