Within the hour of 7 A.M., Cromwell brought all the Bills of Attainder. Once they were signed, Henry summoned the head Yeoman, William Forsthgate into his chambers and ordered him to carry out his duty by arresting the Lady Mary for treason in aiding the rebels. In accordance with the Queen’s wishes, Rochford, knowing full well that Mary would be arrested within the morning hours, got to Forsthgate and gave him Mary’s chalice from her father to place in her cell at the time of her arrest along with 50 ducats for his charge to keep the matter discreet. Back in his own chambers now, the King signed the Attainder for Mary and further ordered the arrest of Robert Aske, Lord Dacre and Robert Constable for their parts in leading the rebellion in treason against the crown. Henry spent the rest of the day out riding, without notifying anyone but some close servants who would accompany and attend him. Forsthgate would be the man responsible for seeing the Lady Mary to her cell in the Tower. As Lady Mary lay sleeping, the Yeoman barged into her chamber and ordered her awake, whereupon Forsthgate read out the list of charges against her.
Dropping to her knees immediately, confused and half asleep, she begged to speak to her father the King and pronounced her innocence repeatedly. She prayed to God and begged the guards to let her explain that she was not guilty. She became hysterical and began shouting that she was no traitor, she was the most honorable and humble of the King’s servants and never had she betrayed his majesty. The pleas went unanswered. Legend has it that her screams for mercy can still be heard in the morning hour, passing the west side of the manor, where the remains of her chamber stand today.
Rochford delivered breakfast to Anne around 9 A.M. that morning to review the events as they were unfolding. They both were pleased; all of their political enemies were falling according to plan, at least for the time being. Her pregnancy was progressing relatively well, although in the past few days she had been experiencing mild cramps and spotting, which her midwife assured her was normal, but she worried regardless. Anne had always been known for her anxiety. Even when things were going her way, she could not help but worry about the most trivial matters. She shared her concerns with her father about the baby, but he managed to cheer her up by telling her that both the rebel leaders and the Lady Mary would soon be put to death, and she would never again have to worry about the threat they posed to either herself or her heirs. Lord Rochford ordered ale to celebrate. After the celebratory ale, Anne’s father left her to attend the Lady Mary’s interrogation and, as he put it, “allow her to hang herself,” kissing her forehead before going. Anne and her ladies-in-waiting did needlepoint the day of Mary’s arrest and finished several quilts for the children of the orphanage.
Lord Rochford headed straight to the tower, arriving shortly after 11 A.M. to find a devastated, confused, and despondent Lady Mary pacing back and forth in her cell. Her golden chalice lay on its side in the corner, as if it had been thrown. This was not what he had expected. He expected to greet the epitome of coldness; she had always shown the utmost class, dignity, and an almost cruel grace that bordered on snobbery. This Lady Mary was hysterical, crying, and still genuinely confused, yet warm. She had no clue why she had been arrested, proclaimed her innocence repeatedly to Rochford, and begged to know what she had been accused of. After all the harm the King had done to his own daughter, he would not even allow her the dignity of knowing her own charges, beyond being a traitor to the crown and in collusion with the rebel forces. Rochford even went one step further to say that she was the sole motivation behind their entire rebellion, encouraging them and inspiring them to remain strong despite their difficulties until she was restored to her true place. Rochford also accused her—falsely; she insisted—of attempting to poison the Princess Elizabeth while she was at Hatfield serving as her attendant. This was a completely baseless accusation, but anything he could say to make Mary even more of a wreck he enjoyed.
During the interrogation, due to her fragile mental state, Mary denied everything and gave away little of value to him, even after the threat of torture. She did know that at least this accusation was a complete lie. Women of Mary’s status, and generally all women, were immune from torture in the 16th century, to protect their fragility. Considering her status as a Lady, she was placed in rather common confinements, a stark reminder of her loss of royal prestige. After several hours of repeating the same questions with no hope of solid answers, Rochford left, satisfied in the knowledge that it would only be a matter of days before this hysterical lady would be dead.
