THE GREAT RENUNCIATION.
1536.
Whether there was any truth or not in the sinister rumours concerning
the manner in which Katharine had come by her death, it was natural
that Mary should believe them, and prepare herself for the worst
that could befall her. As early as the 21st January, even before her
mother’s obsequies had taken place in Peterborough Cathedral, Chapuys
told his master that a new campaign had been opened.
“Now the King and the Concubine are planning in several ways to
entangle the Princess in their webs, and compel her to consent to their
damnable statutes and detestable opinions,” wrote the ambassador,
Cromwell having declared that thenceforth there remained nothing
to prevent friendship between the King and the Emperor, but Mary’s
submission. The new tactics were as puzzling as they were cruel.
Scarcely were Mary’s hopes of better times encouraged by some small
attention, such as a present of money for distribution to the poor,
on her journeys from one residence to another, when a fresh act of
petty tyranny would fill her mind with renewed apprehensions. The
occasional favours were probably intended as a blind to the Emperor,
while the insults which the unhappy girl was still made to suffer were
instances of Anne’s increasing spite and fury. Thus Cromwell, after
showing her some kindness, summoned her to deliver up a little cross
which her mother had bequeathed to her. Chapuys estimated that there
could not be ten crowns’ worth of gold in the whole trinket, which
contained no jewels, but a fragment of the true Cross to which Mary
had great devotion. “Your Majesty,” said Chapuys, in relating the
circumstance, “may judge what reliance is to be placed upon the words
of these men. I think that God will never give them grace to recognise
their error, lest they should avoid the punishment of their abominable
misdeeds.”[150]
Pending instructions from Charles, his ambassador advised the same
line of conduct which Mary had hitherto followed, urging her “to show
as good courage and constancy as ever, with requisite modesty and
dignity,” for if they began to find her at all shaken, they would
pursue her to the end, without ever leaving her in peace. He thought
that they would not insist very much now, on Mary’s openly renouncing
her rights, nor on her abjuring the Pope’s authority directly, but
would be content if she acknowledged Anne as Queen, a concession that
would not cost her much, her mother being dead. And probably this would
have been the case, if Anne Boleyn had continued to share Henry’s
throne. Chapuys told the Princess to avoid all discussion with the
King’s messengers, but to entreat them to leave her in peace, that
she might pray for her mother’s soul, and for herself, a poor, simple
orphan, without experience or counsel, ignorant of laws and canons. She
was to beseech them to intercede with her father on her behalf, and beg
him to have pity on her, and if she thought it necessary to say more,
she might add with her customary gentleness, that as it was not the
custom in England to swear fealty to queens, and that as such a thing
had not been done when her mother was held as Queen, she could not but
suspect that her swearing would be, either directly or indirectly, to
her prejudice. Moreover, if Anne Boleyn really were queen, her swearing
or refusing to swear did not matter, and if she were not, it would be
the same. By the consistorial sentence, her father’s first marriage had
been declared valid, and the second marriage annulled. It had also been
declared, that this lady could not claim the title of queen, for which
reason Mary was to say that she thought she could not in conscience go
against the Pope’s command, and that by so doing she would prejudice
her own right.[151]
The Emperor, meanwhile, communicated the news of his aunt’s death to
the Empress in the following letter:—
“Five or six days ago, the news of the demise of her most serene
Highness, the Queen of England arrived, which I felt deeply, as you
may imagine. May God receive her in Paradise, which she certainly
deserved, on account of her extreme goodness and virtue, and the
excellent life she led. About her last illness and death the accounts
differ. Some say that it was produced by a painful affection of the
stomach, which lasted upwards of ten or twelve days; others that the
distemper broke out all of a sudden, after taking some draught, and
there is a suspicion, that there was in it, that which in similar cases
is administered. I do not choose to make such an affirmation, nor do
I wish to have it repeated as coming from me, but nothing can prevent
people from judging and commenting upon the event, according to their
own feelings. Of the Princess, my cousin, I hear only that she is
inconsolable at the loss she has sustained, especially when she thinks
of her father’s past behaviour towards herself, and the little favour
she can expect for the future. I trust, however, that God will have
pity on her, and will not permit the great injustice which has been
shown her to remain without some reparation. I have put on mourning,
and ordered all the grandees round me, the high officers of this
household as well as the gentlemen of my chamber and table to do the
same, and I myself intend wearing it until I go to Rome. The exequies
have been performed here as is customary in such cases; there where you
are the same ought to be done.”[152]
But if Mary’s position was fraught with danger, Anne’s was still more
so. The woman for whose sake Henry had quarrelled with the Pope, risked
a war with the Emperor, banished his wife and daughter, executed
Fisher, More and the London Carthusians, had now ceased to charm, or
even to please him. He scarcely spoke to her for weeks together,
and those who understood his methods began to look about for the new
favourite. She was none other than Jane Seymour, one of Anne’s ladies,
whom Chapuys describes as “no great beauty, over twenty-five years old,
of middle stature, and so fair that one would call her rather pale than
otherwise”. As for her virtue, he will not pledge himself, considering
that the lady has so long frequented the English court;[153] she has,
however, one title to his goodwill, inasmuch as she has taken up the
Princess’s cause warmly. Anne’s enemies were careful that the fallen
favourite should be informed of her new cause for dread; and the
transports of joy with which she had welcomed the news of Katharine’s
death were soon turned into mourning. She was frequently seen to
weep, “fearing,” said Chapuys, “that they might do with her as with
the good Queen”. Now, at the eleventh hour, it occurred to her that
by conciliating Mary, she might avert her own doom, and she therefore
sent her word that if she would “lay aside her obstinacy, and obey her
father, Queen Anne would be the best friend in the world to her, like
another mother, and would obtain for her anything she liked to ask”. If
Mary wished to come to court, she would be exempted from holding the
tail of the Queen’s gown, and should walk by her side. Lady Shelton,
Anne’s aunt, besought the Princess with hot tears to consider the
matter, but Mary remained firm.
Anne’s rage and despair almost deprived the now wretched woman of
reason, when she found that all her efforts to win her were unavailing.
She wrote to her aunt, who, as if by accident, left the letter in
Mary’s oratory, where the Princess could not fail to see and read it.
These were its contents:—
“My pleasure is that you do not further move the Lady Mary towards the
King’s grace otherwise than it pleases herself. What I have done has
been more for charity than for anything the King or I care what road
she takes, or whether she will change her purpose, for if I have a
son, as I hope shortly, I know what will happen to her, and therefore,
considering the Word of God, to do good to one’s enemy, I wished to
warn her beforehand, because I have daily experience, that the King’s
wisdom is such, as not to esteem her repentance of her rudeness and
unnatural obstinacy, when she has no choice. By the law of God and
of the King, she ought clearly to acknowledge her error and evil
conscience, if her blind affection had not so blinded her eyes that
she will see nothing but what pleases herself. Mrs. Shelton, I beg
you not to think to do me any pleasure by turning her from any of her
wilful courses, because she could not do me good or evil; and do your
duty about her, according to the King’s commands, as I am assured you
do.”[154]
Mary, of course, saw the letter, took a copy of it for Chapuys’
instruction, and laid the original where she had found it.
Of the two women, Anne, at this juncture, inspires the deeper pity. The
overbearing tone of her letter is almost forgotten in the pathetic cry
that escapes her: “If I have a son, as I hope shortly,” a cry which
betrays the last piteous hope of one who has lost all, if this should
fail. Mary, it is true, daily prepared herself for death, which now
seemed nearer than ever; but beyond the natural love of life belonging
to youth, and to a mind and heart keenly sensitive to all the interests
that make life worth living, she did not desire it inordinately. For
years she had faced death, and had repeatedly declared that she would
rather die a hundred times than offend God, or do anything against her
honour or conscience.
