by David Loades
… in our state it shall miscontent us to permit you, so great a subject, not to keep our laws. Your nearness to us in blood, your greatness in estate [and] the condition of this time, maketh your fault the greater.[145]
The threat was implied rather than explicit, but it landed a heavy punch. Mary’s case had always rested upon the assertion that she was dealing with ministers, and that the king (‘that tender lamb’), even if he knew what was being done in his name, was far too young to appreciate it. When he came to full years, he might command her, but not before. Now for the first time she was faced with unequivocal proof – the letter was written partly in his own hand – that she was likely to find the adult Edward as uncongenial as his minority council.
Mary was deeply distressed by this prospect, so much so that (according to her own account) she became too ill to write a full reply. The conflict that now developed was not about jurisdiction, or about the definition of the king’s power, but about faith. To Mary the mass and its traditional accompaniments represented true religion, which no one had any right to alter. She had supported her father’s supremacy, not because she believed that he was right, but because he had safeguarded these fundamentals. If Edward would do the same she would obey him, but if not, not. To Edward, on the other hand, the mass was blasphemous idolatry – an abuse of the word of God – and his father had been woefully misled. Between these two iron-shod positions of conscience no compromise was possible, and if Edward had lived to achieve his majority his sister might well have found herself in prison. Meanwhile, she ceased to profess her willingness to obey him when he came of age, but continued, as best she could, to take refuge behind the circumstances of his minority.
Meanwhile, the council continued to parade its routine arguments. Her immunity covered only herself and her chamber servants, not her household at large, and certainly not anyone else. In response she tried to take refuge in implying that the king’s words were not really his own, and even that he had no authority at all. She was wisely warned off this line of argument by Scheyfve, who saw that it could be construed as treason, but it is a measure of her disturbed state of mind that she even contemplated it.[146] Inevitably, Scheyfve was soon as embroiled in this dispute as Van der Delft or Chapuys had been before. He helped her to write her letters (or thought that he did) and made endless and tedious protests to the council about the way in which she was being treated.
However, the situation was not entirely static. The Earl of Warwick now became prone to say that he and his colleagues were only doing the king’s bidding, and he pointed out meaningfully that whereas the ambassador enjoyed a licence to have mass said in his residence in London, no similar indulgence was extended to Sir Thomas Chamberlain, the English ambassador, in Brussels. Indeed an application for such had been treated with insulting contempt. The atmosphere became decidedly tense, but neither side wanted to be responsible for breaking off relations, and so the standoff continued.
On 15 March 1551 Mary was summoned to see her brother, an order that she could not possibly ignore. She made a grand entry to London, her entourage displaying rosaries and other symbols of the old faith, and told the king flatly that her faith was not to be constrained. He replied with equal candour that he was not interested in her faith, but only in her behaviour, and that disobedience to his laws would not be tolerated.[147] One or two of her gentleman servants were imprisoned, and her officers were summoned before the council and ordered on their allegiance to secure her conformity. Even if they had been willing there was no way in which they could have achieved that – and in any case they were not willing.
There were rumours that conservative nobles were conspiring on Mary’s behalf, and at the end of March a crisis seemed to be about to break. However, at the last moment both sides backed off. Cranmer and Nicholas Ridley, Bishop of London, advised the council that although to license sin was also sinful, ‘to suffer and wink … for a time might be borne’. At the same time the Emperor, casting an anxious eye over his deteriorating relations with France, decided that he would postpone making an enemy of the English, and instructed Scheyfve that he should advise the princess to be satisfied with her private licence, and not to press for public concessions.[148]
This damped down the fire for a few months, but at the beginning of August it sprang up brightly again – not this time through any action of Mary’s, but because the Earl of Warwick had decided to grasp the nettle. At that point the Emperor was clearly hamstrung by the threat of renewed war with France, and Warwick (who had been lord president of the council since February 1550, but declined to take the title of protector) decided that the time had come to take issue with his conservative opponents.[149] The Duke of Somerset, unreconciled to his own marginalisation, had apparently been conspiring with them, and Mary’s household was increasing in importance as a symbolic focus of resistance. Moreover the young king was becoming steadily more querulous about this blot on the godliness of his government. It was necessary to destroy such a centre of defiance, and on 9 August the council decided to withdraw the princess’s mass licence altogether. At the same time they threatened Scheyfve with the termination of his own licence, because Chamberlain had again been refused a reciprocal arrangement in the Low Countries.
On 14 August Rochester, Englefield and Waldegrave were again summoned before the council and ordered to convey the unwelcome tidings to Mary. She refused to listen, and instead sent her officers back to London with a personal letter to the king. In addition to repeating a number of familiar arguments, this made it clear that she simply refused to acknowledge any issue of law or public authority in the dispute. It was a quarrel between her private conscience and the private consciences of the Earl of Warwick and his cronies. What was in her eyes a bad law was no law at all, and there was no duty to obey it.[150] When they refused to act as the council’s messengers a second time, the officers were imprisoned for contempt. That was the easy bit. Policing Mary’s household while leaving her at liberty was an altogether more challenging prospect, and since the council had no desire to provoke another conservative demonstration by summoning her to London, they sent a commission to visit her at Copthall.
