Mary Rose Page 2

  Henry, meanwhile, was crowned in style. No expense was spared to make the occasion as glittering as might be, and the traditional ceremonies and rituals were strictly observed. The Great Wardrobe spent a fortune (over £1,500) on trappings for the occasion. On 27 October the King dined with the Archbishop at Lambeth, and followed this with a procession through London to the Tower, where he spent the next two nights before the ceremony itself. Archbishop Bourchier anointed him, and was assisted by the bishops of Durham and Bath and Wells. The new Duke of Bedford acted as Steward for the occasion, and places of honour were reserved for the King’s mother the Lady Margaret, and for his intended bride, Elizabeth of York. Henry had made no move in the direction of marriage, partly because he did not want to make it appear that his title to the throne depended in any way upon her, and more importantly, because a dispensation would be needed because of the degree of affinity which existed between them. 22 Such a dispensation could only be obtained from Rome, and the Pope had not yet recognised him as king, so that situation needed careful and thoughtful handling. The parliament which convened on 7 November, perhaps deliberately, gave him his cue by petitioning him to remember his promise to the Lady Elizabeth, and thus reinforced his intention by the will of the estates, representing the realm of England. Henry might be newly crowned and only twenty-eight years old, but the succession was never far from his subjects’ minds, and such a marriage would be an ideal way to heal the long breach between the houses of York and Lancaster. It may be significant that the petition was only offered after the parliament had declared the King’s title, ‘To the pleasure of All mighty God, the wealth, prosperity and surety of this realm of England’, reversed the attainders of his followers, and made financial provision for the new reign. In other words it took its place in a calculated order of priorities. 23 This gave the King some breathing space, and an opportunity to get to know the young lady, whom he had probably never set eyes on, and to accustom her to the idea of wedding a man she did not know. Moreover, at the time that the parliament met, Elizabeth was still stigmatised as a bastard by an unrepealed Act of Richard III, and that had to be reversed before any question of marriage could be entered into. So there were good reasons for the delay, quite apart from the susceptibilities involved.

  The dispensation was probably applied for in early December, perhaps even before the petition was received, but these things took time and in this case the testimony of eight witnesses. Realising the urgency of the matter, Pope Innocent VIII allowed the Apostolic Delegate to England and Scotland, James Bishop of Imola, to issue an interim dispensation on 16 January, just two days before the ceremony took place. Henry must have known in advance that the decision would be a favourable one, because more than two days would have been needed for the preparations. 24 Indeed the prompt arrival of Prince Arthur in September suggests that the couple were sleeping together before they were married, although no one commented upon that fact at the time. Not very much is known about the wedding itself; even the participation of Archbishop Bourchier is little more than speculation. Despite the fact that it was celebrated by chroniclers and commentators as marking the triumphant end of the feud of York and Lancaster, no proper account of it survives, and it must have been celebrated in some haste. The papal bull of confirmation was dated 2 March 1486, describing the circumstances of the Bishop of Imola’s action, giving the degrees of kindred dispensed, and stating that it had been in response to the petition of the magnates and people of the realm. Finally on 23 July a decree was issued, setting out a notarial copy of the process before the Apostolic Delegate, and threatening the sentence of excommunication against anyone denying the validity of Henry’s claim to the throne. 25 The full decree had taken time, but it had been worth waiting for. Not only was it retrospective in its effect, but it carried the full weight of papal recognition for his title, which was essential for the negotiations which were by then under way with other European rulers. Queen Elizabeth fell pregnant at once, and bore a son on 19 September, confirming in the eyes of all but the most recalcitrant that Henry’s triumph was the will of God.