Cromwell showed up as Rochford was leaving. The two exchanged only minor banter to relay that Mary was too emotionally fragile to get any useful information out of; Rochford wished Cromwell better luck. And so it was that on December 27th, 1536, Cromwell formally read the Lady Mary all the charges against her. Like Rochford, the minister would leave with nothing but a headache from Mary’s hysteria; he notified her that she was to be tried in the “Star Chamber”—a special, secret court established to prosecute the powerful—in the early hours of December 29th, 1536, once the court had returned from a holiday break. As a final request, she asked that a cross be placed with her so that she may pray for mercy; the minister acknowledged that request, and after that evening’s supper, the Tower Constable, Sir William Kingston, brought it to her and even prayed with her.
That evening, Cromwell chronicled in private dispatches to his wife that he had never before seen his majesty in such a strange state. First the King hunted alone all day, returning only late at night, demonstrating incredible rage, then intense grieving, and at times sullenness with no speech, as if his renegade daughter were already dead. The Queen did much to reinforce his conscience during these troubling times and proved a great comfort to him. She reminded Henry of Mary’s refusal to take the oath until threatened with death, and warned that Mary, like her mother, would do everything in her power as she grew older to take power from him and his future heir, the Prince. Unlike her manner with Henry during the Brandon affair, she fully manipulated her husband over Mary.
Although Queen Anne hated Mary, she was still his daughter and Anne had to reinforce that his own flesh meant to cause him harm and actually take his place on the throne, even replacing his true divinely appointed heir. This continuous reinforcement was mistaken by Henry for genuine affection, when in reality it was a shrewd political play by an advanced player of the game. Anne knew full well what she was doing, and she would not cease her manipulative tactics until the Lady Mary’s blood spilled from the scaffold and she was dead. To some extent it can be reasoned that, although Henry reacted out of sheer emotion to have his daughter arrested and tried, it was Anne who was taking pleasure for being indirectly responsible for Mary’s plight.
The truth is that Mary’s own treasonous actions are what resulted in her arrest and trial. She was well aware of the law, and of the rebellion, and she knew full well that communicating in any way with the rebels would be viewed by her father as treason, even if she may have viewed her words as inherently harmless. Henry had a choice of whether to keep Mary alive or kill her, but after several failed attempts at a real heir, now that he finally had a Prince, his own dynasty was at stake by allowing Mary to live. It was both a combination of Mary’s own treasonous actions and Henry’s succession fears that brought about her downfall.
As much as Anne’s supporters would have loved to have her and her faction alone take credit for this momentous act, the truth is that it was not just her. She just helped speed Mary towards her ultimate end. Her final warning to Henry was what put him over the edge. She warned that if he should let Mary live it would only further inspire her supporters to free her and lead a rebellion to his majesty’s very door, until all of their own heads were posted on spikes in London, including that of the Prince. With that, Henry made the decision to execute his own daughter. The court had not yet even been informed of her arrest. Cromwell, previously a man without high regard for faith, felt a mix of both sadness and guilt for his feelin
gs of joy at Mary’s situation.
The entire week of Mary’s ordeal was somber for Henry. While the court had just thoroughly enjoyed the feasting and entertainments of the Christmastide celebrations, they were also painfully aware that a rebellion was still being waged and Henry’s first child was considered a co-conspirator in the overthrow of the new Tudor heir. Both Henry and Anne were preoccupied with how both of those issues would play out. After a few days, Henry’s conscience would grow even more genuinely stricken that he, who had fathered her, should now be he who condemned her to death. This trial was the first true test of her new status. If Henry honestly believed, as he had previously proclaimed to all who would hear him, that Mary was a bastard, could he now treat her as he might any such maid and put her to death so easily? Anne reassured him that he was pursuing the divine course of providence and that his judgments came directly from God. This play on his ego worked well, and within a few hours, his conscience had made a miraculous recovery to his original thought. Henry thanked Anne for her consolation and remarked in front of several servants who took down the words, “how blessed am I to have one such as you!”
