Had the Queen Lived:

by Raven A. Nuckols

  By the following morning it was fairly public knowledge that the Lady Mary was to be put to death. Most of the King’s subjects refused to believe it and labeled it vicious gossip by Anne’s cronies. The news had failed to make it to the north where the rebels were still gathered. Interestingly enough, neither Aske nor any of the other rebel leaders were yet to be brought upon charges for their parts in the uprising, or for Aske’s own letter to Mary. This was not merely an oversight by the crown; this was an intentional delay tactic by Cromwell, who had failed to provide any counsel on bringing charges so quickly on Aske. Aske’s being in residence for the Christmastide festivities bought the minister time to further investigate him and make him an easy capture when the time was right to bring him to trial.

  At 7 A.M. on December 30th, 1536, Constable Kingston escorted the Lady Mary from her cell in the Tower of London to the scaffold on the Tower Green. She denied herself a final meal and seemed nervous and faltering on her way to the platform. According to contemporary reports, she was wearing a rather plain dress of blue fabric with a white and black damask overlay and a ruby and gold cross necklace about her neck, said to be her mother’s. She wore no headdress and her hair flowed loosely down her neck. Spectators commented that you could see she had been visibly upset and her face had shown the effects of prolonged crying, with red puffy cheeks and streaks from the tears visible about her face. She was shaking rather nervously and more than once had to be held by a guardsman as she slowly made her way to the scaffold. She appeared to be trying to hold her composure as she made her way through the small group of people who had heard about the impending execution. She was trembling on her way to the scaffold. Then, the limited few assembled people began to chant a call of encouragement for the Lady Mary, and their shouts and applause started to roll through the group. She collapsed into tears and fainted, having to be revived by a guardsman, taking another few moments to bring her up to the scaffold.

  When she made it to the scaffold she gave her executioner his purse and when he asked for forgiveness, she readily thanked him for his duty, tears running down her cheeks. Next she was greeted warmly by the Priest, who blessed her and asked for her last prayer and if she would like to make a final statement. She nodded and approached the end of the scaffold, turned to face the crowd, and began to speak:

  “My fellow Christian people, I proclaim that I have been ordered by his grace, the most High Majesty King Henry VIII, to stand my justice this day for my crimes against him and my sin against Christ. I beseech you to ask Christ in his mercy to receive my soul, and I humbly submit my will to you and to my most gracious Lord, and ask of you all that you bless and pray for his majesty. With this, I leave you now to join my rightful place, as the lord our God commands. I beg you to be good to one another and faithful subjects of his majesty. I pray forgiveness for my sins upon this earth and for having offended my master so. I beg you all to pray for my soul as I take my leave of you.”—Lady Mary

  It was common for prisoners at the scaffold to thank their King for his service and say nothing ill of him. It may seem strange today to hear of prisoners giving such kind words for being put to death; however, in the times of the Tudors, those who had not done so would have their loved ones suffering for their insolence after their deaths. The family members of those who spoke out of turn about their sentencing before their execution were often subject to imprisonment, removal of titles, lands, and income. This tradition of silence and obedience continued in Mary. Although she had no immediate family left to burden, she did have her supporters and she did not wish them harm. Due to the speed and secrecy of the trial and execution, only around 25 people were there when she met her end, mostly servants at the Tower. Tears were strewn from nearly all in sight at her declaration. A few short moments later, with a single stroke, her head was struck from the block, and the beloved Princess Mary was pronounced dead. Her body was buried with her mother at Peterborough Cathedral. Her ruby and gold cross was delivered back to Henry later that day with a note from Sir Kingston that read: “the Lady Mary begged for you to cherish this token, with her love, as both a parting gift from a dutiful subject, and as a loving daughter.”

