Mary Tudor (76 page)
Authors: Linda Porter
On the question of her marriage, she was equally forthright. She believed Philip was responsible for all the pressure put on her to marry the duke of Savoy and did not accept Feria’s explanation that this had been done to assure her place in the succession. Her comments were illuminating. She was sure that ‘the queen had lost the affection of the people of this realm because she had married a foreigner’.The assertion that Mary was no longer loved by the majority of ordinary folk cannot be substantiated, but it shows that Elizabeth was happy to damage her sister’s reputation before she was actually dead.
The Spaniard was a troubled man when he left:‘She is a very vain and clever woman. She must have been thoroughly schooled in the manner in which her father conducted his affairs and I am much afraid that she will not be well-disposed in matters of religion.’
33
33
Mary was now beyond all these considerations. Drifting in and out of consciousness, she was surrounded by her anguished ladies, the only people who had truly loved her since she was a child. In their company, she always found support and diversion from the cares that beset her. They helped the queen meet death as devotedly as they served her in life. She seems to have felt no pain and her dreams, or visions, were of little children like bands of angels singing to her. Did their music take her back 40 years to that long-lost haven of parental affection, when she had run after the Venetian organist Dionysius Memo imploring him to play for her again? She knew nothing then of the vicissitudes of life, only harmony and security.
At six o’clock on the morning of 17 November, before the slow dawn of a quiet autumn day, Queen Mary heard mass, as she had always done.Through tribulation and triumph, the familiar rites of the Catholic Church were her greatest comfort. She was still able to make the responses, her deep voice stronger than the muffled tears of her attendants. Then she rested. Some time around seven, as the light filtered into her bedchamber, Mary Tudor slipped away. So peaceful was her passing that those around her did not realise, at first, that she was gone.
Mary’s coronation ring was taken to Elizabeth at Hatfield, as proof that the queen was, indeed, dead. Her successor, well prepared for the moment, gave thanks to God and began at once to govern, with all the confidence that Feria had observed in her a week before. Cardinal Pole survived his cousin by only 12 hours, his death probably hastened by overhearing an unguarded comment about Mary’s demise from one of his household. This gave the day a sad symmetry, but it removed someone whom the new queen disliked and feared.The task of Mary’s household officers and ladies was done, but there was no wholescale change in the complexion of politics. Eleven of Mary’s privy councillors continued to serve Elizabeth and the changeover of power was smooth.
Philip learned of his wife’s loss with resignation. He told Juana:‘I felt a reasonable regret for her death. I shall miss her’. Mary had loved him unreservedly but would probably have expected little more from him than this restraint. Kings were not supposed to weep over the deaths of their wives and he was still a young man with only one heir. Politically and personally, he needed his freedom. But his time as king of England was at an end and he was anxious to start off on a good footing with Elizabeth, in minor as well as major matters. He ordered that a thorough inventory be made of the clothes and jewels Mary had given him, lest he be accused of purloining items that the new queen might feel were rightfully her property, not his: ‘In case you have to hand over this list and have it translated,’ he wrote,‘I am setting down here what I remember as to when and how the things were given to me.’The list included ‘a rich garter, with two large faceted diamonds, a large pearl, five flat diamonds set in a rose pattern, twelve flat rubies around the garter, set two by two, and twenty-four pearls set two by two’.
34
The king noted that the earl of Arundel had invested him with this on board ship at Southampton. It had evidently meant something to him, after all.
34
The king noted that the earl of Arundel had invested him with this on board ship at Southampton. It had evidently meant something to him, after all.
Mary’s body remained at St James’s Palace, lying in state in her privy chamber, until 13 December. Elizabeth certainly did not stint on the funeral arrangements, which were put in the hands of the marquess of Winchester. He was determined that the honours due to Mary should be fully observed and this involved a heavy financial outlay.The final bill for the ceremonies came to a staggering
£
7,763 (nearly £2 million today).When everything was ready, Mary’s coffin was draped in cloth of gold and removed from the palace, to begin its journey to Westminster Abbey. A life-sized effigy of the queen lay on top of the coffin, crowned and carrying the sceptre and orb, as Mary had done when she left her coronation five years earlier. A superb procession accompanied the queen on her last journey through London: her household servants and gentlemen mourners, King Philip’s servants, the marquess of Winchester with the banner of the English royal arms, and the heralds carrying the paraphernalia of monarchy - the sword, the helmet and the coat of armour - male symbols which would now pass from England’s first female ruler to its second. Mary’s ladies,‘riding all in black trailed to the ground’, and her chief mourner, Margaret Douglas, countess of Lennox, immediately followed the coffin. Behind them came the clergy.