Anne, on the contrary, had sacrificed everything and everybody to the
gratification of her own vanity, ambition and lightness; and now,
abandoned by the King, the scorn of the court, the laughing-stock of
the whole nation, she could but cling, a shipwrecked waif, to one poor
spar, destined, like all else, to fail her. The day of Katharine’s
funeral was a fatal day to the usurper. She had looked forward with
passionate longing to the time when her rival should cease to exist,
and leave her in undisputed possession of her queenship. And now the
time had come, and on that very day, the last vestige of hope faded
from before her eyes. Before night, the news was circulated in London
that she had miscarried, and that the King had treated her with
marked coldness. He had even declared that he had been led to marry
her by witchcraft, that he had grave doubts as to the validity of
their marriage, and as to whether he might consider himself free to
take another wife.[155] Anne sought refuge from Henry’s brutality in
recriminations, the last futile resource of the fallen. Chapuys wrote
on the 17th February:—
“The Concubine has since attempted to throw all the blame on the Duke
of Norfolk whom she hates, pretending that her miscarriage was entirely
owing to the shock she received when, six days before, the Duke
announced to her the King’s fall from his horse. But the King knows
very well that it was not that, for his accident was announced to her
in a manner not to create undue alarm, and besides, when she heard of
it she seemed quite indifferent to it.”[156]
Both Mary and Chapuys understood Henry too well to hope for better
times, even now that his aversion from Anne was complete. He would
never content himself with the simple admission that he was weary of
her to loathing, but would contrive to find some means to persuade the
world that he was justified in his resolve to be rid of her. Although
he would be obliged to admit, at least tacitly, that he had been
mistaken, in a matter in which his pride was inextricably involved,
and had sacrificed everything for a creature who had proved worthless,
it was not likely that he would make further humiliating confessions,
by owning that his treatment of Katharine and his daughter had been a
mistake also, but rather, lest his enemies should triumph, would be
prepared to send Mary to the block, as he had so often threatened.
Chapuys revived the plan, therefore, for carrying her abroad; and Mary
thought it would be easy to escape, “if she had something to drug
the women with”. She would have to pass Mistress Shelton’s window,
but once out of the house, she could easily find a way to break or
open the garden gate. So eager was she to breathe the air of freedom,
that the envoy believed, that even were he to advise her to cross the
Channel in a sieve she would do it.[157] He saw, however, that it
would be impossible for him to take an active part in her removal, as
suspicion would naturally be directed at once to him, if the scheme
were discovered. He suggested that it might be as well for him to be
recalled, before the actual attempt was made, so that the vigilance
with which the Princess was guarded might be somewhat relaxed. In
accordance with his desire, the Baron de Rœulx was sent from Flanders
with a vessel, in which Mary was to take flight, and which remained at
anchor a little below Gravesend.[158]
Mary was now at Hunsdon, fifteen miles farther from Gravesend than
Greenwich, from whence the first attempt was to have been made; and as
it was thought unsafe to bring the vessel any farther up the river,
she would be obliged to ride forty miles to reach it. This would
necessitate relays of horses, which could not be managed with such
rapidity, as to prevent the risk of discovery. Moreover, the village of
Hunsdon was crowded, and the royal fugitive would have to pass through
several such places, where pursuit would be instantaneous if suspicion
were aroused. Keen as Mary was to reach a place of safety, she was,
says Chapuys, more bent on preventing further sin and misery, than on
escaping from the dangers of her position, seeking a remedy, whereby
innumerable souls might be saved from perdition.[159] But escape was
soon found to be impossible, unless the Princess could be lodged nearer
to Gravesend; and Chapuys now began to talk of conciliation. Henry was
evidently determined to get rid of Anne, and was nothing loth to take
another wife. If he died as things were, Mary was certain to succeed;
it was, therefore, to her interest that he should not contract a true
marriage, by which he might have male issue. To this Mary replied that
she did not care how her own interests might be affected, if only her
father could be saved from the sinful life he was leading.[160]
It was perhaps to this attitude that Mary owed Jane Seymour’s espousal
of her cause. The new favourite met Henry’s advances in an exemplary
manner. The King sent her a purse full of gold pieces, and with it a
letter. After kissing the letter, she returned it to the messenger
unopened, and throwing herself on her knees, begged him to represent
to the King that she was a gentlewoman of good and honourable parents,
without reproach, and that she had no greater riches in the world than
her honour. If he wished to make her some present in money, she begged
that it might be when God enabled her to make some honourable match.
The purse was returned with the letter, and Henry’s admiration for Jane
advanced by leaps and bounds. He caused her to be told that he did not
intend henceforth to speak with her, except in the presence of some of
her kin. He then made Cromwell dislodge from a room to which he himself
had private access through certain galleries, and gave it to Jane’s
eldest brother and his wife, in order that the young lady might meet
him there in all propriety, and yet unknown to the world. “She has been
well taught,” said the astute Chapuys, “for the most part by those
intimate with the King, who hate the Concubine, that she must by no
means comply with the King’s wishes except by way of marriage, in which
she is quite firm. She is also advised to tell the King boldly how his
marriage is detested by the people, and none consider it lawful; and on
the occasion when she shall bring forward the subject, there ought to
be present none but titled persons, who will say the same, if the King
put them upon their oath of fealty.”[161]
Chapuys was greatly in favour of the projected union with Jane Seymour,
considering it “a great thing both for the security of the Princess,
and to remedy the heresies here, of which the Concubine is the cause
and principal nurse, and also to pluck the King from such an abominable
and _more than incestuous marriage_.[162] The Princess would be very
happy, even if she were excluded from her inheritance by male issue.”
Henry’s approaching divorce from Anne was hailed with general
satisfaction, the royal secrets being freely commented on by the
people, but something like consternation was felt when, on the 2nd
May, it became known that she had been arrested, and was lodged in the
Tower, in the same apartment which she had occupied at her coronation
three years before. It is happily unnecessary to discuss here the
various counts on which the miserable woman was tried and condemned,
the whole painful and revolting story having already been amply
told.[163] Great excitement prevailed throughout the country, and those
who hated Anne most were horror-struck at the scanty show of justice
that accompanied her trial. On the 17th May, Cranmer declared Elizabeth
illegitimate, pronouncing the marriage of her parents null and void
from the beginning. This was a preliminary step to Anne’s execution,
sentence of death having been passed in the secular courts. If “the
Concubine” had been really proved guilty of the grave charges of
immorality brought against her, and if her marriage had been condemned
on a sound judicial basis, there would have been few to grieve for her
fall; but Englishmen have ever been advocates of fair play, and there
was some murmuring at the mode of procedure throughout her hurried
trial. Cranmer had shown himself terrified at the possible result
to himself, for his share in her advancement, and was suspiciously
pliant in the matter of the sentence of divorce. The evidence produced
against her in court was neither confirmed nor rebutted, but some was
suppressed, as it was alleged to be unfit for decent ears.[164]
Henry’s own hypocritical and heartless conduct during the fortnight
that elapsed between Anne’s arrest and execution disgusted even his
friends. On the day of her committal to the Tower, the Duke of Richmond
went as usual to ask his father’s blessing, when Henry, with tears in
his eyes, said that both he and his sister Mary ought to thank God for
having escaped from the hands of that woman, who had planned their
death by poison, “from which I conclude,” added Chapuys, “that the King
knew something of her wicked intentions”.[165] Early in the course of
events, Chapuys wrote to the Emperor:—
“Already it sounds badly in the ears of the public, that the King,
after such ignominy and discredit as the Concubine has brought on his
head, should manifest more joy and pleasure now since her arrest and
trial, than he has ever done on other occasions; for he has daily gone
out to dine here and there with ladies, and sometimes has remained with
them till after midnight. I hear that on one occasion, returning by the
river to Greenwich, the royal barge was actually filled with minstrels
and musicians of his chamber, playing on all sorts of instruments
or singing; which state of things was by many a one compared to
the joy and pleasure a man feels in getting rid of a thin, old and
vicious hack, in the hope of getting soon a fine horse to ride—a very
peculiarly agreeable task for this King.”[166]
In the meanwhile, Jane Seymour had been sent to a house about seven
miles from London, where Henry could see her daily when he was at
Hampton Court, and on the 14th May she was lodged with semi-royal
magnificence, at a house on the Thames, in order to be near him at
Greenwich. None of these movements were lost on the people, or on
Chapuys, who expressed his opinion unreservedly that “the little
Bastard would be excluded from the succession,” and that the King would
“get himself requested by Parliament to marry”.
