The History of Mary I, Queen of England / as found in the public records, despatches of ambassadors, in original private letters, and other contemporary documents

The truce concluded between Philip and Henry for five years, made in despite of a treaty scarcely two months old, between the King of France and the Pope, which had for its object to drive the Spaniards out of Italy, came to an end in July of the same year. It was broken by Henry, at the instigation of the Pope’s envoy and nephew Cardinal Caraffa, who promised the King of France that his uncle should give the crown of Naples to one of his sons, and Milan to another. Philip then declared war against the Pope who imprisoned his ambassador, and proceeded to the fortification of Rome. “The Queen,” said Michiel, “by her orders still continues to maintain her neutrality, although harassed as usual, owing to the present suspicions between the Pope and her consort, on account of which, Cardinal Pole was on the point of sending an express to Rome, but apparently awaits the return of Francesco Piamontese.”

At home, justice was being administered in a manner that seemed to promise immunity from further attempts at revolution, although after events proved, that the evil was still lurking in Elizabeth’s shadow. Kingston died on his way to the Tower, of a disease from which he had long been suffering; his accomplices were tried and executed, “while all, both good and bad, said and admitted, that the execution was just and holy”. The death of Lord de la Warre, and that of three others condemned with him, was deferred from day to day, in order, said Michiel, that they might “reconcile themselves to God, and for the salvation of their souls, to which above all the Queen wishes the greatest attention to be paid, rather than because either they or others may hope for pardon, as the persons aforesaid, neither by their own deserts, nor through the intercession of persons in great favour with the Queen, and very dear to her, have been able to obtain it. According to report, although it seems improbable, Carew will adjust his affairs by payment of a fine, some persons telling me that he has already done so, by agreeing to disburse £2,000 sterling. Cheke has again demanded a conference with the theologians, after having lately dismissed them, persisting obstinately in his heretical opinions, which unless he retract them will cause him likewise to be burned in public.”[615]

On the 19th October, the ambassador announced that Peter Carew had come out of the Tower, and was released entirely, after having compounded for 2,000 marks, and had already paid a part of his debt to the Crown. Katharine Ashley was also set at liberty, but was deprived of her office in Elizabeth’s household, “and forbidden ever again to go to her ladyship,” who was expected shortly at court. Dr. Cheke recanted and was liberated. As a direct consequence of his recantation, “through the efficacy of his language,” about thirty others followed his example and saved their lives.[616] He died the next year, some said of remorse, for what he had done against the reformed religion.

The times were more full of strife and trouble for Mary than any period she had traversed since the beginning of her reign. Her confidence in her people, which had carried her undoubtingly through the anxieties of Wyatt’s rebellion, had been rudely shaken. Insult, calumny and treachery had at last opened her eyes to the extent of the disaffection that prevailed. Philip, moreover, who was to have been her sheet-anchor, and that of the nation, treated her not merely with neglect, but with ill-disguised contempt; and far from appreciating the difficulties and dangers with which she was beset, added to them, by insisting on concessions that could only be wrung from the nation at the cost of the last remnant of her popularity. Together with him, she had celebrated with inexpressible joy, what was to have been the crowning glory of her reign—the reconciliation of her kingdom with the Holy See—and now, little more than a year and a half afterwards, not only was the country a very hot-bed of political and religious revolt, but the most Catholic King himself was in open debate with the Pope, and even threatened with excommunication. She had reason enough to acknowledge herself beaten all along the line, but she would have been no Tudor had she done so. As for her constancy, no other Tudor could boast the like, and little as Philip cared for her, she clung to him as faithfully as to the principles that had been her mainstay all her life long. Her piteous plight did not escape the observation of the kindly Venetian ambassador, who in his despatch of the 23rd June, 1556, wrote: “As for many months, the Queen has passed from one sorrow to another, your Serenity can imagine what a life she leads, comforting herself as usual with the presence of Cardinal Pole, to whose assiduous toil and diligence, having entrusted the whole government of the kingdom, she is intent on enduring her troubles as patiently as she can”. Two months later, he wrote: “To say the truth, the Queen’s face has lost flesh greatly since I was last with her, the extreme need she has of her Consort’s presence harassing her, as told me, she having also within the last few days lost her sleep”. And again: “The Queen has been unwell lately, both from the great heat, the like of which no one remembers, as likewise owing to some mental vexation, and not having yet quite recovered, she has chosen to change her residence, and to-day went eight miles hence to Croydon, to a house of the most illustrious the Legate”.[617] “Before moving,” said Michiel in another letter, “the Queen chose to give orders and arrange about the prisoners, so as not to be troubled with this business during her absence, having some of them released, on giving security, others being fined, others remaining in prison where they were; to others she conceded liberty within the Tower; and the execution of those condemned to death is deferred from what I hear, until her return, perhaps in order that the King being then here may, with his usual clemency, obtain their entire release, so as to gain for himself so much the more favour and popularity.”[618]