£
7,763 (nearly £2 million today).When everything was ready, Mary’s coffin was draped in cloth of gold and removed from the palace, to begin its journey to Westminster Abbey. A life-sized effigy of the queen lay on top of the coffin, crowned and carrying the sceptre and orb, as Mary had done when she left her coronation five years earlier. A superb procession accompanied the queen on her last journey through London: her household servants and gentlemen mourners, King Philip’s servants, the marquess of Winchester with the banner of the English royal arms, and the heralds carrying the paraphernalia of monarchy - the sword, the helmet and the coat of armour - male symbols which would now pass from England’s first female ruler to its second. Mary’s ladies,‘riding all in black trailed to the ground’, and her chief mourner, Margaret Douglas, countess of Lennox, immediately followed the coffin. Behind them came the clergy.
When the coffin reached Westminster Abbey it was ‘met by four bishops and the abbot, mitred in copes, censing the body; and so she lay all night under the hearse with watch.There were an hundred poor men in good black gowns, bearing long torches with hoods on their heads … and all about her guard bearing staff-torches in black coats. And all the way chandlers having torches to supply them that had their torches burnt out.’
35
On 14 December requiem mass was heard for Queen Mary, presided over by Abbot Feckenham and his monks, following the ancient Catholic rites. The queen’s regalia, the symbols of her earthly power, were offered back to God and her body was buried in a vault in the north aisle of the chapel of HenryVII, her grandfather. Mary’s ministers and household staff then broke their wands of office and, as was customary, threw them into the grave with their mistress. Finally, the heralds made the long-awaited and unique ceremonial proclamation: ‘The Queen is dead; long live the Queen.’
35
On 14 December requiem mass was heard for Queen Mary, presided over by Abbot Feckenham and his monks, following the ancient Catholic rites. The queen’s regalia, the symbols of her earthly power, were offered back to God and her body was buried in a vault in the north aisle of the chapel of HenryVII, her grandfather. Mary’s ministers and household staff then broke their wands of office and, as was customary, threw them into the grave with their mistress. Finally, the heralds made the long-awaited and unique ceremonial proclamation: ‘The Queen is dead; long live the Queen.’
The funeral was superbly planned and carried out with great dignity, as Elizabeth and the marquess of Winchester intended. But if the new queen hoped that this careful orchestration of the handover of power would pass entirely without controversy, then she was to be disappointed. Bishop John White of Winchester gave a sermon that very nearly undermined Elizabeth’s efforts. True, his remarks about Mary were appropriate and heartfelt: ‘She was a king’s daughter, she was a king’s sister, she was a king’s wife; she was a queen, and by the same title a king also … What she suffered in each of these degrees before and since she came to the crown, I will not chronicle; only this I say, however it pleased God to will her patience to be exercised in this world, she had in all estates the fear of God in her heart.’ He had chosen as his text verses from Ecclesiastes: ‘I can commend the state of the dead above the state of the living; but happier than any of them both is he that was never born.’This gloomy and rather perverse sentiment was not itself the cause of controversy, but further into his oration White quoted from the book of Proverbs the very same words that Mary’s arch-enemy, the duke of Northumberland, had used in his last, desperate letter: ‘a living dog is better than a dead lion’. Having asked the question,‘What beast is more vile than a dog, more worthy than a lion?’White went on to expatiate on the notion that dogs were faithful, loving beasts and that King David had compared himself to one in the Old Testament. But in spite of his assertion that a proper understanding of these words was ‘better is one lively preacher in the church that dareth to bark against sin, blasphemy, heresy; better is one lively officer or magistrate in the commonweal, that dareth to speak against injuries, extortions, seditions, rebellions and other discords, than the dead lion’, the damage was done.
36
White appeared to be comparing Elizabeth to a dog and Mary to a lion. His words cost him his career. Elizabeth did not like the canine reference. She confined White to his house. In June 1559 he was deprived of his bishopric for continuing to oppose religious reform and in the following year he died.
36
White appeared to be comparing Elizabeth to a dog and Mary to a lion. His words cost him his career. Elizabeth did not like the canine reference. She confined White to his house. In June 1559 he was deprived of his bishopric for continuing to oppose religious reform and in the following year he died.
