Tudor? I Hardly Knew Her! : Queen Mary I, part one
This is why we can’t have nice things, darling/ Because you break them, I had to take them away
So, the thing with Queen Mary I, as with so many historical figures, is that her whole life tends to be retrofitted back from her short, weird, bloody reign. We know how she wound up, so picking up the breadcrumbs in reverse order is a way to understand how and why her life ended like it did. But I prefer to begin at the beginning when her life could have gone so many different ways, each tantalizing maybe getting passed by as her life becomes a series of terrible Choose Your Own Adventure options. Change just one twist of fate, and things may have ended differently for her, England, and the world.
She was the older of two redheaded sisters, both disinherited by their grotesquely terrible father; both defined, at least for much of their lives, for not getting married. Mary was only the second Queen to ever rule England, or the first, depending on how you like to factor Lady Jane Grey into things. Many men had short, bizarre, bloody reigns, but the fact that she’s one of such a small assortment of Queens forces comparisons to her half-sister and later queens like Victoria and Elizabeth II. Also, much of what we know of her is based on documents that came out during the lengthy Protestant reign of Elizabeth I. Elizabeth’s claim to the throne was just as precarious as Mary’s. Her story has intriguing sliding doors. One of the ways that Elizabeth I worked to prove herself as a queen was by setting up how she was different from her sister, which is propaganda that still colours the way Mary I is written about.
So, it’s a lot of wading through many peoples’ opinions and reflections to dig into what Mary was really like and her importance to history. As a Queen, she took over a country amid ongoing religious conflict, a war in which we know, with hindsight, her side would ultimately lose. But that’s all in the future; this week, we’re looking at the first part of her life, from beloved Princess to cast-aside Lady to the woman who would be Queen.
Mary was born February 18, 1516, the first child of Henry VIII and his wife Katherine of Aragon to survive infancy. She had been preceded by a boy who lived only 52 days, as well as at least one recorded miscarriage and two stillbirths. With this track record in mind, her Catholic family ensured Mary was baptized as quickly as possible; their theology stated that even babies couldn’t go to Heaven if they died without being first baptized. She was a girl, which nobody wanted, but she was alive, which proved that Katherine was at least this fertile. Her very existence meant that, hopefully, a son would come along soon.
Much has been written about Henry VIII’s obsession with having a son, and it makes sense that he did. The Tudor dynasty was still very new, and he needed a no-brainer line of succession to ensure that his family would continue to rule long after he died. Daughters were helpful as bargaining chips to solidify trade and political arrangements via marriage to foreign Princes and Kings, but sons were seen as necessary to further the family tree. Without a straightforward line of succession, the Tudor dynasty itself could end; a line of sons would ensure the line in, hopefully, perpetuity.
We know more about Mary’s childhood than most other women of the period because she was born royal. Her intelligence, forceful personality, and firm opinions are noted in letters sent between ambassadors and emissaries. Both her grandmother, Isabella of Castile, and her mother, Katherine of Aragon, were firm believers in the importance of education for girls, so Mary was trained to be fluent in multiple languages, to be able to debate religion and philosophy, and in sports and music. Physically, she resembled both parents, with bright red hair, light blue eyes, and a pale complexion. When she got worked up, which seemed more often than for others, her skin reddened much as her father’s face when he became emotional.
When she was two years old, a marriage was arranged between Mary and Francis, the infant son of the French King. The union was never solidified through any ceremony, and three years later, the Kings of both countries agreed to end the engagement. Her next engagement was arranged when she was six and would see her married to her 22-year-old cousin, the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V. Again, both parties agreed to end the contract a few years later, without any ceremony having been held. Henry then attempted to negotiate with the French again, promising Mary to the French King himself, not to the infant. And then, yet again, the agreement was ended without Mary securing herself a husband. But no big deal! She was still a kid! Plenty of time to find her a suitable husband.
When Mary was about ten, she was sent from London to Wales to preside over her own royal court. This was hugely significant because even today, the heir to the English throne is known as the Prince of Wales. Sending Mary there effectively meant that Katherine would not have any more children; Mary was the heir to the throne; get used to it. There was also a second reason for sending her away, and that reason is that Henry VIII was a huge asshole. At this point, he was trying to annul his marriage to Katherine to marry Anne Boleyn. The main sticking point was that Katherine refused to agree that their marriage was invalid. Removing her beloved daughter from her side was probably a bargaining/blackmailing tool; if Katherine wanted to see Mary again, she would have to accept Henry’s terms.
