did. Of her own free consent, she had renounced the succession, and
begged that neither in the future Council nor out of it, the subject might be mentioned, or anything done contrary to the wishes of the King of England, or for the sake of the King of Portugal, because such was her resolution, and she was much pleased with it.
Chapuys, we have seen, was quite convinced that nothing remained for Mary but to sign the drafts. Her justification would, as before, be the compulsion exercised, and her written protests would, he considered, be sufficient proof that she had not been a free agent. Nevertheless, he was anxious that the Pope should be told of the thraldom in which she had signed, and should declare her guiltless of all participation in the sin. His anxiety was probably the reflex of her own, and his personal regard for her made him wish to soothe, as far as he was able, her much-tried conscience. Since she had acted by his advice in the tangled skein of diplomacy in which she was caught, his chivalry and affection prompted him to obtain for her all the relief he could. He wrote to the Emperor on the subject, and Charles referred the matter to his ambassador in Rome. Cifuentes had no personal acquaintance with Mary, and viewed the subject in the mere light of politics. He told the Emperor in a ciphered despatch, that it would be useless, and even dangerous to apply for a papal brief, absolving the Princess from her oath, as, in his opinion, the imperial ambassador in England had not shown sufficient cause why the publication of the Princess’s justification to the world should be delayed; for should his Holiness come to know what the Princess had done, the French would sooner or later hear of it; and, if so, the King of England be immediately informed of the fact, and therefore the danger to her life would be increased twofold. The above were the reasons which he (Cifuentes) had for not applying for a delay; but since Chapuys still insisted upon it, after mature deliberation the following expedient had been thought of: The Pope should be petitioned for a _vivæ voces oraculo in genere_, tacitly including Mary, and empowering all confessors to absolve those who might have fallen into these “new English errors”. “In that class the Princess would necessarily be comprised, and therefore any public justification on her own part might be delayed for some time.” Cifuentes goes on to say that Chapuys should remit the whole matter to him, surrounded as he is by those whom he can trust, and who cannot fail to help him by their wisdom and learning. If he should then find just and honest causes why the Princess should be absolved by her confessor, well and good. In this way, his Holiness would be entirely ignorant of the precise and particular object for which his verbal declaration was needed.[212]
Mary signed the letters, and the Pope apparently gave the dispensation asked for, without knowing who was especially to be benefited by it, and we hear no more of the matter.
In the midst of these wretched diplomatic transactions occurs the first note of joy that has greeted Mary for years, more completely reconciling her to her father than all the horrible concessions wrung from her by threats and entreaties. The Queen gave promise of an heir, and Mary was sent for to the court. The following curious extract from a contemporary document describes the meeting between her and the King and Queen. It is, unfortunately, undated, but bears intrinsic evidence that it refers to the spring of 1537:—
“Thus the good Lady Mary’s grace lived a long time in disgrace of the King her father, in hard imprisonment, and danger of her life, till at the lenght, Ann Bullen being dead, and the King maried againe unto Queen Jane, Edward’s mother by whose meanes she came againe in favour with the King—as thus: Upon a time as the King and the Queene were together, she being great with child with King Edward, the King said unto her—Why, darling, how happeneth it you are no merier. She wisely answered, Now it hath pleased your grace to make me your wife, there are none but my inferiors to make mery withall, your grace excepted, unlesse it would please you that wee might enjoye the company of the Lady Marie’s grace at the Court; I could be mery with her. We will have her here, darling, if she will make the merry. So presently the King commanded all her women to be put to her againe, and all in rich array with his daughter, the Lady Mary, in most gorgeous apparel, to come the next day unto the Court, all apparelled at the King’s charge. The King and the Queene standing in the chamber of presence by the fier. This worthy lady entered with all her train. So soon as she came within the chamber doore, she made lowe curtsey unto him; in the midst of the chamber she did so againe, and when she came to him, she made them both lowe cursey, and falling on her knees asked his blessing, who after he had given her his blessing, took her up by the hand, and kist her, and the Queen also, both bidding her welcome. Then the King turning him to the Lords there in presence, said—Some of you weare desirous that I should put this jewell to death. That had been great pittie, quoth the Queene, to have lost your chefest jewell of England.... But Mary, knowing that when her father flattered, most mischief was like to ensue, her coler going and coming, at last in a swoone fell down amongst them. With that the King being greatly perplexed, what for the fear of his daughter, and the frighting of his wife that was then great with child, sought all meanes possible to recover her, and being come to herself, bid her be a good comfort, for nothing should goe against her, and after perfect recovery, took her by the hand, and walked up and down with her. Then commandment was made that she should be called Lady Princess, and the other Lady Elizabeth. Why, governor, quoth the Lady Elizabeth, being but a child, how happs it yesterday, Lady Princess and to-day but Lady Elizabeth? Here was a haughtie stomach betimes.”[213]
The account is inaccurate in two points. Henry never gave in on the question of Mary’s title. Princess in those days meant heiress to the Crown, and he would have been less likely than ever to give it back to his daughter, when the passionately longed-for son might shortly be granted to him. Moreover, Elizabeth had been deprived of the title by act of Parliament months before, and would not have remained in ignorance of the fact till Mary’s return to court, as it had nothing whatever to do with her sister, in the actual state of affairs, but with the declared nullity of Anne Boleyn’s marriage.