When the Star Chamber jurists returned from holiday on the morning of December 29th, the first case to be heard was that of the Lady Mary. Most of the court, and certainly the people, had not even heard about the arrest and impending trial. When the legal system was reformed earlier in the year, Lord Rochford had made certain the removal of certain “papist-biased” judges from their posts, ensuring to stack the court with Boleyn and reformer-allies. These jurists were solely in Boleyn’s pockets and he paid them well that they would remember his family’s advancement. Henry made it clear what verdict he expected the court to find by subtle means when they had rejoined. By the time Mary appeared before them, shortly after 8 A.M. that morning, she stood little chance of a pardoning.
The state sanctioned the death of the one person whom, in the eyes of Europe, was the true and legitimate heir. Thankfully the news had barely begun to spread in noble circles beyond pure unconfirmed rumor and speculation. The Lady Mary’s Attainder had been delivered to the jurists early on the morning of the case with strict instructions from Cromwell that the case was to take precedence over all other activities on that day’s rolls and remain as confidential as possible, upon pain of death for the jurists, themselves. Members of Parliament were not notified of the case, unless they were to sit in judgment, until after the proceedings had actually occurred.
Henry did not want to risk that the members of the House of Commons might relay to their subjects—and those traitorous rebels—that their idol was about to be put to death. The last thing he wanted to do was risk making her a martyr. In a closed session of court, the jurists received the Lady Mary to stand against her charges. She arrived wearing a simple garment of blue and brown damask, with bell sleeves and a white maid’s cap. She wore a signature ruby and gold cross around her neck. The yeomen, as was custom, brought her into the courtroom, bringing with them their axes, turned away from her until she was pronounced guilty.
The Lady Mary arrived at her defense table alone, as defendants in those times were not allowed defense counsel and had very limited rights, and listened as the clerk of the court read out the initial indictment against her. Lord Rochford, despite a clear conflict of interest, served as a jurist and would later tell the Queen that the Lady Mary could barely keep her composure. She was nervous, anxious, and had cried as soon as she entered the chamber, protesting her innocence as the charges were read. The state presented the evidence against her, the Aske letter and those draft responses written in her own hand. Since prisoners were not allowed a defense attorney she was immediately found guilty of her crimes once the crown’s Solicitor General Richard Rich presented the evidence on Henry’s behalf.
A full jurist panel found her unanimously guilty of corroborating with the rebel leaders and for treason for attempting to overthrow her father. They threw the book at her. The evidence was damaging. Even if some evidence was taken out of context, her very contact with the rebels was treason, regardless of her message. When the court asked her what her response was to their evidence, she replied that she had been forever a maiden of Christ, and a true and loyal subject to the King, but that only Christ’s judgment should suffice in her eyes. That she had been falsely accused by wicked servants about her person, over whom she had no control, and that she would not rest to clear her name with his majesty if so given the opportunity. “If it appears that I shall die, I say this to you all: Christ in his mercy has determined it is by his will alone I shall perish from this earth, I believe in him and wish you all to pray for the King, for he has been surrounded by evil council.”
She could barely get the words out through bouts of heavy sobbing. Without a change in her unstable demeanor, the High Constable of the Court, George Kilroy, pronounced the predictable verdict and found her guilty as charged, to be beheaded or burnt at the stake, according to his majesty’s pleasure. After the verdict was pronounced, it was acceptable to spread the word that she had been found guilty and would await sentencing at the Tower. There would be no further trials or hearing, simply a letter in the King’s own hand, read to her aloud by the Tower Constable, pronouncing her method of death, along with the date and time.
Cromwell immediately dispatched the verdict to the King who, after his hunt, had gone to his estate at Whitehall to be with his family. Cromwell would have to wait for Henry’s decision on what to do about Mary. As Mary struggled through her trial, the King spent the remainder of the day after his hunt with Anne and his (other) children. Perhaps this was his own unique way of making peace with putting an old part of his life to rest while focusing on his future.