On the 15th, Henry sent a message to Jane, to the effect that she
would hear of Anne’s condemnation at three o’clock that afternoon, and
shortly after dinner, the words were verified. On the 19th, the day of
her execution, as soon as the news of her death was brought to him, he
entered his barge, and went to spend the day with Jane. The following
morning, they were betrothed, not married, as many writers have stated,
the marriage ceremony taking place ten days later.
Anne had persisted to the last, in the declaration of her innocence;
but the often quoted letter, supposed to have been written by her to
Henry from the Tower, and which Burnet printed[167] as authentic,
because he had found it among Cromwell’s papers, must now be considered
spurious. That it should ever have been regarded as genuine, is among
the unaccountable beliefs that have obtained concerning this much
misrepresented woman. It proclaims itself a forgery by the style
of its composition and mode of expression, entirely unlike any of
Anne’s recognised and undisputed letters. The speeches also imputed
to her before her execution must be taken with extreme caution, the
opportunity being favourable to romance writers of every subsequent
period, to invent sentiments which neither would nor could have been
uttered or recorded, so great was the terror in which Henry was held by
ministers, judges, courtiers, and the people. On the other hand, doubt
has been thrown on the authenticity of words and actions which, viewed
with their context, are, to say the least, highly probable. Thus Mr.
Friedmann, the able biographer of Anne Boleyn, while he admits that the
one thing that preyed on her mind was her conduct towards the Princess,
discredits the story of her having thrown herself at the feet of Lady
Kingston, wife of the Lieutenant of the Tower, entreating her as a
favour in like manner to throw herself at the feet of the Lady Mary,
and in her name beseech her to forgive the many wrongs she had brought
upon her.[168] But there is evidence in a letter from Mary to Cromwell,
dated 26th May 1536, that Lady Kingston was then present with her,
and it is unlikely that she would have been sent to announce Anne’s
death, unless she had some special message to deliver. In this letter,
as if in response to Anne’s petition for pardon, Mary in mentioning
her fallen enemy adds, “whom I pray our Lord of His great mercy to
forgive”.[169] Moreover, Chapuys told Cardinal Granvelle, that on her
way to the scaffold, “the Concubine declared that she did not consider
herself condemned by divine judgment, except for being the cause of the
ill-treatment of the Princess, and for having conspired her death”.[170]
Although Henry took no pains to conceal the satisfaction he felt at his
deliverance from Anne, he chose to pretend that he was heart-broken
at her wickedness, and Cranmer, whose safety depended on a servile
acquiescence in his master’s every whim, begged him “somewhat to
suppress the deep sorrows of his Grace’s heart, and do violence to
himself, by accepting with patience and cheerfulness the decrees of
Providence”.[171]
In truth, not Henry alone, but the whole nation breathed more freely,
and the horror inspired by the injustice of Anne’s trial cannot be said
to have extended to any feeling of regret for her untimely end. On the
day of her execution, Chapuys, keenly observant of all that went on at
court, and of its effect upon the nation, wrote:—
“The joy shown by this people every day, not only at the ruin of the
Concubine, but at the hope of the Princess Mary’s restoration, is
inconceivable, but as yet, the King shows no great disposition towards
the latter; indeed he has twice shown himself obstinate, when spoken
to on the subject by his Council. I hear, that even before the arrest
of the Concubine, the King, speaking with Mistress Jane Semel of
their future marriage, the latter suggested that the Princess should
be replaced in her former position; and the King told her she was a
fool, and ought to solicit the advancement of the children they would
have between them, and not any others. She replied, that by asking the
restoration of the Princess, she conceived she was seeking the rest and
tranquillity of the King, herself, her future children, and the whole
realm; for without that, neither your Majesty nor this people would
ever be content. Such a wish,” continues the ambassador, “on the part
of the said lady, is very commendable, and I purpose using all means in
my power, in keeping her to her good intentions. I also mean to go to
the King about it two or three days hence, and visit one by one, the
members of the Privy Council, and if I can personally, or by means of
my friends, influence some of the lords and gentlemen, who have been
summoned for the next Parliament, which is to meet on the 8th of next
month, I shall not fail to do so.”[172]
Chapuys did not exaggerate the nation’s joyful expectation that Mary
would be restored to favour, and that the people would be allowed to
enjoy the sight of her once more. His testimony is corroborated in
various ways, one of the most striking proofs of her popularity being
contained in a French poem, written and printed in London in the
beginning of June 1536. This poem, which gives a singularly accurate
description of Anne Boleyn’s life, promotion and disgrace, is highly
eulogistic of Mary’s goodness and charms. In expressing the universal
satisfaction displayed at the prospect of her speedy return to court,
the writer continues:—
_Et n’eussiez veu jusque aux petits enfans
Que tous chantans, et d’aise triomphans.
Il n’y a cueur si triste qui ne rye
En attendant la princesse Marie._
It was impossible for Henry to ignore the immense popular enthusiasm
of which Mary was the object, and it hampered him considerably, for
he was not by any means prepared to acknowledge himself in the wrong,
by replacing her in his good graces unconditionally. The desire of
the nation, combined with Jane’s influence and his own much-vaunted
affection, did not equal his obstinacy and vanity. Only, as the
above-mentioned poem goes on to relate, when the enthusiasm developed
into impatience, and a rumour was circulated that he had sent for her,
and had shown her kindness, did he realise that it might be prudent to
reckon with the Londoners. Fearing a disturbance, if he did not show
some sign of relenting, he sent them a condescending message, in which
he thanked them for their goodwill to him and his daughter, and held
out hopes of their speedy reconciliation.[173]
But Henry was still hedged in with difficulties, and he had far more to
consider than a mere peace-making with an eager, affectionate daughter
of twenty, whom all, except those whose interest it was to keep them
apart, agreed in praising. To give Mary back her rights without terms,
would be tantamount to submission to the Pope, whose decree he had
treated with open scorn and defiance, to humbling himself before the
Emperor, after the haughty tone he had assumed in his letters to him,
and to climbing down in the eyes of his ally, the King of France. And
while on the one hand, he would be able to secure a powerful friend by
bestowing her on a candidate of the Emperor, he would on the other,
cease to be an important factor in the game of European politics. His
strength, he knew, lay in temporising, in being considered a valuable
prize _in petto_ to Francis and Charles alternately. If he definitely
gave himself up to Charles, he would but swell the importance of the
empire, at the sacrifice of his own pride. The Emperor, when it became
known that Anne’s fall was imminent, made decided advances, promising
“to be a mean to reconcile him with the Pope”. He begged Henry to
legitimatise his daughter, and to give her a place in the succession,
and took the opportunity to request his help against the Turk, slipping
in a solicitation for his support, in accordance with an existing
treaty, in the event of an invasion of the Duchy of Milan, by the
French King.