On the 23rd May, arrived Hurtado de Mendoza, special envoy from Charles V., to confer with Chapuys, and learn from him his latest news of the King’s will, regarding the Portuguese match. He remained in England for more than a year, and during that time, the wearisome negotiations went on, with the utmost insistence as to detail, while Henry was probably determined from the outset that they should come to nothing. He declared bluntly his refusal to legitimatise Mary, but held out hopes that she would be heiress to the throne, should he die without legitimate issue. When the Emperor had first suggested the marriage, the King of Portugal was disinclined to it, saying that no confidence could be placed in Henry, but Charles had set his mind upon it, and wrote to his ambassador in England, that if it appeared that the Princess would be forced into some other union (he feared with Cromwell) they were to see whether it would be possible to carry her out of the country. Henry told Gardiner to answer any inquiries about the Lady Mary’s marriage with Don Loys, that it was “neither agreed upon nor in any towardness”. Further, in his instructions to Sir Thomas Wyatt, whom he was sending as envoy to Charles, he told him that if the Emperor marvelled, that there was no furtherance in the matter, he should reply that Mendoza brought no commission for it, and came so slenderly despatched that the default is not since supplied, and thinks the matter scarcely in earnest.[214]
All these excuses were made to gain time. If a prince were born and lived, there would be less danger in sending Mary abroad, but among so many aspirants to her hand, Henry was resolved only to part with her to the highest bidder, if, indeed, he parted with her at all. The match with the Duke of Orleans was perhaps the most to his liking, but Francis demanded that she should be declared legitimate, and that was the only thing Henry was quite resolved not to do. If he had no son, all foreign princes would agree, in spite of him, in looking upon her as his rightful heir, and in view of such a contingency he could not afford to let her go out of the kingdom. His difficulties were so far understood on the continent, as to create a general apprehension that he would marry her to Cromwell.
In the midst of the universal tension, the Queen was brought to bed on the 12th October, vigil of Edward the Confessor. But so slowly did even great news travel in those days, that on the 17th, in many parts of the country, the people were still praying for a prince, while in others, vague rumours were beginning to circulate to the effect that they had one. The circumstance was not known in Brussels till the 20th, when the Emperor expressed his satisfaction, and said he thought that his cousin Mary was delivered of a great burden.[215]
At the christening of Prince Edward, “the most dearest son of King Henry,” Mary was the most prominent figure as godmother. She walked next to the canopy, under which the royal infant was carried, her train being borne by Lady Kingston. Then the chrism (for the Prince’s confirmation) “richly garnished was borne by the Lady Elizabeth, the King’s daughter, the same lady for her tender age being borne by the Viscount Beauchamp, with the assistance of the Lord Morley”. On the return of the procession from the church, Elizabeth walked by the side of Mary, who held her hand, and the Prince “was taken to the King and Queen, and had the blessing of God, our Lady and St. George, and of his father and mother”. A _Te Deum_ was sung in St. Paul’s and in other churches of the city, and great fires were made in every street. There was much “goodly banqueting, shooting of guns all day and night, and great gifts were distributed”.
The nation’s joy, which was undoubtedly deep and sincere, can hardly be said to have turned into mourning, when the news was spread that the good Queen had received the Sacraments of Penance and Extreme Unction, and was dying. It was not merely that the people had not had time to become attached to her, but the sixteenth century set no great value on human life in general, and that of a queen consort was held exceptionally cheap in England. It was a time when there might indeed be indignation for wrongs, and tears for a friend’s misfortune; but little grief was felt for bodily sufferings or death. Deeply as Katharine of Arragon was beloved by English men and women, and loudly as they expressed their sense of the injuries inflicted on her, her death would perhaps have caused little emotion, had it not been accompanied by suspicious circumstances. When Anne Boleyn went to her doom, even her friends were indifferent, although the obvious unfairness of her trial aroused pity and abhorrence. The Duke of Richmond’s funeral passed almost unnoticed; and if the executions after the Northern Rising sent a thrill of horror through the country, this was produced by butcheries such as had never before been known. That which was natural and inevitable excited little notice, and Gardiner was not more wanting in sensibility than the rest of his contemporaries, when he crudely charged the envoys to announce to the King of France, that “though the Prince is well, and sucketh like a child of his puissance, the Queen, by the neglect of those about her, who suffered her to take cold, and eat such things as her fantasy in sickness called for, is dead”.[216] He went on to say that “the King though he takes this chance reasonably, is little disposed to marry again, but some of his Council have thought it meet to urge him to it, for the sake of his realm, and he has framed his mind both to be indifferent to the thing, and to the election of any person from any part that with deliberation shall be thought meet”.
