Good Queen Mary Part III: The Defiant Sister

Mary’s capitulation, as recorded in part two, would have consequences lasting her entire life.

In the meantime, however, Henry consented to see her, and Jayne Seymour, his new wife, offered her love and support. The years of struggle between Mary and Henry had left their mark, but within a few years relations would normalize. It was a difficult transition, but Mary would gradually adopt it. Here we can make some observations about her character and habits that will mark her throughout her life. In the first place Mary was not a straight-laced prude, for whom a smile would crack her face and who went about her days dreaming of blood, as in the fevered imagination of anti-Catholic history. She was witty, enjoyed word-games, masques, and other of the court amusements which had dominated her childhood. She enjoyed cards, horse races and gambling on them, dice and other games. But above all, she was marked by her love of fashion. Mary loved French fashions, and often attempted to set trends. Soon she would have occasion to do just that.

In October 1537, Henry was at last able to rejoice in the birth of a son, Edward. The baptism was prepared for 15 October, and Mary was honored to be his godmother. For the occasion she chose a silver dress, described as kirtle of cloth of silver, richly embroidered. Unlike Elizabeth, who was put into a hostile relationship with Mary in her very infancy, she took to Edward right away, and had a great deal of affection for him. Having accepted the royal supremacy, a bond was easier to facilitate between the two. The baptism was a splendid ceremony, where Cranmer, his Protestantism still constrained by Henry’s conservative mindset, had to play the part as a Bishop carrying out rites which he largely scorned. Mary, however, was front in center with the great lords, almost as if nothing had happened. But the shadow of her mother and the long struggle with her father was always before her mind.

From Mary’s perspective, the next ten years are really for her the quiet years. The drama of Henry’s court would not touch her. Her new step-mother, Jane Seymour, died but a few weeks after Edward’s Christening. The marriage to Jayne Seymour reveals some interesting things about the change in situation in England. In the first place, when Henry married Jayne, a mere few weeks after Anne Boleyn’s execution, his real wife had died (ostensibly of natural causes),¹ and his pretend wife was executed for treason. Jayne was Catholic in her sympathies, and nothing stopped Henry from rejoining the Church. But departing from the Church was never about marrying Anne or having a son, it was always about Henry getting what he wanted, because (in his own mind) whatever he wanted must be what God wanted him to have. Now, as the de facto Pope of the English Church, Henry had greater power than any of his predecessors, though it violated Magna Carta and his coronation oath. The Henrician schism was in full progression, and he was not turning back now.

It was some years after Jayne’s death before Henry would marry again, but he would opt for Cromwell’s suggestion of a marriage to the house of Cleeves, one of the German Protestant houses in open revolt against the Emperor. Yet when Henry set eyes on Anne of Cleeves, it all went wrong. He strongly disliked her, and refused to consummate the marriage. After a little bit of legal work, he had the marriage annulled, and before Anne knew what was even afoot, she was to accept her new status as the “Kings’ sister,” and given a residence. The upside down world that she had entered would get even stranger, as soon after Henry and his new wife, Katherine Howard, came to dinner. If Anne had grasped the English language and the Tudor politics, she would be grateful for the reversal of her fortunes, since she would not have to worry of falling short by a head. Mary frequently visited Anne, and through her influence, the former queen converted to Catholicism when Mary restored it. The failure of the Cleeves Marriage ended badly for Cromwell, as his enemies made use of the failure to turn Henry against him. Thus the man whom Mary came to rely upon for her communication with the king was now himself cut down. But to speak more of this would take us too far afield to the present purpose.

Katherine Howard was also not so lucky. She was a woman with a past, and a few years into the marriage, Henry discovered that she had been terribly promiscuous in her youth, and had even had adulterous affairs while she was queen. She and her lovers were put to death for treason. At last, Henry would marry Katherine Parr, his sixth and final wife. Parr was a widower, and had a knack for handling Henry, which allowed her to survive a few palace coup attempts. She took steps to put both Mary and Elizabeth’s education back on track, as it had been much neglected (Mary’s former tutor, Richard Fetherston, was put to death the same year as Cromwell). Elizabeth in particular would form a close bond with her final stepmother, who was distinctly Protestant.