Henry’s reply, through Chapuys, was lofty and cleverly worded. The
interruption of their friendship, he declared to Pate, his ambassador
at the imperial court, proceeded from the Emperor, “who, although we
made him King of Spain and afterwards Emperor, when the empire was
at our disposal, and afterwards lent him money, so that he can thank
only us for his present honor, has showed us all the ingratitude he
could devise, both in contemning our friendship, when we have done more
for his satisfaction in our proceedings than needed, and in procuring
injury and displeasure against us at the hands of the Bishop of Rome;
yet, if he will by his express writings desire us to forget his unkind
doings, or declare that what we consider unkindness has been wrongly
imputed to him, we will gladly embrace the overture for the renewal of
amity; but as we have sustained the injury, we would not be a suitor
for reconciliation, nor treat of anything till our amity is simply and
without any conditions renewed. If he will first accomplish this, he
need not doubt that friendly and reasonable answers will be given to
all his reasonable desires. To his overtures touching the Bishop of
Rome, we answered that we have not proceeded upon such slight grounds
that we could revoke or alter any part of our doing, having made our
foundation upon the laws of God, nature and honesty, and established
our works thereon, by the consent of all the estates of our realm,
in open and high court of Parliament. A proposal has been made to us
by the Bishop of Rome himself, which we have not yet embraced, and
it would not be expedient to have it compassed by any other means.
We should not think the Emperor earnestly desired a reconciliation
with us, if he moved us to alter anything for the satisfaction of the
Bishop of Rome, our enemy. As to the legitimatation of our daughter
Mary, if she will submit to our grace, without wrestling against the
determination of our laws, we will acknowledge her and use her as our
daughter; but we would not be directed or pressed herein, nor have any
other order devised for her entertainment, than should proceed from
the inclination of our own heart, being moved by her humility, and the
gentle proceedings of such as pretend to be her friends. God has not
only made us King by inheritance, but has given us wisdom, policy, and
other graces in most plentiful sort, necessary for a prince to direct
his affairs by, to his honor and glory; and we doubt not, the Emperor
thinks it meet for us to order things here without search of foreign
advice, as for him or any other prince to determine their affairs
without our counsel. We trust that we have proceeded in all that we
have enterprised with such circumspection, that no one who looks with
an indifferent eye upon our foundation, which is God’s law, shall have
cause to be miscontented, but rather judge of us as a most Christian,
prudent, victorious and politic prince. If princes, by reason of
foreign marriages should be directed in the ordering of their issue by
the parents or allies of their wives, and, as it were, controlled, as
if they had committed themselves by such marriages to other princes’
‘_arbitres_,’ who can by no means know the truth of their proceedings,
the servitude thereof would appear so great, that wisdom would allow
no prince to marry out of his realm. Notwithstanding such marriages,
princes have meddled but little in foreign affairs, unless the title
of inheritance has descended thereby to them. We doubt not, that the
Emperor will not intricate himself with our affairs more than he
honourably may, and agreeably to the amity which should be between
Christian princes.”[174]
To this the Emperor replied in a long letter, the conclusion of which
ran:—
“As to the Princess, our cousin, we also hold that the King will act
like a good and natural father, especially considering her great
virtues and good qualities; but our near relationship, and the great
worth of the said Princess, compel us to urge the King to have a
fatherly regard for her. Nor does it seem unreasonable that kinsmen
should intercede with fathers for their children; and we do so all
the more, because we have always thought, that if the King has in
any degree withheld his favour from her, it has not been of his own
motion, but by sinister reports of others. So we think he will take
our intercession in good part, as we would do in the case of our own
children, of whom, if he consolidate this amity, we shall consider him
another father.”[175]
The Emperor’s compliments with reference to Henry’s “fatherly regard”
for Mary were not altogether insincere. Her position had been made
less humiliating in various ways. In March, it was observed that
Cromwell, in speaking of her, put his hand to his cap, and the
secretary, Pate, emboldened by the turn affairs had taken, expressed
his ardent desire that the King “would not suffer that redolent flower
to be deprived of the sun’s warmth, and to wither away”.[176]
The change was, no doubt, to be attributed to Jane Seymour’s influence,
as far as it went, but it was never very great, her power never being
equal to her will to help Mary, who was not slow to perceive that a
crisis was imminent; and buoyed up with hope, as soon as an opportunity
occurred, she wrote to Cromwell:—
“MASTER SECRETARY,
“I would have been a suter to you before this time, to have been
a mean for me to the King’s grace my father, to have obtained his
Grace’s blessing and favour; but I perceived that nobody durst
speak for me, as long as that woman lived which now is gone, whom
I pray our Lord of his great mercy to forgive. Wherefore, now she
is gone, I am the bolder to write to you, as she which taketh you
for one of my chief friends. And, therefore, I desire you, for the
love of God, to be a suitor for me to the King’s grace, to have
his blessing, and licence to write unto his grace, which shall be
a great comfort for me, as God knoweth, who have you evermore in
his holy keeping. Moreover, I must desire you to accept mine evil
writing. For I have not done so much this two year and more, nor
could not have found the meanes to do it at this time, but by my
Lady Kingston’s being here.
“At Hounsdon, the 26 of May (1536).
“By your loving friend
“MARYE.”[177]
The series of letters which follow on this simple, natural effusion
are of so painful a character, that were it not necessary for the
clear understanding of the impending crisis in Mary’s life, to print
them here entire, the temptation would be great to pass them over with
a general indication of their contents. But the matter is one that
may not be dealt with superficially, and the text of the somewhat
discursive correspondence which passed between Mary, Cromwell and
Henry is indispensable if we would estimate the extent of the mental
torture the Princess was called upon to undergo, at the very time when
she hoped that her worst trials were over. Her father’s tyranny, far
from having exhausted its resources, culminated in an act so brutal,
that it removes him for ever beyond the pale of humanity. It is a
question whether, in all Mary’s sad and troubled life, the saddest
moment was not now approaching. Gradually, the bright, eager tone of
her letters dies down, and, in place of the hopeful strain, is one of
abject grovelling at Henry’s feet. The later letters of the series
are, indeed, written either from Cromwell’s dictation, or are copied
from his drafts, but the pen is Mary’s; and the fact that she was now
brought to renounce, at least formally, her birthright, her pious faith
in her mother’s honour and dignity, together with all that she held
most dear, places her in a position than which there could hardly be a
more painful. But nothing short of this total abandonment of herself
to his despotic will would satisfy the “most Christian, prudent,
victorious and politic prince,” her father.[178]
Cromwell’s answer to the above letter has not been preserved, but its
tenor may be inferred by another from the Princess Mary, dated the 30th
May:—
“MASTER SECRETARY,
“In as hearty manner as I can devise, I recommend me unto you, as
she which thinketh her self much bound unto you, for the great
pain and labour that you have taken for me, and specially for
obtaining of the King my father’s blessing and licence to write
unto his Grace; which are two of the highest comforts that ever
came to me: desiring you of your gentle and friendly continuance
in your suit for me, wherein (next unto God) I trust you shall
find me as obedient to the King’s grace as you can reasonably
require of me. Wherefore I have a great hope in your goodness,
that by your wisdom, help and means, his Grace shall not only
withdraw his displeasure, but also that it may like his Grace (if
it may stand with his gracious pleasure) to licence me to come
into his presence, for the which I pray you in the honour of God
to be a continual suitor for me, when your discretion shall think
the time most convenient. For it is the thing which I ever have
and do desire above all worldly things. And in all these things,
good Mr. Secretary, for the love of him that all comfort sendeth,
I beseech you to be my most humble petitioner, and that in like
case (I take God to be my Judge) I would be for you, if the same
did lie in my power. And thus I must desire you to accept this
short and evil written letter. For the rheum in my head will
suffer me to write no more at this time. Wherefore I pray you in
all things to give credence to this bearer; and with this end I
commit you to Almighty God, whom I shall pray to be with you in
everything that you go about. From Hounsden, the 30 day of May
(1536).