This mission, which consisted of the lord chancellor, Lord Rich, Sir Anthony Wingfield and Sir William Petre, arrived on 29 August. The king’s patience, they declared, was exhausted, and henceforth no service might be said in any of her houses other than that authorised by law. Mary, while making a great show of humility when presented with Edward’s letters, treated his representatives with contempt. They had, she said, no valid authority for their actions, and most of them were simply her father’s creatures.[151] In a sense that was true, but their authority was as great as that of any minority government could be – and her assertion was both perilous and untrue. It had been foolish, she went on, to seek to control her through her officers, when those were of her own free choosing. Moreover, it was ridiculous to represent the king as being old enough to make decisions in matters of religion, while denying it in respect of the government in general.
So far the honours had been about even, but the princess then turned from reason to histrionics. She would report them to the Emperor’s ambassador. ‘I am sickly,’ she went on, ‘and yet will not die willingly … but if I chance to die I will protest openly that you of the council be the causes of my death …’ They gave her fair words, but their deeds were unfriendly. She wanted her officers back, because she had never been brought up to count loaves, and so on. As they rode away, having accomplished nothing, she leaned out of her window and shouted after them, ‘I pray God to send you to do well in your souls and bodies, for some of you have but weak bodies ...’ It had been a performance of great panache, but little dignity, and the councillors might well have wondered whether they were dealing with a madwoman.[152]
A VISIT FROM THE COUNCIL, 1551
A NOTE OF THE REPORTE OF THE MESSAGE DONE TO THE LADYE MARYES GRACE BY US, THE LORD RICHE LORD CHANCELLOR, SIR ANTHONY WINGFELD, KNIGHT
[COMPTROLLER OF THE HOUSEHOLD] AND SIR WILLIAM PETER, KNIGHT [PRINCIPAL SECRETARY] AND OF HER GRACE’s AUNSWERS TO THE SAME … THE XXIXTH OF AUGUST 1551.
First, having received commaundement and instruccions from the Kinges Majestie, we repaired to the sayd Lady Maryes howse at Copthall in Essex on Fryday laste, being the xxviiith of this instant, in the morning, where shortly after our cummyng, I the Lord Chauncellor, delyvred his majesties lettres unto her, whiche she received upon her knees, saying for thonour of the Kinges Majesties hand wherewith the said lettres were signed she would kysse the lettre and not for the mattier conteyned in them, for the mattier (sayed she) I take to procede not from his Majestie but from you of the Counsell.
In the reading of the lettre, which she did rede secretely to her self, she sayd thies wordes in our hearing, Ah! Good master Cecyll tooke muche payne here.’
When she had red the lettres we began to open the mattier of our instruccions unto her, and as I, the Lorde Chauncellor, began, she prayed me to be shorte, for (sayed she) I am not well at easse, and I will make you a short aunswer, notwithstanding that I have alredy declared and wrytten my mynde to his Majestie playnely with myn owne hande...
We tolde her further that the Kinges Majesties pleasure was we shuld also gyve strayte charge to her chaplains that none of them shuld presume to say any Masse or other Devyne Servyce then is sett forthe by the laves of the realme ... Hereunto her aunswer was this; first she protested that to the Kinges Majestie she was, ys and ever wolbe his Majesties moste humble and moste obedient subject and poore sister, and wold most willingly obey all his commaundementes in any thing (her conscyence saved); yea and would willingly and gladly suffer death to do his Majestie good, but rather than she will agre to use any other servyce than was used at the death of the late King her father, she would laye her hed on a block and suffer death; but (sayed she) I am unworthy to suffer death in so good a quarrel. When the Kinges Majestie (sayed she) shall come to such yeres that he may be able to judge thies thinges himself, hys Majestie shall fynde me redy to obey his orders in religion; but now in thies yeres, although he, good swete King, have more knowledge then any other of his yeres, yet it is not possible that he can be a judge in thies thinges... The payne of your lawes is but emprysonnment for a short tyme, and if they will refuse to saye Masse for feare of that emprisonnment, they may do therein as they will; but none of your nue Service (said she) shalbe used in my howse, and if any be sayd in it, I woll not tary in the howse ...