Queen Jane died on the 24th October, and in a letter to Lord Lisle on the 3rd November Sir John Wallop says: “The King is in good health, and merry as a widower may be, the Prince also”.[217]
By command of the Duke of Norfolk, twelve hundred Masses were ordered to be said for the repose of the Queen’s soul, and a solemn Dirge and Requiem were sung at St. Paul’s. Jane had died at Hampton Court, but was buried at Windsor, on the 12th November, Mary being chief mourner at her funeral, following the hearse on horseback at a foot’s pace. Her palfrey was in black velvet trappings and her train was held up by eight ladies of the highest rank.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 192: Sm., vol. xlvii., f. 26, 2. Hearne, p. 144.]
[Footnote 193: Chapuys to Charles V., 8th July 1536, Vienna Archives. Gairdner, _Cal._, xi., 40.]
[Footnote 194: Gayangos, _Cal._, vol. v., pt. ii., p. 199.]
[Footnote 195: Gairdner, _Cal._, xi., 219.]
[Footnote 196: Gairdner, _Cal._, xi., 221.]
[Footnote 197: Add. MS. 28,589, f. 44, Brit. Mus., Chapuys to the Empress, 29th Aug. 1536.]
[Footnote 198: Gayangos, _Cal._, vol. v., pt. ii., p. 157.]
[Footnote 199: See an interesting letter from Lady Bryan to Cromwell, appendix B.]
[Footnote 200: Cotton MS. Otho C. x., f. 291. Hearne, p. 131.]
[Footnote 201: Cotton MS. Otho C. x., f. 274. Hearne, p. 129.]
[Footnote 202: Cotton MS. Otho C. x., f. 292. Hearne, 132.]
[Footnote 203: Gayangos, _Cal._, vol. v., pt. ii., p. 258.]
[Footnote 204: The depositions of the malcontents often contained expressions to the effect that the country was “ruled by knaves,” and that the people thought “the Lady Mary would have a title to the Crown one day”. In the course of the examination of the ringleaders, in the Tower, after the rebellion, one of them said, “The Lady Mary ought to be favoured for her great virtues, and the statute annulled ... that she should not be made illegitimate except by the law of the whole Church, for she is marvellously beloved by the whole people” (Examination of Aske, Record Office).]
[Footnote 205: The reason given was the affinity between her mother and the King’s former mistress, Anne Boleyn’s sister. “Le statut declairant princesse légitime héritiere la fille de la concubine a este revoque, et elle [mesme] declairee bastarde, non point comme fille de maistre Norris, comme se pouvait plus honnestement dire, mais pour avoir avant este le mariage entre la dite concubine et le dit roy illégitime a cause qu’il avait cognu charnellement la sœur de la dite concubine” (Chapuys to M. de Granville, 8th July, 1536, Vienna Archives).]
[Footnote 206: State Papers, i., 537, Record Office.]
[Footnote 207: Gairdner, _Cal._, xii., 498.]
[Footnote 208: Gairdner, _Cal._, xii., 384.]
[Footnote 209: Harl. MS. 282, f. 79, Brit. Mus.]
[Footnote 210: Gayangos, _Cal._, vol. v., pt. ii., p. 267. Vienna Archives.]
[Footnote 211: Gayangos, _Cal._, vol. v., pt. ii., p. 270.]
[Footnote 212: Gayangos, _Cal._, vol. v., pt. ii., p. 272.]
[Footnote 213: Belvoir MS., Hist. MSS. Comm., vol. i., p. 309 _et seq._, Report xii., appendix iv.]
[Footnote 214: Harl. MS. 282, f. 34.]
[Footnote 215: Harl. MS. 282, f. 257.]
[Footnote 216: Record Office, State Papers, viii., 1.]
[Footnote 217: Gairdner, _Cal._, xii., pt. ii., 1023.]