“By your bounden loving friend
MARYE.”[179]
In accordance with the permission obtained, two days later Mary wrote
to her father:—
“In as humble and lowly a manner as is possible for a child to use
to her father and sovereign Lord, I beseech your Grace of your
daily blessing, which is my chief desire in this world. And in the
same humble wise knowledging all the offences that I have done to
your Grace, since I had first discretion to offend unto this hour,
I pray your Grace, in the honour of God, and for your fatherly
pity to forgive me them; for the which I am as sorry as any
creature living; and next unto God, I do and will submit me in all
things to your goodness and pleasure, to do with me whatsoever
shall please your Grace, humbly beseeching your Highness to
consider that I am a woman and your child, who hath committed her
soul to God, and her body to be ordered in this world, as it shall
stand with your pleasure; whose order and direction, whatsoever it
shall please your Highness to limit and direct to me I shall most
humbly and willingly stand content to follow, obey and accomplish
in all points. And so in the lowliest manner that I can, I beseech
your Grace to accept me, your humble daughter, which doth not a
little rejoice to hear the comfortable tidings, not only to me,
but to all your Grace’s realm, concerning the marriage which is
between your Grace and the Queen, now being your Grace’s wife, my
mother-in-law. The hearing whereof caused nature to constrain me
to be an humble suitor to your Grace, to be so good and gracious
Lord and father to me, as to give me leave to wait upon the Queen,
and to do her Grace such service as shall please her to command
me, which my heart shall be as ready and obedient to fulfill
(next unto your Grace) as the most humble servant that she hath.
Trusting in your Grace’s mercy to come into your presence, which
ever hath and shall be the greatest comfort that I can have within
this world; having also a full hope in your Grace’s natural pity,
which you have allwayes used as much or more than any Prince
christened, that your Grace will show the same upon me your most
humble and obedient daughter; who daily prayeth God to have your
Grace in his holy keeping, with a long life, and as much honour as
ever had king, and to send your Grace shortly a Prince, whereof
no creature living shall more rejoice or heartlier pray for
continually than I, as my duty bindeth me.
“From Hounsdon, the first day of June (1536).
“By your Grace’s most humble daughter and handmaid,
“MARYE.”[180]
Humble as were these petitions, they elicited no reply from Henry,
and Mary waited in vain for a word of kindness. Gradually it was
borne in upon her, that the favour which she so earnestly implored,
and which seemed to her so simple and easy a thing for the King to
grant, would only be bestowed at the price of a sacrifice too heavy
for her conscience to bear. Her contrition for past offences must not
only be general, and such as any child might express to any father,
but circumstantial and precise, affecting the vital principles for
which she had struggled for four years. On the 6th June, Chapuys
told the Emperor, that in an interview with Cromwell, the Secretary
had declared it to be absolutely necessary that Mary should write a
letter, according to a draft which he (Cromwell) had prepared, “in the
most honourable and reasonable form that could be”. He had, he said,
by the King’s command, sent a very confidential lady to solicit the
Princess to do this, and that to avoid scruple, he wished that Chapuys
would write to her, and send one of his principal servants to persuade
her to make no difficulties about writing the said letter, which he
intended to have translated from English into Latin, that Chapuys might
see that it was quite honourable. There was, Chapuys thought, “some
bird-catching attempted,” and he warned Mary. But meanwhile Cromwell
visited him at his lodging, and told him that the King and Queen were
wonderfully well pleased at the letters which Mary had written, in
which, however, the ambassador told Charles that there was nothing
corresponding to Cromwell’s draft, nor anything that could prejudice
her.
Mary’s next two letters, the one addressed to the chief Secretary, the
other to Henry, dated respectively the 7th and 8th June, were evidently
written in an agony of suspense, and of that hope deferred which
“afflicteth the soul”.
“GOOD MR. SECRETARY,
“I think so long to hear some comfort from the King’s grace my
father, whereby I may perceive his Grace of his princely goodness
and fatherly pity to have accepted my letter, and withdrawn his
displeasure towards me, that nature moveth me to be so bold to
send his Grace a token, which my servant this bearer hath to
deliver to you, or to any other at your appointment, desiring
you (for the love of God) to find some meanes by your wisdom
and goodness, that the King may be so good and gracious Lord to
me, as to send me a token; which I assure you, shall be one of
my greatest worldly comforts, till it shall please his Grace
to license me to come into his most desired presence; the sute
whereof my full trust is in you, that you will not forgett, when
you shall see the time convenient. And thus I commit you to God,
whom I both do and shall dayly pray to reward you, for your great
paines and labours taken at all times for me.
“From Hownsdon the 7 day of June (1536).
“By your assured and loving friend during my life,
“MARYE.”[181]
Her letter to the King ran thus:—
“In as humble and lowly manner as is possible for me, I beseech
your Grace of your daily blessing, by the obtaining whereof, with
licence also to write unto your Grace, albeit I understand to mine
inestimable comfort, that your princely goodness and fatherly
pity hath forgiven all mine offences, and withdrawn your dreadful
displeasure, long time conceived against me, yet shall my joy
never be full, nor my hope satisfied unto such time as your Grace
vouchsafe more sensibly to express your reconciled heart, love
and favour towards me, either by your gracious letters, or else
some token, till I may by your merciful calling and sufferance
attain the fruition of your most desired presence; for the which,
I humbly desire your Grace to pardon me, though I trouble you
with my continual sute and rude writing; for nature will suffer
me to do none otherwise: and that obtained, I shall have my chief
worldly joy and desire, as I take Almighty God to my record, whom
I do and shall daily pray (as I am bound by my duty) to preserve
your Grace and the Queen with long life and much honour, and
shortly to send a Prince between you both. Which shall be gladder
tidings to me than I can express with writing.
“From Hownsdon the viii. day of June. By your Grace’s most humble
and obedient daughter and handmaid,
“MARYE.”[182]
The above is the last of this series of letters which Mary wrote to her
father without help or suggestion from Cromwell. Abject as was the tone
of them all, Cromwell, anxious, for reasons of his own, to make peace
between Henry and his daughter, saw clearly that this would not be
effected, unless she could be brought categorically to declare herself
illegitimate. The King was determined on it, in order that failing
legitimate male issue, he might have some show of reason for putting
his natural son, the Duke of Richmond, forward as his successor.
This project could be furthered by nothing that she had hitherto
written, and the chief Secretary now began to give her advice as to
the wording of her appeals. The result of this advice was a letter
written on the 10th June, the beginning and end of which were little
else than repetitions of her former expressions of sorrow for past
offences, desire for forgiveness and admission into the King’s “most
noble presence”. But in the middle occurs this sentence: “Eftsoones
therefore, most humbly prostrate before your noble feet, your most
obedient subject and humble child, that hath not only repented her
offences hitherto, but also decreed simply from henceforth and wholly
_next to Almighty God_, to put my state, continuance and living in
your gracious mercy, and likewise to accept the condition of your
disposition and appointment, whatsoever it shall be”.[183]
This letter she sent to Cromwell with the following:—
“GOOD MASTER SECRETARY,
“I do send you by this bearer, my servant, both the King’s
highness’ letter sealed, and the copy of the same again to you,
whereby I trust you shall perceive that I have followed your
advice and counsell, and will do in all things concerning my duty
to the King’s Grace (God and my conscience not offended) for I
take you for one of my chief friends, next unto his Grace and
the Queen. Wherefore, I desire you, for the passion which Christ
suffered for you and me, and as my very trust is in you, that you
will find such meanes through your great wisdome, that I be not
moved to agree to any further entry in this matter than I have
done. For I assure you, by the faith that I owe to God, I have
done the uttermost that my conscience will suffer me; and I do
neither desire nor intend to do less than I have done. But if I be
put to any more (I am plain with you as with my great friend) my
said conscience will in no wayes suffer me to consent thereunto.
And this point except, you nor any other shall be so much desirous
to have me obey the King, as I shall be ready to fulfill the same.
For I promise you (as I desire God to help me at my most need) I
had rather loose the life of my body, than displease the King’s
Grace willingly. Sir, I beseech you for the love of God to take
in good worth this rude letter. For I would not have troubled you
so much at this time, but that the end of your letter caused me a
little to fear that I shall have more business hereafter. And thus
I commit you to God, whom I do and shall dayly pray to be with you
in everything that you go about. From Hownsdon the x. of June.
“Your assured bounden loving friend during my life,
“MARYE.”[184]
Mary’s surmises were correct. “More business” was pending, and
meanwhile her letters only gave dissatisfaction. The contents of
Cromwell’s answer to the above can be gathered from the Princess’s
letter of the 13th June.