In spite of the Queen’s resolve to treat the peace disturbers with greater severity than heretofore, her former leniency having been so much abused, it does not appear from the above that Mary had any desire for their death, but it would seem rather, as if she snatched at every pretext for sparing their lives, providing them with every possible pretext for escape. In her desolation and perplexities, she turned more than ever to the consolations of religion, and to the relief of the poor and afflicted. It was especially to the summer of 1556, part of which was spent at Croydon, that the biographer of the Duchess of Feria refers, when he describes Mary’s informal visits to her poor neighbours, and tells of the practical aid and sympathy the Queen gave them in their necessities, listening to their grievances, taking their part actively on occasion, against the injustice of her own officials, advising them as to the upbringing of their children, and doing all she could to improve their condition.[619] But it was not only during her retirement in the country, that she found time for acts of charity. In the midst of the cares of state, and the turmoil of public affairs, devotion to the poor was among the recognised duties of her daily life. It was part of her personal piety, and inseparable from her devotion to her religion, the sincerity of which, notwithstanding all the libels that have been heaped upon her memory, has never been called in question.

In Holy Week, 1556, the Dudley conspiracy had just been discovered, and the Queen was too much alarmed to allow of Cardinal Pole’s departure for Canterbury. From the despatches of the Venetian ambassador we know that she refrained for some time almost entirely from appearing in public, yet she made no alteration in the performance of the public acts of charity, which according to ancient custom she had determined to carry out at this time. Marc Antonio Faitta, secretary to Cardinal Pole, writing to a private friend in Italy, describes the ceremony of the feet-washing on Holy Thursday by the Queen. He says:—