  One of those recalcitrants was John de la Pole, Earl of Lincoln. John had been Richard’s designated heir, but had at first made no show. Early in 1487 he fled to Flanders and countenanced (if he did not inspire) the imposture of Lambert Simnel, who claimed to be the true Earl of Warwick. Recognised and supported by his ‘aunt’ Margaret of Burgundy, Simnel secured a coronation in Ireland and, with a mixed band of Irish kerns and German mercenaries, invaded England in pursuit of his claim. He was defeated and captured at the Battle of Stoke on 16 June, and the Earl of Lincoln died in the battle. 26 This was the end of any immediate challenge to the King’s position, and he now felt it safe to crown his queen. On 10 November he issued a commission to Jasper, Duke of Bedford, to discharge the office of Steward of England at this coronation, and the ceremony was held at Westminster on the 25th. Elizabeth was a loving and dutiful wife, and was later described as being beloved of the people ‘because she is powerless’. Henry certainly trusted her, and early in 1487 transferred to her her mother’s jointure. This was probably voluntary on the Queen Dowager’s part, and may well have been connected with her declining health. She retired to the convent at Bermondsey with an annual pension of 200 marks, which Henry paid with every sign of filial affection until her death in 1492. 27 Elizabeth may well have been pregnant again by the end of 1487, but if so she had a miscarriage because there is no official record of her condition, and it was November 1489 before she produced a second child – a daughter who was named Margaret. Margaret’s christening was overshadowed by the creation of her brother Arthur as Prince of Wales, which occurred on the 29th, and not very much is known about her upbringing. She later married James IV of Scotland and died in 1541. 28 She would have been taught to read and write, and subsequently had a reasonable command of French. These skills were imparted by tutors, but she seems not to have shared lessons with her brothers, and was spared the strict regiment of classical reading which was imposed upon them. Instead her education would have been that thought suitable to a royal or aristocratic girl, and consisted largely of piety, needlework and household management. There are some indications that she read widely, but her reading matter seems to have consisted of Chaucer, Froissart and Malory rather than anything more substantial. 29 In other words, she was trained to be a wife or consort, and her intellectual ambitions, if she had any such, would have been largely frustrated.

  By the beginning of 1491 Elizabeth was pregnant again and on 28 June gave birth to her second son, who was named Henry. Whereas Arthur had been recognised as Duke of Cornwall from his birth, Henry had no title until he was created Duke of York in 1494 at the age of three. Unlike Arthur, Henry was robust child, and grew into a youth of great stature and athleticism, eventually succeeding his father as King Henry VIII in 1509. 30 At some time in 1492 a second daughter was born to the Queen, and named Elizabeth; however, she did not survive infancy, dying in 1495, shortly after the birth of a third girl, who was called Mary, and is the subject of this study.

  1

  THE INFANT PRINCESS

  Mary was apparently born on 18 March 1495/96, according to a note in her mother’s psalter which there is no good reason to doubt. 1 Like the other royal offspring she would have been put to a wet nurse until she was weaned, and then placed under the care of a dry nurse, because royal ladies did not suckle their own infants, and it is uncertain how much Mary would have seen of her mother as she left infancy behind. Arthur, as Prince of Wales, had his own household and was not normally resident in the court, but the girls, although they had their own attendants, were not similarly indulged and their nursery remained within the household, travelling with it from place to place. This involved quite a lot of movement because even the greatest palaces became insanitary after several weeks of occupation and the court seldom stayed in one place for more than a month. The main base was Eltham, but journeys downriver to Greenwich were frequent, while
upriver lay Westminster, Richmond and Windsor, less often visited but still important residences. 2 Meanwhile the nursery at Eltham was washed and fumigated, ready for fresh occupancy. The children’s world was circumscribed, because although there was a constant stream of distinguished visitors who came to inspect them, and they were occasionally paraded for that purpose, they would have had little or no contact with such men, and their exposure to the normal life of the court was minimal. It is unlikely, for example, that two-year-old Mary was even aware of the celebrations in London in 1497 which marked the arrival of the sword and cap of maintenance from Pope Alexander VI, which entitled her father to style himself ‘Protector and defender of the Church of Christ’. 3 Her own vision of God at that point would have been rather more limited. It is possible that she did remember the fire which destroyed much of Richmond Palace on 22 December in the same year, because the court was in residence at the time, and the blaze is alleged to have started in the King’s apartments. It was principally the old buildings which suffered, and the fire was extinguished after three hours. 4 No lives were lost, but the hurried evacuation may well have remained in her mind. Normally, however, trips up and down the river between Greenwich and Westminster would have been the limit of the young royals’ exposure to the outside world.