In 1547, Henry died. Mary did not leave many thoughts on her mourning; her Father’s treatment had defined her life, and he was always in her shadow. The final act of his will decreed that Edward, as the firstborn son, would rule after him, but if he would die with no issue, then Mary would rule, and if, in turn, she were to die with no issue, Elizabeth would rule. This was completed on 30 December 1546, and became law. Mary, though still formally a bastard, was now legally restored to the succession.

Even more, after her Father’s death, she became one of the richest landowners in England, with lands in Richmond, Kent and East Anglia. She saw to her lands, and showed again the customary loyalty and care for her servants and retainers that she had when she was a young princess. Now she could come into her own as a noble lady, but unfortunately peace was short lived.

Upon Henry’s death, Edward was proclaimed king; just a boy, his education continued while the government of the country was split. Edward’s regency council, headed by the Duke of Somerset, handled all matters temporal, and Thomas Cranmer, the archbishop of Canterbury, would handle all matters spiritual. Cranmer’s first act was to confiscate all of the money which Henry VIII had left so as to have Masses said for his soul. Since Cranmer was about to abolish Purgatory for the English Church, he felt the money could be better spent. Next, he preached before the young king and the court, exhorting them to continue in the work of Godly Reformation.

Henry’s Schismatic Church vs. Edwardine Protestantism

Henry’s break with Rome was expedient to fulfilling his will, and took the form which he felt was necessary to ensure the break: denial of all papal authority; denying the nature of the Church as an independent society; and the absolute necessity of the sacrament of penance. Though not a doctrinal point, the destruction of the Monasteries, culminating in the 1536 confiscation of all monastic property, radically changed the nature and life of the English Church from what it had been before, but not the Mass. Cranmer pushed for English plainsong to replace chant and polyphony, but Henry, who was himself a musician, would never abandon the music of his youth.² And try as he might, whenever Cranmer suggested the abolition of the Mass and institution of a communion service, Henry suggested it sounded too much like Luther, whom he hated. So, Cranmer had to bide his time, burning men at the stake who believed the same things which he believed to appease his master. Henry hinted at supporting the notion of a communion service if the French would do the same, but this never materialized, and it is not certain if Henry was in his right mind when he announced this, so near his death. His death came, and the door to a fuller Reformation of the Church opened; Cranmer meant to take England through it.

The average man in England retained something of a Catholic character, which varied from people who wished to see the ancient religion restored as it was before Henry, and those who saw Henry’s break with the Church as a minor squabble by their betters which little concerned them, since the Mass and the Sacraments, veneration of saints, festivals, etc. carried on as they had before. It was primarily in the centers of power that one was to find men convicted of more radical Protestant notions, or the dyed in the wool believers of Henry’s system. The next steps of the government would change all of this.

In 1548, shortly after the King’s accession, the designs Cranmer had long nursed for the “Godly Reformation” would now be set into motion. First, Cranmer published a book of sermons to be used by clergy in England. This was sent to Stephen Gardiner, the bishop of Winchester, for his assent. Though Gardiner became one of the staunchest proponents of the King’s Great matter, and contumaciously snapped threats of schism at Pope Clement VII, he was religiously conservative. As one of the principal agents of the Six Articles of Belief published by Henry VIII, he could not accept Cranmer’s book of sermons which clearly denied transubstantiation, the sacrificial character of the Mass, as well as the veneration of saints. So, he was sent to the tower, and after release, was recommitted to the tower prisons for continuing to uphold transubstantiation. In 1549, Cranmer’s prayerbook was ready, the Book of Common Prayer, imposed on the whole country by the Act of Uniformity the same year. The Book of Common prayer is in many ways, the Mass but stripped of everything that makes it the Mass, in terms of sacrificial language, ritual, and theology. It was in a fluent and frankly brilliant English, but this actually made the Prayerbook more controversial than less. Not merely was the change from Latin a shock to most people, but not everyone’s English was the same, and large populations in the realm, such as the Welsh and Cornish, did not even speak English. Latin was familiar to them, whereas the English prayerbook was unintelligible. Since most of England still venerated saints, these and their images also had to go, followed by the demand to destroy all altars. This led to widespread rebellions which the government was obliged to put down with violence, but we will address the prayerbook rebellions elsewhere.