“Her Majesty, being accompanied by the right reverend Legate and by the Council, entered a large hall, at the head of which was my Lord Bishop of Ely, as Dean of the Queen’s chaplains, with the choristers of her Majesty’s chapel. Around this hall on either side, there were seated on certain benches with their feet on stools, many poor women to the number of forty and one, such being the number of years of the most Serene Queen. Then one of the menials of the court, having washed the right foot of each of these poor persons, and this function being also next performed by the under almoner, and also by the grand almoner, who is the Bishop of Chichester, her Majesty next commenced the ceremony in the following manner: At the entrance of the hall, there was a great number of the chief dames and noble ladies of the court, and they prepared themselves by putting on a long linen apron which reached to the ground, and round their necks they placed a towel, the two ends of which remained pendant at full length on either side, each of them carrying a silver ewer, and they had flowers in their hands, the Queen also being arrayed in like manner. Her Majesty knelt down on both her knees before the first of the poor women, and taking in the left hand the woman’s right foot, she washed it with her own right hand, drying it very thoroughly with the towel which hung at her neck, and having signed it with the cross, she kissed the foot so fervently, that it seemed as if she were embracing something very precious. She did the like by all and each of the other poor women, one by one, each of the ladies, her attendants, giving her in turn their basin and ewer and towel; and I vow to you, that in all her movements and gestures, and by her manner, she seemed to act thus not merely out of ceremony but from great feeling and devotion. Amongst these demonstrations, there was this one remarkable, that in washing the feet, she went the whole length of that long hall, from one end to the other on her knees. Having finished, and risen on her feet, she went back to the head of the hall, and commenced giving in turn to each of the poor women a large wooden platter, with enough food for four persons, filled with great pieces of salted fish, and two large loaves, and thus she went a second time, distributing these alms. She next returned a third time to begin again, giving to each of the women a wooden bowl filled with wine, or rather I think hippocras; after which, for the fourth time, she returned, and gave to each of these poor people a piece of cloth, of royal mixture, for clothing. Then returning for the fifth time, she gave to each a pair of shoes and stockings; for the sixth time she gave to each a leathern purse, containing forty-one pennies, according to the number of her own years, and which in value may amount to rather more than half an Italian golden crown; finally, going back for the seventh time, she distributed all the aprons and towels which had been carried by those dames and noble ladies, in number forty-one, giving each with her own hand. Her Majesty then quitted the hall, to take off the gown which she had worn, and half an hour afterwards she returned, being preceded by an attendant, carrying the said gown, and thus she went twice round the hall, examining very closely all the poor women one by one, and then returning for the third time, she gave the said gown to the one who was in fact the poorest and most aged of them all; and this gown was of the finest purple cloth lined with marten’s fur, and with sleeves so long and wide that they reached the ground. During this ceremony, the choristers chanted the Miserere, with certain other psalms, reciting at each verse the words: ‘In diebus illis mulier quæ erat in civitate peccatrix’.”[620]

The same writer goes on to describe the ceremonies of Good Friday:—

“After this, on Friday morning (4th April) the offertory was performed according to custom in the church of the Franciscan Friars, which is contiguous to the palace. After the Passion, the Queen came down from her oratory for the adoration of the Cross, accompanied by my Lord the right reverend Legate, and kneeling at a short distance from the cross, moved towards it on her knees, praying before it thrice, and then she drew nigh and kissed it, performing this act with such devotion, as greatly to edify all those who were present. Her Majesty next gave her benediction to the rings (cramp rings), the mode of doing so being as follows:[621] An enclosure was formed for her Majesty, to the right of the high altar, by means of four benches placed so as to form a square, into the centre of which she again came down from her oratory, and placing herself on her knees within this enclosure, two large covered basins were brought to her, filled with rings of gold and silver, one of these basins containing rings of her own, whilst the other had those of private individuals labelled with their owners’ names. On their being uncovered, she commenced reciting a certain prayer and psalms, and then taking them in her two hands, she passed them again and again from one hand to the other, saying another prayer which commenced thus: ‘Sanctifica, Domine, annulos istos’.

“This being terminated, her Majesty went to bless the scrofulous, but she chose to perform this act privately in a gallery, where there were not above twenty persons; and an altar being raised there, she knelt and recited the Confession (Confiteor?), on the conclusion of which, her Majesty turned towards my right reverend Lord, the Legate, who gave her absolution; whereupon, a priest read from the Gospel according to St. Mark, and on his coming to these words: ‘Super ægros manus imponet et bene habebunt,’ she caused one of those infirm women to be brought to her, and kneeling the whole time, she commenced pressing with her hands in the form of a cross, on the spot where the sore was, with such compassion and devotion, as to be a marvel, and whilst she continued doing this to a man and to three women, the priest kept ever repeating these words, ‘Super ægros,’ etc. Then on terminating the Gospel, after the words ‘In principio erat verbum,’ and on coming to the following, namely, ‘Erat lux vera quæ illuminat omnem hominem in hunc mundum,’ then the Queen made the sick people again approach her, and taking a golden coin called an angel, she touched the place where the evil showed itself, and signed it with this coin in the form of the cross; and having done this, she passed a ribbon through a hole which had been pierced in the coin, and placed one of these round the neck of each of the patients, making them promise never to part with that coin, which was hallowed, save in case of extreme need, and then, having washed her hands, the towel being presented to her by my Lord the right reverend Legate, she returned to her oratory.