COINCIDENTALLY, it was during her time in Wales that Mary’s health concerns began to be recorded. It was almost as if being used as a pawn between two warring parents, one of whom was a selfish monster, would have some psychological effect on a tween girl. She had trouble with irregular menstrual cycles as well as struggled with disordered eating — the first hints at similar problems to what had plagued her grandmother, Isabella of Castile, in later life. Mary was depressed and anxious, and Henry’s mistreatment of both herself and her mother only exacerbated these issues. Although she was forbidden to communicate with or to visit her mother, the pair managed a few secret meetings and letters. And then, finally, excruciatingly, Henry declared his marriage to Katherine null and void — and the new English religion would be Protestant. Mary and Katherine lost their influence, titles, and religion all in one fell swoop.
Henry did not divorce Katherine; he had their marriage annulled. This meant that, retroactively, Mary was illegitimate. As such, she was stripped of the title of Princess and had her household and staff taken from her. Retitled just Lady Mary, she was sent to live as a guest in a house away from court — that of her new infant half-sister, Princess Elizabeth. Mary, aged 17, had been replaced by a baby. The new Princess looked much like Mary, with red hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. This baby was to be raised just as Mary had been, as heir to the crown — and as an unwanted girl, placeholding until a boy was born. Elizabeth was now in possession of everything Mary had lost.
Henry had commanded that reality shift to fit his mercurial mood. He didn’t want Katherine anymore, so nobody else should respect her. He had no use any longer for Mary, so she was cast aside. Catholic leaders hadn’t given him the annulment he wanted, so everyone had to change to Protestantism. Both Mary and her mother refused to play along with this Emperor’s New Clothes reimagining of their lives. Katherine refused to accept that her marriage had been ended or that she was no longer Queen. Mary refused to accept Anne Boleyn as either her stepmother or her Queen. Neither would waver in their devotion to their Catholic faith. And Henry hated them both for it.
When Katherine died in 1536, likely of cancer, Mary was not permitted to visit her mother’s bedside nor to attend the funeral. According to all records, she was understandably inconsolable, a captive in her baby half-sister’s home, now having lost everything and everyone who had ever mattered to her. Elizabeth was now living a shadow of her sister’s life, too — Henry declared his marriage to Anne Boleyn retroactively invalid, downgrading Elizabeth from Princess to Lady. But help would arrive for both redheaded stepchildren from an unlikely source — their new stepmother, Jane Seymour.
Jane’s influence led Henry to reach out to Mary, whom he hadn’t communicated with in three years. Henry being Henry, this communication was in the form of an ultimatum — Mary would have to pledge allegiance to the Church of England and publicly agree she was illegitimate to return to her father’s affections. Mary, being Mary, tried to hand-wave away these requirements and make amends anyway, but Henry strong-armed her into agreeing. Mary finally signed a letter agreeing to his term and, at age 20, was welcomed back by her father at Engish court.
Now that Mary was the mistress of her own household again, she re-hired some former servants. They, along with much of the population of England, still secretly supported her. Katherine of Aragon had been a beloved Queen for twenty years, and her daughter was equally loved — especially by those who disagreed with the King’s shift from Catholicism to Protestantism. The same year Mary returned to court, a rebellion arose, seeking to return England to Catholicism. One of their demands was to have Mary made legitimate again and to become Henry’s heir. Keep this in mind; many people were waiting to support Mary’s claim to the throne. (That will be important in part two of this story). This particular rebellion ended when Henry massacred everyone involved, which… again, keep this in mind for part two.
Lady Mary’s relationship with her stepmother, Jane, was close. When Jane gave birth to a baby boy, Prince Edward, she named Mary his godmother. Jane passed away shortly after giving birth, and Lady Mary led the mourning procession at her funeral — a role she had been unable to perform for her mother but now could for her stepmother.