Bishop White was not the only one to run into difficulties with his eulogy to Mary.The writer of
The Epitaph upon the death of our late virtuous Quene Marie deceased
penned a glowing but very badly written poem to the late queen. In it, he remembered her gentleness, virtue, suffering and generosity:
The Epitaph upon the death of our late virtuous Quene Marie deceased
penned a glowing but very badly written poem to the late queen. In it, he remembered her gentleness, virtue, suffering and generosity:
How many noble men restored and other states also
Well showed her princely liberal heart, which gave both friend and foe.As princely was her birth, so princely was her life,
Constant, courtise, modest and mild; a chaste and chosen wife.Oh mirror of all womanhood! Oh Queen of virtues pure! Oh constant Marie! filled with grace; no age can thee obscure.
Elizabeth was furious that this panegyric made no mention of her, the new monarch, and insisted that this omission be rectified in an additional stanza:
Marie now dead, Elizabeth lives, our just and lawful Queen
In whom her sister’s virtues rare, abundantly are seen.
Obey our Quene as we are bound, - pray God her to preserve
And send her grace life long and fruit, and subjects truth to serve.
37
In 1603, Elizabeth’s coffin was placed above Mary’s in the same vault. James I, wishing to honour his predecessor, erected a magnificent monument over the twin graves, though the only effigy is that of Elizabeth. The symbolism is powerful. In death, as in history, Elizabeth dominates her sister. Despite what was written in 1558, Mary was obscured both literally and metaphorically. But the plaque on the monument gives a different interpretation to one of the most sensitive and sad relationships in all of England’s past: ‘Partners both in throne and grave, here rest we, two sisters, Elizabeth and Mary, in the hope of the resurrection.’
Epilogue
Those who had been close to Mary continued to thread their way through the uncertainties of 16th-century Europe with varying degrees of success. Her household staff, in particular, found that their lives were greatly changed. There was nothing for them at Elizabeth’s court. But their experiences clearly illustrate that many prominent Catholics could not compromise their consciences, preferring exile to secret observance and persecution.
Jane Dormer married Count Feria on 29 December 1558. He left England the following May, having cleared up as much of Philip’s business there as he could. Jane followed him to the Low Countries in July 1559. She never returned to the country of her birth, and when she and her husband established themselves in Spain, their home became the focus for the active but increasingly fractured Catholic opposition to Elizabeth in Europe. Feria was made a duke in 1567 but died only four years later. Jane lived on until 1612, by which time her only son had predeceased her. In her final years, she remembered with sorrow and abiding affection the queen she served half a century before.
Susan Clarencius accompanied Jane Dormer and Lady Dormer, Jane’s grandmother, when they left England in 1559. It was to become a permanent exile, despite further grants of lands and wardships in Essex to Mrs Clarencius in October 1559. As Susan never received formal licence to live abroad, perhaps Elizabeth viewed the Essex grants as an inducement for her not to commit to the Ferias. If so, Catholicism and the shared past of Jane Dormer and Susan Clarencius evidently proved stronger than the new queen’s desire to show some generosity to her sister’s faithful servant. It seems probable that Susan was protected in her old age by Lord Robert Dudley, Elizabeth’s favourite, who was in touch with her up until the time she left and who was used as a channel by Feria himself when the count tried, fruitlessly, to obtain licences for Mrs Clarencius and old Lady Dormer to live abroad. In ensuring that she was not persecuted and her lands were not forfeit, Robert Dudley can be said to have requited the debt to his mother when she sought Susan’s help in 1553. Elizabeth did not grant the licence to stay in Spain, but Susan did not return. She seems to have died in the Ferias’ household around the spring of 1564.
Sir Francis Englefield, having been asked to resign his Crown appointments, was given permission to travel abroad. He, too, left in the spring of 1559 and went to Flanders, on the understanding that he would return when summoned. But he became concerned that he would not be well treated if he returned and stayed away. Thus he became a wanderer, his lands in England confiscated (many went to Elizabeth’s favourite, the earl of Leicester) and his health affected by failing eyesight. During the 1570s and 1580s he was one of the most prominent Catholic exiles and his involvement in plots against Elizabeth eventually led to an act of attainder in 1593. Englefield died in Valladolid in 1596 and was buried in the chapel of the college of St Alban, the first English seminary in Castile.
Other books
House Divided by Peel, Jennifer
Pencil of Doom! by Andy Griffiths
Dark Lightning by Janet Woods
Prisoner of Night and Fog by Anne Blankman
Spook's: The Dark Army (The Starblade Chronicles) by Joseph Delaney
Children of Light by Robert Stone
From This Moment On by Shania Twain
The Eden Express by Mark Vonnegut
A Previous Engagement by Stephanie Haddad
Fire over Swallowhaven by Allan Frewin Jones