After this we opened the kinges majesties pleasure for oone to attende upon her grace for the supply of Rochester’s place during his absence, & as in thinstruccions. To this her aunswer was that she would appointe her own officers, and that she had yeres suffcyent for that purpose; and if we lefte any suche man there she would go out of her gates, for they two would not dwell in one howse. And (quoth she) I am sickly, and yet I will not dye willingly, but will do the best I can to preserve my life; but if I shall chaunce to dye I will protest openly that you of the Councell be the causes of my death. You gyve me fayre wordes, but your dedes be always ill towards me …
Fynally, when we had sayd and done as ys aforesaid and were goone out of the howse, tarrying there for one of her chaplaynes who was not with the rest when we gave the charge aforesaid unto them, the Ladye Maryes Grace sent to us to speake with her one worde at a wyndowe. When we were comme into the courte, notwithstanding that we offred to come upp to her chamber, she would nedes speake out of the wyndowe, and prayed us to speake to the Lordes of the Councell that her Comptroller might shortly returne; for, sayd she, sythens his departing I take thaccoumpte myself of my expenses and learne how many loves of brede be made of a bushel of whete, and ywys* my father and my mother never brought me up with baking and bruyng, and to be playne with you, I am wery with myne office … And I pray God to send you to do well in your sowles and bodies to, for somme of you have but weake bodyes …’
[Acts of the Privy Council, III, pp. 348-52. Original TNA PC2.]
* ywys = I think.
Mary’s officers remained in prison until the spring of the following year, so presumably she learned to count loaves – and other things. But in a sense her performance achieved its objective. The ban on her household mass was never lifted – but neither was it enforced. Scheyfve made his ritual protest on 4 September and was told that the king insisted upon obedience, and would in no wise change his mind. However, having learned some discretion, in practice Mary went on having mass celebrated in her closet and in the presence of a few of her ladies, and this pragmatic stalemate lasted for the remainder of the reign – a matter of nearly two years.
By the autumn of 1551 the council had probably decided that, short of imprisoning her, there was nothing more that they could do about this obstinate woman, and that it was better to tolerate a low-profile nonconformity than to stir up further international trouble. However, by failing to enforce a full submission they had left her credibility intact, and paradoxically that spelt a new danger when Franco-Imperial hostilities were renewed in October. Charles had always been reluctant to go beyond words in using Mary against her brother’s government, but the Emperor’s health was now poor and control of policy was coming increasingly to rest with Mary of Hungary and with his chief minister, Antoine Perrenot, Bishop of Arras. Mary of Hungary took English support for France in the new conflict for granted, but was absolutely contemptuous of England’s military capability, and planned to use her namesake as a means of taking England out altogether. There is no reason to suppose that the princess was in any way a party to these plans, and we have no means of knowing what her attitude might have been. Writing to the bishop on 5 October, Mary of Hungary pointed out what an immense advantage it would be to have one or more English harbours at their disposal, and went on:
Many people are of the opinion that the kingdom of England would not be impossible to conquer, especially now that it is a prey to discord and poverty. It seems that there are three persons who might try their fortune, conquer the country and marry our cousin …[153]
A pretext for intervention would be easy to find. ‘Taking the king out of the hands of his pernicious governors … [or] of avenging him, or some other excuse easily to be devised …’ The three gallants in question were the Archduke Ferdinand (Charles’ nephew), Dom Luis of Portugal (brother of the king), and the Duke of Holstein (brother of the King of Denmark). Mary was both a bait and a pretext – in fact no more than a pawn. Mary of Hungary had no particular sympathy with her predicament. If she were finally deprived of her mass altogether ‘she will be obliged to put up with it. She has no means to resist, and would be a victim of force, so that she would be blameless in God’s sight …’[154] Charles, although he had never done anything very tangible to help, had at least taken Mary’s conscientious scruples seriously – as they deserved. This extremely cynical plan was never implemented, perhaps because England’s capacity to resist was reappraised, or perhaps because the Emperor vetoed it. But it does serve to emphasise what a dangerous person Mary had become, in spite of the fact that she made no move to destabilise the government, nor offered any encouragement to those who did.
The Earl of Warwick had in any case no intention of supporting France in the new war. His policy was one of disengagement. He had given up the English position in Scotland, and surrendered Boulogne, specifically to be able to concentrate on the difficult tasks of domestic government and retrenchment. Apart from his dealings with Mary, he was reasonably successful. The crown’s debts were reduced, and in spite of continuing tensions there were no repetitions of the rebellious outbreaks of 1549. At the end of October Mary was invited to court to meet Mary of Guise, the Queen Dowager of Scotland, who was returning overland from France. She declined, on the grounds of her ‘constant ill health, which at present is worse than usual’, but admitted privately that the real reason was that she would not be able to hear mass if she was at court. Interestingly, when he heard of this the Emperor admonished her that it would be better
to attend when invited, and she replied that she would go after Christmas as usual, but would refrain from contaminating herself with the rites of the Chapel Royal.[155] Mary continued to allege that her chaplains were being harassed, and in January both she and Scheyfve made ritual protests, but the impression given is that of force of habit rather than of any new or specific grievance.
In November 1551 the Earl of Warwick had himself created Duke of Northumberland, and the timing of this may have been significant. Edward had turned fourteen on 12 October, and this represented in some contexts a coming of age.[156] The king would not achieve his actual majority until he was eighteen, but Warwick was anxious to bring him into the political process as soon and as fully as possible. Apart from anything else, Edward was being very carefully educated for his future responsibilities, and only he stood any chance of prevailing over his sister. Warwick was carefully preparing himself for the day when he would step aside as regent and become instead the trusted first minister of an adult king. The enhancement of rank has to be seen in that context.