“GOOD MR. SECRETARY,
“I do thank you with all my heart, for the great pain and suit
you have had for me. For the which I think myself very much bound
to you. And whereas I do perceive by your letters, that you do
mislike mine exception in my letter to the King’s Grace, I assure
you, I did not mean as you do take it. For I do not mistrust that
the King’s goodness will move me to do anything which should
offend God and my conscience. But that which I did write was only
by the reason of continual custome. For I have allwayes used, both
in writing and speaking, to except God in all things.
“Nevertheless, because you have exhorted me to write to his Grace
again, and I cannot devise what I should write more but your own
last copy, without adding or minishing; therefore I do send you
by this bearer, my servant, the same, word for word; and it is
unsealed, because I cannot endure to write another copy. For the
pain in my head and teeth hath troubled me so sore these two or
three dayes, and doth yet so continue, that I have very small
rest, day or night. Wherefore I trust in your goodness, that you
will accept this, and find such meanes by your wisdome, that the
King’s Grace may do the same. Which thing I desire you in the
honour of God to procure, as my very trust is in you. For I know
none to make suit unto, nor to ask counsell of but only you, whom
I commit to God, desiring him to help you in all your business.
From Hounsdon the 13 day of June (1536).
“Your assured bounden loving friend during my life,
“MARYE.”
Cromwell’s draft, which the Princess copied “word for word” ran:—
“In my most humble and lowly manner, beseeching your Graces dayly
blessing. Forasmuch as sithens it pleased your most gracious mercy
upon mine hearty repentance for mine offences and trespasses to
your Majestie, and mine humble and simple submission to the same,
of my life, state and condition, to be gladly received at your
Highness hand and appointment, whatsoever the same shall think
convenient for me, without the remainder of any will in myself,
but such as shall be instilled from the most noble mouth of your
excellent Majestie, to grant me licence to write unto you: albeit
I have written twice unto your highness, trusting to have, by some
gracious letters, token or message, perceived sensibly the mercy,
clemency and pity of your Grace, and upon the operation of the
same, at the last also to have attained the fruition of your most
noble presence, which above all worldly things I desire: yet I
have not obtained my said fervent and hearty desire, ne any peice
of the same to my great and intolerable discomfort I am enforced,
by the compulsion of nature, eftsones to cry unto your mercifull
eares, and most humbly prostrate before your feet, to beseech your
Grace to have pity and compassion of me, and in such wise to put
apart your displeasure, justly conceived against me, as I may feel
some piece of your most abundant grace, that hath never wanted to
them that have inwardly repented their offences, not committed
by malice, but by yonghe frailty and ignorance. For yet I remain
almost void of all hope, saving the confidence I have in your
blessed nature recomforteth me. And therefore eftsones, prostrate
at your noble feet I beseech your Majestie to countervail my
transgressions with my repentance for the same, and thereupon to
grant some little spark of my most humble suit and desire, which
(God is my judge) I desire for no worldly respect, trusting in
Almighty God, to use myself so from henceforth as your Grace shall
have cause to think your mercy and pity well extended unto me. To
whom I shall daily pray (as I am most bounden) to preserve your
Highness, with the Queen, and shortly to send you issue, which
shall be gladder tidings to me than I can express in writing.
“From Hunsdon the xiii day of June.
“Your most humble and obedient daughter and handmaid,
“MARYE.“[185]
It was clearly anticipated that Mary’s progress, by almost
imperceptible degrees, from vague expressions of repentance to a
definite surrender of her will for the future, would have prepared the
victim for the final _coup_. Immediately after receiving the above
transcript of Cromwell’s draft, Henry sent commissioners to Hunsdon,
summoning her to accept the new statute, and to affix her signature to
a statement, declaring her own illegitimacy, which had been drawn up
with the most ruthless and humiliating detail.
To Henry’s fury and Cromwell’s consternation Mary refused to sign. The
Chief Secretary had pledged himself to reduce her to submission, and
he knew by experience, that with his master, failure spelt treason,
and he trembled accordingly. His answer to Mary’s appeals was brutal
in the extreme, yet knowing as we do by the light of after events,
that he was not only arrested, but condemned and executed for far less
than complicity in Mary’s disobedience, we can scarcely wonder at his
tone towards her. None, with the single exception perhaps of Cranmer,
knew Henry so well as his chief minister, and to know him was with all
time-servers to fear exceedingly.
“MADAM [he wrote],
“I have received your letters, whereby it appeareth you be in
great discomfort, and do desire that I should find the means to
speak with you. For answer whereunto, ye shall understand, that
how great so ever your discomfort is, it can be no greater than
mine, who hath upon your letters spoken so much of your repentance
for your wilfull obstinacy against the King’s Highness, and of
your humble submission in all things, without exception and
qualification, to obey to his pleasure and laws, that knowing how
diversely and contrarily you proceeded at the late being of his
Majesty’s counsell with you, I am both ashamed of that I have
said, and likewise afraid of that I have done; in so much that
what the sequel thereof shall be God knoweth. Thus with your folly
you undoe yourself, and all that hath wished your good; and yet I
will say unto you, as I have said else where heretofore; that it
were great pity ye should not be an example in a punishment, if ye
will make yourself an example in the contempt of God, your natural
father and his lawes, by your own only fantasie, contrary to the
judgements and determinations of all men, that ye must confess do
know and love God as well as you, except you will show yourself
presumption. [Hearne says: “Evidently a mistake for presumptuous
as in the margin of Dr. Smith’s copy”.] Wherefore, Madam, to be
plain with you, as God is my witnes, like as I think you the most
obstinate and obdurate woman all things considered, that ever was,
and one that so persevering, well deserveth the reward of malice
in extremity of mischief: so I dare not open my lips to name you,
unless I may have such a ground thereunto, that it may appear you
were mistaken, or at least that you be both repentant for your
ingratitude and miserable unkindness, and ready to do all things
that ye be bound unto by your duty of allegiance, if nature were
secluded from you, and in a like degree planted in the same, as it
is in every other common subject. And therefore, I have sent unto
you a certain book of articles whereunto if you will sett your
name, you shall undoubtedly please God, being the same conformable
to his truth, so as you will in semblable manner conceive it in
your heart without dissimulation. Upon the receipt whereof again
from you, with a letter declaring that you think in heart that you
have subscribed with hand, I shall eftsones adventure to speak for
your reconciliation. And if you will not with speed leave all your
sinister counsells, which have brought you to the point of utter
undoing, without remedy, and herein follow mine advice, I take
my leave of you for ever, and desire you never to write or make
mean unto me hereafter. For I will never think you other than the
most ungrateful, unnatural and most obstinate person living, both
to God and your most dear and benign father. And I advise you to
nothing, but I beseech God never to help me, if I know it not so
certainly to be your bounden duty, by God’s laws and man’s laws,
that I must needs judge that person that shall refuse it, not meet
to live in a Christian congregation; to the witness whereof I take
Christ, whose mercy I refuse, if I write anything unto you that I
have not professed in my heart and know to be true.”[186]
We are indebted to Chapuys’ letter to the Emperor, dated 1st July 1536,
for a detailed account of the matter that had excited Cromwell’s ire.
“When the Princess, having written several good letters to the King
her father and to this Queen, expected to be out of her trouble,
trusting to the hope held out to her, she found herself in the most
extreme perplexity and danger she had ever been in, and not only
herself, but all her principal friends. The King, seven or eight days
after the departure of the man whom I sent to your Majesty, took a
fancy to insist that the Princess should consent to his statutes, or
he would proceed by rigour of law against her, and to induce her to
yield, sent to her the duke of Norfolk, the earl of Sussex, the bishop
of Chester and certain others, whom she confounded by her wise and
prudent answers, till they, seeing that they could not conquer her in
argument, told her that since she was so unnatural as to oppose the
King’s will so obstinately, they could scarcely believe she was his
bastard, and if she was their daughter, they would beat her and knock
her head so violently against the wall, that they would make it as soft
as baked apples, and that she was a traitress and should be punished,
and several other words. And her _gouvernante_ was commanded not to
allow any one to speak to her, and that she and another should never
lose sight of her, day or night. Nevertheless, the said Princess found
means to send me immediate information of everything, begging me not to
leave her without counsel in her extreme necessity.