  Although we know next to nothing about how Mary spent her time during the first few years of her life, thanks to the survival of the Wardrobe accounts we are rather better informed about how she was dressed. Silks and damasks were issued which would have been made up into baby clothes by her attendant ladies. Stiff and wholly inappropriate for a small child as these may now appear, they would have been the normal garb for a noble infant of that period, which insisted on cramming its children into scaled-down versions of adult costume at the earliest opportunity. 5 Blankets, bedding, napkins and handkerchiefs were also provided regularly, and ribbons of coloured silk or gold for the princesses. At the age of three or four Mary was wearing voluminous long-sleeved dresses, with full kirtles and tight-fitting bodices, hopelessly encumbering for an active child. Play in the modern sense was clearly not on the agenda, but she seems to have grown up without any ill effects from this type of deprivation. Perhaps more suitable clothing was permitted within the confines of the nursery. By the time that she was four, in 1499, Mary had a whole collection of dresses, including purple satin and blue velvet – and eight pairs of soled shoes. Clearly she lacked for nothing which would have made her presentable. 6 Unfortunately the records are silent on how often she would have been shown off in these splendid garments. How much Elizabeth herself was involved in the rearing of her daughter is an open question. The lack of reference to her in this connection would suggest not very much. There are, for instance, only two allusions to Mary in the Queen’s Privy Purse expenses for 1502. One is for twelve pence for a papal pardon during the jubilee year of 1501, which must have been a mere gesture because it is hard to see what sins a six-year-old could have committed, and the other is for 12 s 8 d paid to a tailor for making her a gown of black satin. 7 Apart from these there is nothing. That does not necessarily imply neglect, because her expenses may have been differently met, but it does suggest that the Queen was too busy with public and household duties to supervise the lives of her children. Nevertheless, when she died early in 1503 they all seem to have felt the loss keenly, so perhaps she had other ways of making her presence known. Some time later Thomas More imagined the dying Queen taking leave of her children; ‘Adieu my daughter Mary, bright of hue, God made you virtuous, wise and fortunate’, although He did not make More a very good prophet.

  The person who seems to have taken her duties most seriously in connection with their upbringing was the children’s paternal grandmother, Margaret Beaufort. Margaret was a woman of extraordinary toughness and determination, whose influence over her son is known to have been profound. Margaret’s properties were restored to her as soon as Henry was accepted as king, and various other houses were granted to her, including the mansion of Coldharbour in London, to use when she was not resident at court. Politically sensitive wardships were conferred on her, and she was at first given the custody of the Earl of Warwick before the King decided that he would be safer in the Tower. 8 Elizabeth stayed with her in the weeks before her marriage, and she played a leading part in both coronations. In 1488 both she and the Queen were issued with liveries of the Order of the Garter, which was an especial mark of favour. No woman could be a member of that chivalric order, but this grant enrolled them as associates, and gave them a part in the Garter ceremonies. It has been remarked that her role was very similar to that which Cecily, Duchess of York, had discharged at the beginning of Edward IV’s reign. 9 She frequently joined the King and Queen on their progresses, and her proximity to the royal couple seems to have been taken as a matter of course. Although she had no theological training, her piety was austere and diligent, and contributed significantly to the high moral tone which Henry liked to impose upon his court. Her education had been rudimentary. She had married at thirteen and borne her son before her fourteenth birthday. Consequently she had no Latin, nor any other language apart from French, but she was very appreciative of the learning of others, and became a notable patron of the humanists. She was particularly close to John Fisher, who became Bishop of Rochester in 1504, and with him founded the college of St John in Cambridge, for the specific purpose of promoting the new learning. 10 It was almost certainly her influence which dictated the appointment of Bernard Andre as tutor to Prince Arthur, and later John Skelton from her favourite university of Cambridge, and these appointments in turn guaranteed a curriculum of strict classicism for both him and his younger brother, Henry. By 1500, when their accomplishments were brought to the attention of Erasmus, they were the best-educated princes in Europe. It may also have been she who insisted on them being ‘bible learned’ in a manner never seen before, and quite at odds with the prevailing ethos of aristocratic education. She was not, of course, a member of the Council, and politically her influence was limited, but culturally she reigned supreme. It was perhaps characteristic of her that she did not attach the same importance to the education of her granddaughters as she did of the boys. In both cases her attitude was pragmatic. Arthur certainly and Henry possibly were being trained as rulers, and for them a knowledge of history and philosophy were essential if they were to govern well. The girls were being brought up for a more domestic role, and their priorities were good appearance, piety and chastity. It was highly unlikely that either of them would find themselves in the kind of position which Margaret herself occupied. There are occasional slight signs that Elizabeth resented this intrusion into her proper realm of responsibility, but she was no match for Margaret when it came to strength of personality, and in any case the King would have it so. In spite of her royal blood the Queen was by nature passive, even submissive, so the pair appeared together in public on numerous occasions with every outward sign of harmony. Perhaps Elizabeth was relieved that so forceful a person was prepared to take over the demanding task of supervising so lively a brood, while she got on with the essential task of giving birth. However, in that respect fortune had deserted her. She may have had an abortive pregnancy in 1497, but her next live birth was of Edmund, who was born in 1499. For a while Henry had three living sons, but Edmund did not survive infancy, dying in 1500. 11 Arthur, the golden hope of both his parents, succumbed to consumption in 1502, and it was in an effort to repair that damage that the Queen again became pregnant later in that year. She died in childbirth on 11 February 1503, and the child, a daughter named Catherine, swiftly followed her to the grave. Margaret’s reaction is not recorded, but she would have been sufficiently occupied in consoling her son, who was devastated by his loss. 12