Mary left the courtroom that day hysterical. The Yeoman’s axes were now turned towards her, signifying a guilty verdict, as she was escorted back to her cell at the Tower to await her father’s decision on her execution method, date, and time. When the response did come, several hours later, the King ordered her to be beheaded by the next available executioner the following morning. His only orders, given sullenly, were to get it over with quickly. The following day Cromwell delivered the message that Henry, in his mercy, had granted that the relatively merciful sentence of a quick beheading was to be carried out that day, December 30th, 1536, at 7 A.M. in the morning. A local, experienced executioner, highly recommended by Cromwell and trusted by the King, would do his charge. Cromwell gave her a purse of 18 ducats to give the executioner for his duty, as it was customary for the accused to pay the executioner as they were about to die. She requested the Bishop Stephen Gardiner to come and hear her last confession and administer the last rites.
Bishop Gardiner attended Mary around 7 P.M. the evening before and stayed with her until midnight, in prayer for a majority of the time. They prayed for hours refusing to allow him to leave her presence. She confessed that she had been an innocent maid and a faithful servant of the King. She admitted she hated the Lady Anne, but was letting that go for the betterment of her soul. Should she meet her maker the following day and wanted to go to God with a pure heart and a clean conscience. She dictated to the Bishop her last will and testament, along with a personal letter to the King:
“My dearest and most gracious Father and Majesty,
I solemnly beg your highnesses forgiveness for any impediment I may have caused to your majesty’s humble heart. Please know that I am only a woman and beg for your majesty’s earnest mercy as your true faithful servant. You were the only father I have ever known and my heart loves you as a daughter, though I no longer acknowledge I am as such. I would beg of your majesty’s humble forgiveness for referring to myself in an improper fashion but my soul commends I do so before I pass. I beseech your majesty to be good to Prince Henry and Princess Elizabeth. To love them as a father to a child as they are only small children with large hearts to love you better with. I beseech your majesty to spare my life, but if you cannot fin
d it in your person to recompense my sentence I beg humbly that you beseech me to a swift death so that I may not suffer unjustly prolonged [unreadable] for your better conscience.
Your true, humble and loyal servant, the Lady Mary.”
Historians have debated whether this letter was actually written, but forensic testing of the parchment and the carbon dating of the ink used does match the time period between 1530s and 1550s and Mary’s unique signature was on the paper; however, the rest of the handwriting was not her style at all. At the very least it could have been written by Bishop Gardiner as, considering Mary’s emotional state, it could be debated that she would not have been able to write so clearly and easily. On the other hand, given her delicate, modest personality, and the protocol of the time—which would have made a condemned prisoner’s writing to the King quite uncommon—to be so intentionally brazen towards the King, even in her last letter, would have been out of character for Mary; the letter was thus more likely written by a revisionist fan after her death. The only contemporary account of the drafting is Bishop Gardiner’s statement that he did, indeed, take down Mary’s last will and testament, along with a personal letter to the King, but both of those letters have been damaged over time. Notwithstanding these factors weighing against Mary having written the Actual letter, under the stress she was facing she might have had a mental break and penned the note to relieve her conscience and make peace before she was to leave the Earth. This debate has continued for centuries and most likely will proceed without resolution.
When questioned by Rochford and Cromwell the following morning as to the Lady Mary’s state of mind, Bishop Gardiner reported that she had made her peace with death and took responsibility at the end for her own disloyalty towards the King, but that she vowed upon her very soul that she had never betrayed him in the charges upon which she had been accused. She lamented the loss of her relationships with both her mother and her father, and had often wished that the good Lord had chosen to take her back far sooner, but she had come to terms with the time and method of her returning to wait upon her God, and wished the King nothing but good will and Godspeed.
Had the Queen Lived: Page 17