“On this I wrote to her very fully, telling her among other things,
that she must make up her mind, if the King persisted in his
obstinacy, or she found evidence that her life was in danger, either
by maltreatment or otherwise, to consent to her father’s wish,
assuring her that such was your advice, and that to save her life,
on which depended the peace of the realm, and the redress of the
great evils which prevail here, she must do everything, and dissemble
for some time, especially, as the protestations made, and the cruel
violence shown her, preserved her rights inviolate, and likewise her
conscience, seeing that nothing was required expressly against God, or
the articles of the Faith, and God regarded more the intention than
the act; and that now she had more occasion to do thus than during the
life of the Concubine, as it was proposed to deprive the Bastard,
and make her heiress; and I felt assured that if she came to Court,
she would by her wisdom set her father again in the right road, to
which the intercession of your Majesty through the reconciliation and
establishment of amity would conduce.”[187]
The King suspected that Mary was advised to hold out by certain of
her attendants, and made strict inquiries. Several of her ladies
were called before the Council, and made to swear to the statutes.
The wife of her Chamberlain, whom Chapuys designates as “one of the
most virtuous ladies in England,” was sent to the Tower, while Mary’s
chief confidential servant was detained for two days in Cromwell’s
house. The Council sat for six or seven days from morning till night
without intermission, deliberating on Mary’s fate. Cromwell, suspected
of having shown himself too favourable to the Princess, was not free
from danger. He told Chapuys that for four or five days he looked upon
himself as a lost man and dead. The Marquis of Exeter and the Lord
Treasurer, Fitzwilliam, were dismissed from the Council as Mary’s
friends, and the new Queen, Jane Seymour, was rudely repulsed for
speaking in her favour. Continuing the above letter, Chapuys said:—
“The judges, in spite of threats, refused to decide, and advised that
a writing should be sent to the Princess, and that if she refused to
sign it they should proceed against her. The Princess being informed
from various quarters how matters stood, signed the document without
reading it. For her better excuse, I had previously sent her the form
of the protestation she must make apart. I had also warned her that she
must in the first place secure the King’s pardon, and, if possible,
not give her approval to the said statutes, except so far as she
could do so agreeably to God and her conscience, or that she should
promise only not to infringe the said statute, without expressing
approval. I have not yet ascertained how the thing has passed, but,
in any case, she never made a better day’s work, for if she had let
this opportunity slip, there was no remedy in the world for her. As
soon as the news arrived of her subscription, incredible joy was shown
in all the Court, except by the earl of Essex, who told the King that
was a game that would cost him his head, for the injurious language
he had used against the Princess. After the Princess had signed the
document she was much dejected, but I immediately relieved her of every
doubt even of conscience, assuring her that the Pope would not only
not impute to her any blame, but would hold it rightly done. Since the
Princess subscribed the said document, the King sent back the above
commissioners with others, among whom was Master Cromwell, who was
charged by the King to carry to her a most gracious letter, and also,
according to the custom of the country, another with the paternal
blessing, and they all offered her the highest possible honour,
addressing her almost continually kneeling upon the ground, especially
asking her pardon for their previous conduct. The Princess remains very
happy, especially on account of the goodwill Cromwell bears her in the
promotion of her affairs. She is only anxious as to how your Majesty
will be satisfied with what she has done. And now that she has done
it, on my assurance that it was the will of your Majesty, yet it would
be a marvellous consolation to her to know it by letters from you. She
has also desired me to write to your Majesty’s ambassador at Rome, to
procure a secret absolution from the Pope, otherwise her conscience
could not be at perfect ease.”[188]
The document to which Henry finally summoned his daughter to affix her
signature was drawn up in the following terms:—
“The confession of me the Lady Mary, made upon certain points and
articles under written, in the which as I do now plainly and with
all mine heart confess and declare mine inward sentence, belief and
judgment, with a due conformity of obedience to the laws of the realm;
so minding for ever to persist and continue in this determination,
without change, alteration or varyance, I do most humbly beseech the
King’s Highness, my father, whom I have obstinately and inobediently
offended in the denyal of the same heretofore, to forgive mine offences
therein, and to take me to his most gracious mercy. First, I confess
and knowledge the King’s Majesty to be my Soveraign Lord and King, in
the imperial Crown of this realme of England, and do submit myself
to his Highness, and to all and singular lawes and statutes of this
realm, as becometh a true and faithfull subject to do; which I shall
also obey, keep, observe, advance and maintain, according to my bounden
duty, with all the power, force and qualities that God hath induced me,
during my life.
“_Item._—I do recognize, accept, take, repute and knowledge the
King’s Highness to be supream head in earth under Christ of the
Church of England, and do utterly refuse the Bishop of Rome’s
pretended authority, power and jurisdiction within this Realm
heretofore usurped, according to the laws and statutes made in
that behalf, and of all the King’s true subjects, humbly received,
admitted, obeyed, kept and observed. And also do utterly renounce
and forsake all manner of remedy, interest and advantage which
I may by any means claim by the Bishop of Rome’s laws, process,
jurisdiction or sentence, at this present time or in any wise
hereafter, by any manner, title, colour, mean or case that is,
shall, or can be devised for that purpose.
“MARYE.
“_Item._—I do freely, frankly and for the discharge of my duty
towards God, the King’s Highness and his laws, without other
respect, recognize and acknowledge that the marriage heretofore
had between his Majesty and my mother, the late Princess dowager,
was by God’s law and man’s law incestuous and unlawfull.
“MARYE.”[189]
Thus was the great renunciation made. It was probably the worst thing
that Mary did in her whole life, for there is nothing in her history
on record to compare with this violation of her conscience, and of all
that she held most sacred. To excuse her on the score that she never
gave interior consent to the sacrifice of her mother’s honour and her
own faith would be but a miserable apology. She yielded indeed less to
Cromwell’s threats, than to the Emperor’s specious arguments, and to
the wretchedness of her own forlorn condition; but her intellect and
mental and moral training were such that she was able to appreciate
to the full the extent of her fall, and it would be doing her a poor
service to attempt to palliate her guilt.
Cromwell prepared yet another letter for the hapless victim to copy,
for having drunk the bitter cup to the dregs, she was now required to
thank her father humbly for the boon. The passionless utilitarian mind
of the Chief Secretary was not bent on causing Mary more pain than was
necessary to bring about and perfect the reconciliation which he had
set himself to accomplish. He was not wantonly cruel; but he understood
Henry, and knew that neither his own head nor Mary’s was safe, until
the royal vanity was fed to repletion. He therefore caused her to write
the following letter to her father on the 15th June, after having
signed the articles:—
“Most humbly prostrate before the feet of your most excellent
Majestie, your most humble, faithfull and obedient subject, which
hath so extremely offended your most gracious Highness that mine
heavy and fearfull heart dare not presume to call you father, ne
your Majesty hath any cause by my deserts, saving the benignity
of your most blessed nature doth surmount all evils, offences and
trespasses, and is ever mercifull and ready to accept the penitent
calling for grace in any convenient time. Having received this
thursday at night certain letters from Mr. Secretary, as well
advising me to make mine humble submission immediately to your
self, which because I durst not without your gracious licence
presume to do before I lately sent unto him, as signifying that
your most mercifull heart and fatherly pity had granted me your
blessing, with condition that I should persevere in that I had
commenced and begun, and that I should not eftsones offend
your Majesty by the denyal or refusal of any such articles and
commandments as it may please your Highness to address unto me
for the perfect tryal of mine heart and inward affection. For the
perfect declaration of the bottom of my heart and stomack, first I
knowledge my self to have most unkindly and unnaturally offended
your most excellent Highness, in that I have not submitted myself
to your most just and vertuous laws, and for mine offence therein,
which I must confess were in me a thousand fold more grievous,
than they could be in any other living creature. I put my self
wholly and entirely to your gracious mercy, at whose hand I
cannot receive that punishment for the same that I have deserved.