  5.3 The End of the Uprising

  At the next session of Parliament, Cromwell would introduce an Act recommending to the King that all papist heretics and their families would now face even stricter penalties for refusing to recognize the King as supreme head of the Church of England. It would be illegal and punishable by death to be considered a heretic, not only for the individual so pronounced, but also for the entire family of the accused. Given the rebellion and Mary’s intransigence, it was not enough for Henry to go after the traitors; Cromwell wished to send a dire warning to all Acts of sedition or treason by anyone—or their associates—would not be tolerated. To prove it, he intended to use every weapon in his arsenal. Anne was blamed entirely for this measure, but while it is certainly true that there was insecurity on the part of the Queen about the Catholics, this measure was entirely Cromwell’s doing.

  After Mary’s death, Henry took full advantage of his ability to go back on his word to the rebel leaders; he had them removed from their comfortable guest rooms at Whitehall Palace and placed in the Tower where they had been languishing since their own arrest on Bills of Attainder two days after Mary’s arrest. Cromwell read them their charges at their arrests, and they had all been thoroughly interrogated but not tortured; however, the investigations produced no solid intelligence, other than to corroborate the other conspirator’s stories that the rebels were waiting for word from their leaders upon their, still presumed, safe return with the King’s demands. With this in mind, the King met directly with Aske and agreed to let him alone head back to meet the rebels, with Brandon and royal forces not far behind, to assure the rebels that their grievances would be addressed in good faith. Henry had no intention of keeping his word after the incident with his daughter, but to suppress the active rebellion and prevent any marching upon London, Aske had to be released to convince the other rebels to stand down.

  It was a risky move, one that Cromwell and Brandon had to orchestrate together heavily to ensure that Aske would not be clever enough to run from view only to then attack them from another angle. This risk was heavy, but nonetheless one that had to be taken. Aske would have to provide a cover story for the absence of the other leaders, Constable and Dacre, to tell other townships to stand down and hope for the best for compliance.

  To help anticipate and answer questions by the rebels, the King—in his own handwriting—agreed to draft a fake proposal of peace and pardons for all involved. Aske was not informed that this offer was fraudulent. In fact, Henry privately revealed his true intentions to Brandon during the first week of January, ordering his military commander to hang all of the rebel traitors: men, women, and children. The King was out for blood and he wanted the death of every single person involved, whether for actively participating in the rebellion or for merely aiding the rebels with shelter or food. He wished to set a prominent example and this was the best means to ensure that no future uprising would threaten his realm.

  Brandon visibly cringed at what his King had asked of him and began to disclose his own scruples against hanging what he considered to be innocent women and children. Henry reassured him that, in his dreams, he had a vision that God wanted him to seek justice for these traitors. Henry felt, with all of his conviction, that this was the only way to secure his kingdom and all the honorable citizens in it. He openly admitted that this was a terrible favor to ask of his oldest, closest, and truest friend, but confided that he could trust no one else to ensure that his orders would be executed.

  According to the memoirs of a servant who was present, Brandon’s only response was to hang his head; he told his King that his wife Catherine was pregnant with their third child and asked, how could he… drifting off before he could finish his sentence. Henry could relate. Anne too was pregnant with their
child. By bringing up their wives pregnancies, Brandon was attempting to get Henry to realize the magnitude of what he was asking. His King was asking—in fact, ordering—him to take the lives of innocent children; souls who had not yet fully lived. Henry did not fully comprehend his friend’s meaning.

  Henry was focused on vengeance. He only congratulated Brandon and Catherine on their expectancy, increased Brandon’s annual jointure salary, and asked him to do this service as the King’s dear brother, for all the love he bore his sovereign. Brandon reluctantly nodded his head in agreement, but every part of his being resisted the stomach-turning duty. Before dismissing Brandon, Henry also demanded that Aske be brought back safely, so that he could later be formally charged with the capital offense of treason.