The boy king followed these developments, and rejoiced whenever he heard of the rebels being put to death. How dare they rebel against his imposition of godly religion! Though still young, Edward was precocious, and had been trained in the more reformed Protestantism of Cranmer and Latimer. Increasingly, the prayerbook and other changes in religion were not something foisted on Edward by his advisors, they were something he actively participated in and willed. He had all the makings of an even more despotic tyrant than his father. Amidst the prayerbook rebellions, and the attempts to revise it to make it even more Protestant, Edward turned to a more important matter, that of his sister.

We left Mary in 1547, after Henry’s death, who had become one of the largest landowners in England. Already in that year, she was known to hear four Masses a day, even though the religious policy of the new regime was as yet unknown. Just the same, she knew the men at the helm of her brother’s government, and their direction in religion was no-good. As the government began passing laws changing religion, Mary became the focus of religious opposition to government policy.

William Seymour, the Duke of Somerset, was Edward’s uncle and head of the regency council. Mary was apprehensive, as her letters to the Emperor Charles V reveal. Charles had again taken interest in Mary’s well-being, but principally because it benefitted him. He could affect England’s policies with subtle threats. But the English could play this game as well. As soon as they made peace with France, the Emperor knew the French were now freed up for fresh offensives.

As the Act of Uniformity was passed, the Council noted Mary’s flagrant disregard for it by continuing to have Mass said in her residences. Nevertheless, in 1549 with the Prayerbook rebellions raging, and dissensions striking the regency council over Somerset’s heavy handed rule, the government was too busy attempting to avert civil war to take notice of Mary. The chief men of the council, William Paget, the Earl of Arundel, and Thomas Wriothesly, the Earl of Southampton were conservatives who wanted to restore the state of the Church as it was at Henry’s death, which is to say, to preserve the Mass. The other major power broker was John Dudley, the Earl of Warwick, who was a strong Protestant and a longtime ally of the duke of Somerset. Still, their relationship had become strained, and fatefully for the duke, Somerset made a fatal mistake. Attempting to consolidate his power against the other council members, he took the young king with him to Windsor, but the other members of the regency council, Paget and Wriothesly, moved against him, taking the tower, and Hampton court. In this climate of betrayal, Dudley saw the writing on the wall, and joined the conservatives. Edward VI also complained of Somerset’s actions, and finally grasping that he was cornered, the duke surrendered on 14 October. He was sent to the tower, for now.

Mary had been kept in the loop by communications with William Paget, whose sympathies lay with her. After Somerset’s fall, it appears that an offer was made to Mary to take over the regency council. As Dr. Linda Porter relates, “The council’s communication to Mary referred directly to a question about the coup, and the confused months of wrangling that followed it, that has never been fully resolved. Was Mary, at any point, offered the regency? Nowadays, such a robust denial would be taken by a cynical media as proof positive that an approach had been made. Merely by acknowledging the possibility that she could undertake such a role, the council were giving it credence. It seems likely, then, that feelers were put out and that some, at least of the new privy council considered her a viable candidate.”³ This actually says much about Mary’s character. The new Imperial ambassador in London, Van der Delft, thought this would be a great victory for religion. Mary could influence young Edward away from Protestantism, and at least maintain the Mass as it was at Henry’s death. Mary, however, if she were in fact offered this, refused, much to Wriothesly’s chagrin. Nevertheless, later events perhaps tell us why.

By December of the same year, the Dudley, rather than Wriothesly, consolidated power and came to dominate the regency council, packing it with those of his mind. Mary had said to Van der Delft that Dudley was the most unstable man in England. Perhaps she foresaw that if she became regent, she would be embroiled in the snake pit of court politics, and would suffer defeat rather than restore the faith. Either way, as Dudley came to grapple with debt, inflation, and war, he pressed on with religious upheaval. In this, he saw that Mary was the greatest threat to government policy, as she defied the rule of law by hearing Mass in her household. She must be made to submit.