“Having been present myself in person at all these ceremonies, her Majesty struck me as affording a great and rare example of goodness, performing all those acts with such humility and love of religion, offering up her prayers to God with so great devotion and affection, and enduring for so long a while and so patiently so much fatigue; and seeing thus, that the more her Majesty advances in the rule of this kingdom, so does she daily afford fresh and greater opportunities for commending her extreme piety, I dare assert that there never was a queen in Christendom of greater goodness than this one, whom I pray God long to save and prosper, for the glory of His divine honor, and for the edification and exaltation of His holy Church, not less than for the consolation and salvation of the people of this island.”[622]

Faitta adds that at court, alms were distributed to 3,000 poor persons on Holy Thursday, and that the Cardinal having made preparations for his public entry into his archdiocese, and being prevented by the Queen from going there, caused all his provisions to be divided among the poor of Canterbury, 2,000 in number, besides giving largesses to many others, who had flocked to that city from the neighbourhood, “all which causes the indigent population there now to await his right reverend Lordship with greater anxiety than ever”.

Another source of consolation to Mary, during Philip’s prolonged absence, lay in the success of her plans for the re-establishment of the religious orders, which had been dispersed, and their homes for the most part secularised by her father. Her health had been greatly benefited by her sojourn at Croydon, she took fresh heart at her husband’s renewed promises of a speedy return, and entering London at the approach of Michaelmas, seemed to have recovered her usual spirits. Michiel wrote on the 28th September: “The Queen, thank God, continues in her good plight, rejoicing to see the monks of St. Benedict returned to their old Abbey of Westminster, into which, the canons having been removed, they, in God’s name, will make their entry to-morrow,[623] and this will be the third monastery and order of regulars, besides one of nuns which has been hitherto reestablished, to which will be soon added the fourth, of the Carthusians (at Shene) who have already made their appearance, to return as they will, according to the promise given them, to their ancient abode, eight miles hence, although it is now occupied by the Duchess of Somerset, who is however to be recompensed with something else”.[624]

On the 24th October, Michiel announced the arrival at Dover of the King’s pages, stable and armoury, together with some shopkeepers “who follow the Court, to put their shops in order” against his Majesty’s arrival, “and as this” said he, ”is the first sign witnessed, it has greatly rejoiced this entire city, and the people, chiefly on account of the profit which from past experience they all hope to make”. A report was also circulated, of an agreement arrived at between the Pope and King Philip, to the great rejoicing of the Queen and of Cardinal Pole. “Nothing is thought of, nothing expected save this blessed return of the King,” wrote the Venetian on the 24th November, “which as told me by Cardinal Pole, the Queen will not credit can be impeded or delayed by the rupture in Italy with the Pope, unless here they declare war on France; but as yesterday, a courier sent express post haste brought news of the King’s return to Brussels, thus removing himself to a greater distance from here, everybody’s suspicion of further delay has increased.... Here, they have been intent on levying the loan demanded by them; henceforth they will occupy themselves by paying the debts, the Queen choosing everybody to be satisfied by Christmas or before, and to give yet greater satisfaction, she has also willed that the gentlemen pensioners and yeomen, who were broken lately, re-enter her service, letting it appear that their dismissal proceeded from her councillors, and not from her own desire, which by the said pensioners and universally was received with twofold gratitude.”

On the 9th November, Philip told Mary that he could not fix a certain date for his return, but that he hoped it would be soon, “and though this indeed saddens the Queen,” said Michiel, “yet nevertheless, considering that such is the fact, and that his not coming does not proceed from neglect, nor from little will, but from necessity, owing to the nature of the times, and his important business, the Queen has of late been pacified, and hope remaining to her, she endures this delay better than she did”.[625]