  Despite his recent prison stay, Aske returned to the north feeling fulfilled that Henry would keep true to his word in the end and grant most of the rebels’ demands. He had no idea that these “promises” were merely lip service. Brandon and the Earl’s forces stayed at least a solid mile behind the proceeding caravan, while Aske rode, unbeknownst to him, with one of the King’s own trusted groomsmen. This servant of the crown had been disguised as a rebel follower to provide Henry with extra insurance of knowing the rebels’ intelligence. Aske carried in his satchel the King’s pardon decree and all appeared well. That is, until the group neared Doncaster, where a second uprising was starting under the leadership of Sir Francis Bigod of Settrington, a smaller part of Yorkshire.

  With the Pilgrimage leaders away celebrating with what Bigod viewed as the traitors of the crown, Bigod had stirred up sentiment amongst the rebels for the same demands Aske had originally sent to the King, but Bigod used the length of time it had taken for the leaders to return as proof that the King was incapable of keeping his promises and that another uprising was essential. Bigod led this second uprising at Cumberland and Westmoreland and intended to go through Yorkshire once more; however, for his campaign, Bigod wanted to be successful where Aske, Constable and Dacre had apparently failed. Furthering his potential for success, Bigod had a talent for rhetoric that rallied the remaining rebels to pick up where they had left off back in October.

  When Aske came across deserters from Bigod’s Rebellion, heading back home to feed their families, they informed him of Bigod’s activities. Aske was devastated. His entire belief in what the King stood for was now in jeopardy because the people had failed to achieve their goals fast enough to satisfy the rebels who were left. When Aske had met with them in October, he found the group as a whole to be reasonable and understanding that these negotiations would take time. With this new information he found nothing but an angry, tired, frustrated and starving group of rebels being fed rhetoric from an inexperienced leader seeking fame, fortune or some other benefit unknown to Aske. After his meeting with the deserters, he turned back to Brandon and told him of Bigod’s Rebellion and sought special permission to go on ahead with the King’s groom to learn their demands and attempt to peacefully resolve the latest uprising. Unfortunately, Brandon had his own private orders and denied Aske’s fairly reasonable request. For all of Aske’s work on the rebels behalf, Bigod had single handedly assured their destruction. There would be only one outcome of this, unimaginable bloodshed.

  Aske and the groom were kept back behind Brandon and the Earl as they marched ahead, now nearly 10,000 strong; the King had been wise enough this go around to provide additional reinforcements, enough to be able to slaughter Bigod and the rest of the rebels. Brandon planned to strike at night, after the rebels had set up camp and would have been sleeping for at least several hours, this would not only ensure his own men would be able to get some rest and use some of their food rations, but also that Bigod’s forces would be completely unprepared and vulnerable. The lack of formal military training in this instance would work to Brandon’s benefit. In this harsh winter, temperatures at night dropped into the low teens would cause sword blades to stick inside their scabbards, like a tongue to a pole. This would effectively allow the King’s forces to strike when the rebels were not only vulnerable, but practically disarmed. Brandon also ordered that his forces proceed in silence, so as not to alert the rebels that they were coming, preserving the element of surprise, as well. His attack would focus on a campaign of fire, torching the tents as the Bigod rebels slept and were killed if they tried to exit.

  Brandon’s plan turned out brilliantly and nearly 400 rebels were killed while still sleeping or in their tents. Those who attempted to run, were instead run down and the King’s forces slit their throats or killed them by gunfire in a short battle. The rest were gathered up by the massively superior force and hung systematically. In total, the King’s forces suppressed the entire rebellion in less than three hours, with over 790 rebel bodies to result, and dozens more unaccounted for. Aske became physically ill at the sight of the carnage, especially at witnessing the killing of the women and children. Several times he tried to intervene and begged Brandon stop the slaughter, especially after the first one hundred or so surrendered, but Brandon knew it would not be enough to please the King and continued his duty. Of these casualties, no distinction was made for rank, there were men of the nobility, men of the cloth and commoners alike, all sharing the same fate. With their blood Henry had secured peace through tyrannical means. Their bodies languished, hanging from the trees as a fearful reminder to prospective rebels of what crossing the King meant. With his duty done and the victims’ blood on his hands, Brandon ordered his forces, along with Aske in chains, to return to London to report back to the King. It was reported that Aske shed tears on the battlefield at the loss of his fellow countrymen and for what was to come for England. Reportedly he had asked Brandon as a fellow gentleman to give him a proper soldiers death instead of taking him back to die at the hands of a tyrant. For all that Aske had started; Brandon felt for him and respected his honor and dignity in his request. Sadly he replied that he had to take him back to the King as per his direct command. Privately, Brandon suspected he would have requested the same if he were in Aske’s position.