Secondly, to open mine heart to your Grace in these things which
I have hitherto refused to condescend unto, and have now written
with mine own hand sending the same to your Highness herewith. I
shall never beseech your Grace to have pity and compassion of me,
if ever you shall perceive that I shall prevyly or apertly vary
or alter from one peice of that I have written and subscribed, or
refuse to confirm, ratifie or declare the same where your Majesty
shall appoint me. Thirdly, as I have and shall, knowing your
excellent learning, virtue, wisdom and knowledge, put my soul into
your direction, and by the same hath and will in all things from
henceforth direct my conscience, so my body I do wholly commit to
your mercy and fatherly pity; desiring no state, no condition nor
no manner degree of living, but such as your Grace shall appoint
unto me; knowledging and confessing that my state cannot be so
vile as either the extremity of justice would appoint unto me, or
as my offences have required and deserved; and whatsoever your
Grace shall command me to do, touching any of these points, either
for things past, present or to come, I shall as gladly do the same
as your Majesty can command me. Most humbly therefore, beseeching
your mercy, most gracious soveraign Lord and benign father, to
have pity and compassion of your miserable and sorrowfull child,
and with the abundance of your inestimable goodness to overcome
mine iniquities towards God, your Grace, and your whole realm,
as I may feel some sensible token of reconciliation, which, God
is my Judge, I only desire without any respect. To whom I shall
dayly pray for the preservation of your Highness, with the Queen’s
grace, and that it may please him to send you issue. From Hownsdon
at 11 of the clock at night. Your grace’s most humble and obedient
daughter and handmaid,
“MARYE.”[190]
Henry was now pleased to accept Mary’s holocaust, and intimated to her
his forgiveness. Cromwell’s hand is again evident in her reply. Even
now, if left to her own expressions of affection, she might fail to
attain to the proper degree of servility. On the 26th June she wrote:—
“Most humbly, obediently and gladly, lying at the feet of your
most excellent Majesty, my most dear and benigne soveraigne Lord.
I have this day perceived your gracious clemency and mercifull
pity to have overcome my most unkind and unnatural proceedings
towards you and your most just and vertuous lawes; the great and
inestimable joy, whereof I cannot express ne have any thing worthy
to be again presented to your Majesty for the same your fatherly
pity extended towards me, most ingrately on my part abandoned,
as much as in me lay; but my poor heart, which I send unto your
Highness, to remain in your hand, to be for ever used, directed
and framed, whiles God shall suffer life to remain in it, at your
only pleasure; most humbly beseeching your Grace to accept and
receive the same, being all that I have to offer, which shall
never alter, vary or change from that confession and submission
which I have made unto your Highness in the presence of your
council and others attending upon the same; for whose preservation
with my most gracious mother the Queen, I shall daily pray to God,
whom eftsones I beseech to send you issue, to his honour and the
comfort of your whole realm.
“From Hounsdon the 26 day of June.
“Your Grace’s most humble and obedient daughter and handmaid,
“MARYE.”[191]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 150: Gairdner, _Cal._, x., 141.]
[Footnote 151: Gairdner, _Cal._, x., 141.]
[Footnote 152: Gayangos, _Cal._, vol. v., pt. ii., p. 33, Charles V. to
the Empress, Naples, 1st Feb. 1536.]
[Footnote 153: Gairdner, _Cal._, x., 901. “The said Semel” (Seymour),
he continues, “is not a woman of great wit, but she may have good
understanding.... She bears great love and reverence to the Princess. I
know not if honours will make her change hereafter.”]
[Footnote 154: Gairdner, _Cal._, x., 307. The original letter, in
French, is in the Vienna Archives.]
[Footnote 155: Gairdner, _Cal._, x., 351.]
[Footnote 156: Gayangos, _Cal._, vol. v., pt. ii., p. 39.]
[Footnote 157: Gairdner, _Cal._, x., 307.]
[Footnote 158: _Ibid._]
[Footnote 159: _Ibid._]
[Footnote 160: _Anne Boleyn_, vol. ii., p. 227.]
[Footnote 161: Gairdner, _Cal._, x., 601.]
[Footnote 162: Gairdner, _Cal._, x., 601. The ambassador refers here
not to Henry’s former connection with Anne’s sister Mary, but to the
intimacy which by common report had once existed between the King and
the mother of both.]
[Footnote 163: By Mr. Friedmann in his _Anne Boleyn_.]
[Footnote 164: Perhaps the most damning proof against her is the
fact that her daughter Elizabeth never made the least attempt to
rehabilitate her memory.]
[Footnote 165: Gairdner, _Cal._, x., 908.]
[Footnote 166: Gayangos, _Cal._, vol. v., pt. ii., p. 127.]
[Footnote 167: Cotton MS. Otho. C. x., Brit. Mus. Burnet, vol. iv., p.
291.]
[Footnote 168: _Anne Boleyn_, vol. ii., p. 293.]
[Footnote 169: Cotton MS. Otho C. x., f. 283; printed in Hearne’s
_Sylloge_, p. 140.]
[Footnote 170: Chapuys to Granvelle, 6th June 1536, Vienna Archives.
Gayangos, _Cal._, vol. v., pt. ii., p. 574.]
[Footnote 171: Cotton MS. Otho. C. x. f. 230. Burnet, i., 320.]
[Footnote 172: Chapuys to Charles V., Despatch of the 19th May 1536,
Vienna Archives. Gairdner, _Cal._, x., 908.]
[Footnote 173: Crapelet, _Lettres de Henri VIII._ p. 167.]
[Footnote 174: Gairdner, _Cal._, x., 726. Harl. MS. 282, f. 7, Brit.
Mus.]
[Footnote 175: Gairdner, _Cal._, x., 887. Vienna Archives, dated 15th
May 1536.]
[Footnote 176: Cotton MS. Vit. B. xiv., 177. This, and all the letters
written by Mary to her father and Cromwell at this time, are to be seen
at the British Museum; they are all written in her own firm, clear
hand, but many of them are much damaged by the fire at Cotton House.]
[Footnote 177: Cotton MS. Otho C. x., f. 283; printed in Hearne’s
_Sylloge_, p. 140.]
[Footnote 178: _Vide_ his letter to Charles V., p. 111.]
[Footnote 179: Cotton MS. Otho C. x., f. 284. Hearne’s _Sylloge_, p.
146.]
[Footnote 180: Cotton MS. Otho C. x., f. 265. Hearne, p. 147.]
[Footnote 181: Cotton MS. Otho C. x., f. 286. Hearne, p. 148.]
[Footnote 182: Cotton MS. Otho C. x., f. 287. Hearne, p. 149.]
[Footnote 183: Cotton MS. Otho C. x., f. 271. Hearne, p. 124.]
[Footnote 184: Cotton MS. Otho C. x., f. 270. Hearne, p. 126.]
[Footnote 185: Cotton MS. Otho C. x., f. 272. Hearne, p. 127.]
[Footnote 186: Cotton MS. Otho C. x., f. 280. Hearne, p. 137.]
[Footnote 187: Gairdner, _Cal._, xi., 7.]
[Footnote 188: Gairdner, _Cal._, xi., 7.]
[Footnote 189: Harl. MS. 283, f. 114^b, 112. Hearne, p. 142.]
[Footnote 190: Harl. MS. 283, f. 111^b. Hearne, p. 140.]
[Footnote 191: Cotton MS. Otho C. x., f. 273, Brit. Mus. Hearne, p.
128.]