This would be no surprise to Mary, but also caused her great distress. Fourteen years earlier, she had been forced to violate her conscience to save her life and the lives of her supporters. She had not forgotten, recalling the Psalmist, “peccatum meum contra me est semper.” She would not yield again.

She was invited to court for Christmas, but refused, seeing in this an attempt to deprive her of the Mass of the Nativity. In February, however, she went to London to see her brother, but he received her very coldly. In April, the council began work on measures to outlaw the Mass in her household, and now Mary seriously gave thought to escape.

In June 1550, three Imperial warships arrived near the Essex coast. The plot had been worked on for months. With the departure of Van der Delft from London, there would be plausible deniability for the Imperial action. The ships would arrive, and whisk Mary off to the continent to the safety of her family. Mary took up residence in Essex at Woodham Walter to prepare for the escape. News of it had leaked to the council, and they made a half-hearted attempt to stop her. But in truth, the feeling was almost that she should be allowed to go, since then she could be denounced as a traitor. As the Imperial warships appeared, Mary was in a contradictory state. “I am like a little ignorant girl, and I care neither for my goods nor for the world, but only for God’s service and my conscience. I know not what to say; but if there is peril in going and peril in staying, I must choose the lesser of two evils.”⁴ But she could not choose. She was a troubled woman, and the new attempts of Dudley to break her will had more than an echo of her father’s brutal treatment of her. The Dutch captain Scepperus became impatient. The ships had been seen, and they could not tarry. But Mary had barely packed. The imperial agent Dubois begged her to hurry, but still she could not go. What had happened? Mary had received unwelcome advice, which was very much in her interest from the chief officer of her household, Robert Rochester. Rochester was unswervingly loyal to Mary, to the Catholic faith, and to England. If she left, and Edward should die, she would be unable to claim the throne. And what then of the faith? Elizabeth, whom, after a short period of closeness, had not only drifted further from Mary in familial relations, but in religion, would be queen. This did not need to be spelled out for her.

In the days of hesitancy, something steeled in Mary. Though she had not her armies, she was the granddaughter of the great Isabella, the Catholic queen. She would not desert all of the people in her lands who looked to her to preserve the Mass, nor consign the fate of Mary’s dowry to Protestantism. She would stay. The ships departed; Mary did not.

Charles V was always doubtful about her flight; perhaps he was a little pleased. But he could do no more for her. The French were funding new religious strife in Germany, and that came first.

Throughout the rest of 1550, Mary dodged summons to court. The privy council secretary, William Petre, and Chancellor Richard Rich (the same who had betrayed St. Thomas More) appeared in August to summon her, and she had to put them off. She knew she could refuse no longer, and so this year, answered the Christmas summons.

That year 1550 was the last time all of Henry VIII’s children would be together. Edward was no longer the sweet little boy playing with toys and excelling at Latin word games, he was now thirteen, and he decided to let her know that he would not tolerate her disobedience any longer. His tirade reduced her to tears, which he could not stand the sight of, and he too wept. He asked her to dry her tears, as he meant no harm to her. But it was clear enough that a new attack was coming, The young King was in the vigor of youth, but did Mary already see that it wasn’t to last? We shall find out in the next installment.

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1 Catholic controversialists 40 years later would suggest that Katherine of Aragon had been poisoned, such as Fr. Nicholas Sander. Sander had seized upon contemporary gossip, the autopsy which revealed a blackened heart, and some of the formal charges against Anne Boleyn that she had tried to poison Katherine, but he lays it at the feet of Henry. In truth, Henry had a fear and hatred of poisoning, but the Boleyns had perhaps attempted to poison St. John Fisher, and it has the appearance of truth at least that such an attempt fit contemporary suspicion. On the other hand, Anne was already victorious, whereas the blackened heart suggests cancer. Dr. Antonia Fraser remarks that, though cancer is the most likely explanation, the blackened heart is symbolic of her broken heart.