  Although the Pilgrimage leaders had nothing to do with, and even attempted to suppress Bigod’s rebellion, they too were captured and put on trial. Thanks to Brandon’s strategic military planning, the only official uprising in Henry VIII’s reign ended in January 1537. Among the leaders captured were Lord Darce, John Hussey 1st Baron of Sleaford, Robert Constable, and Robert Aske. Hussey and Darce were beheaded and Aske was taken to the Tower to stand trial for his involvement.

  Aske was tried at Westminster and found guilty of treason. As part of his sentencing he was to be taken back to York and chained in prison, languishing for seven months before finally receiving his execution date in July 1537. The reason for the length of time between Aske’s trial and sentencing remains a mystery, especially in light of the Lady Mary’s extremely expedient proceedings. Lord Rochford’s accounts show liveries and accommodations charges made for his presence in York when Aske was hanged. He was most likely present on behalf of Anne, who could not formally be present, but to ensure that the justice she so desired was carried out. Anne’s direct involvement in the events of the Pilgrimage and resulting crackdown has not been proven with any substantial evidence, beyond dispatches by scrupulous sources. Nevertheless, Aske was to hang at Clifford’s Tower in York and on July 12th, 1537 his sentence was carried out.

  The Duke of Suffolk returned home after the suppression of the rebellion to attempt to reconcile his broken relationship with his wife Catherine. Returning home took a significant amount of adjustment for him, as a result he stayed away from court, pleading that he was tending to his affairs. In reality, his conscience was so stricken with his involvement in the slaughter that he could barely function. He slept and ate little, and would stay alone for hours, practicing his archery or riding. It was also rumored he had ulcers that left him in constant pain and that the court was too much an excitement and irritant to him, especially considering
his other wounds as well. The Duke was undergoing a significant course of depression. He despised Anne for her involvement in turning Henry’s mind to this course, first with the death of the Lady Mary and now this. He never forgave the Queen and sought every opportunity to bring her to ruin. His only real comfort came in being a father to his children, with hope of reconciling with Catherine now that he was home for a while.

  At the end of the summer of 1537 Ambassador Chapuys finally received a reply to his letters to his own court, detailing what was taking place in England. When the word spread shortly after the Christmas season about the death of the Lady Mary and the senseless murders of hundreds of northern rebels, it solidified Henry as a major force to be reckoned with. The Catholic people of England, as well, had reacted with genuine shock, disbelief and grief. A significant number of refugees had fled to nearby France and even Spain to escape not only the religious changes afoot in England but the possibility of being killed for those beliefs as well. Since record keeping was in its infancy at this time, there are no clear figures for the number of English refugees, but testifying to the number is that Henry never had another rebellion to contend with during his reign.

  Charles V had finally had enough, the senseless murder of his cousin was more than he could bear, and he had finally grown concerned that if Henry had too effectively been able to consolidate his power. If Anne’s power had been doubted after the Wolsey affair, it was definitely solidified with Mary’s death. She was now untouchable. The Emperor told his Ambassador, through coded messages, that he was preparing for “alternate means of compensation” and would be in touch with Chapuys in due course. The Emperor could not have known how true his words, promising vengeance, would prove. While the people silently suffered the loss of their great, pious, Catholic heroine, the Lady Mary, the English royals too would come to suffer a loss. Anne suffered a near fatal miscarriage in August 1537.