Mary was still unmarried in her twenties and had not promised marriage to anyone. Henry diligently worked to find a match for her that would help himself and England. One option was that of Philip, the Duke of Palatinate-Neuburg. Philip was close in age to Mary, and apparently, the two got along quite well. Philip’s connections in Germany would benefit Henry, who hoped England could collaborate with Protestant German nobles to create an alliance against the Holy Roman Empire. Philip came to court for the first time in 1539, acting like an average person, not wearing a disguise or trying to trick Mary into recognizing him, unlike other men I could mention. He gave Mary a gift and kissed her (!!!). Everyone at court and across the country began gearing up for a royal marriage. The fact that Mary, the most Catholic Catholic ever Catholic, was agreeable to marriage with a Protestant shows how much she liked him as a person.
But then the political and religious stuff got tricky again, and Henry decided this alliance didn’t suit him, Henry. Because he was not only the King but also — I cannot overstate this enough — a colossal asshole. Philip visited court three more times to try and convince Henry to let him marry Mary, but no luck. On The Tudors, his character is played by the guy who was smouldering Captain Hook on Once Upon A Time, which is perfect casting because when the marriage plans dissolve, the audience is just as gutted as Mary is. She could have had it all! ***shakes fist at Henry***
But between ruining her chances at a sweet husband who loved her and was hot AF, Henry was still treating Mary as well as Henry ever treated anyone. Her invited her to act as a hostess for his parties when he was between wives himself and things like that. Because he wouldn’t allow Mary to get married, he just cavorted around marrying repeatedly until he got bored with his wives and moved on.
Henry’s sixth wife/Mary’s fifth stepmother, Kathryn Parr, managed to sweet-talk the King into reinstating Lady Mary and Lady Elizabeth into the line of succession. They were both still technically illegitimate, but if something happened to Edward and/or any sons Edward would have, the two sisters would be first and second in line to the throne. Remember what I said before about Henry wanting a no-brainer line of succession? If anyone had to ponder who got the throne next, there was wiggle room for other factions to come in and try and take over. He didn’t want everyone to consult a multi-page family tree to understand who was taking over; he wanted it to be VERY OBVIOUS. But, at this point, everyone assumed Edward would live for years and years and have lots of sons, so the thought of Mary or Elizabeth taking over was very pie in the sky and unlikely.
Henry died in 1547, and Prince Edward became King Edward. Now, he was a devoted Protestant, as were all his advisors. One of the main things Edward knew he had to do was continue his father’s work, making England All Protestant All The Time. Having an older sister who was All Catholic All The Time wasn’t great for this plan, so Mary was kept out of the way in estates outside of town. For those keeping track, she was still neither engaged nor married and was now well into her thirties.
This was surely super stressful and frustrating for Mary. She had been raised as a noblewoman in a time and place where everyone knew her path was to get married to someone politically advantageous and then give birth to as many children as possible to ensure the family’s dynasty. Unmarried and in her thirties, cut off from her royal title, she was running her estates but must have felt aimless. To make matters worse, her relationship with the teenage King was fractious. She was invited to court for Christmas in 1550, wherein she and Edward got into such an emotional screaming match about religion that they both wound up in tears. He was like, “I’m the King, and I decreed everyone has to be All Protestant All The Time, and when my sister doesn’t obey the law, it hurts my feelings!” and she was like, “I’m your sister and like 25 years older than you and when a teeny tiny boy tells me to cast aside my religion it makes me want to stick forks in my eyes!” and so on.
Then, in July 1553, Edward died. And the no-brainer line of succession started to look pretty confusing. Because Edward and his advisors had worked on a plan to ensure that Mary didn’t bring her Catholic ways to the throne of England, they’d all have been okay with Elizabeth inheriting the throne. Still, if they made her legitimate again, they’d have to make Mary legitimate again, and there wasn’t any way to pass the crown to Elizabeth while bypassing Mary. Both girls had become illegitimate for basically the same reason, so he either had to have both in line or neither of them. And Edward and his gross, slimy, terrible advisors decided to remove them both. This meant it was time for Plan B — a ten-page family tree to explain why they were choosing someone entirely to succeed him on the throne. The people of England — and Mary herself — understood her to be the rightful new Queen. But Edward’s advisors had other plans in mind.
Next Time: Bloody Mary?? (Not the cocktail)
Sources
Exciting to see Mary I content! My obsession with the Tudors started when I read a YA novel called “Mary, Bloody Mary” (set in her youth) which really made me kind of a lifelong Mary apologist. I just read Alison Weir’s new novel about her and in the epilogue she was like “if it seemed like I didn’t like her while you were reading it, that’s because I don’t” 🙃
Was this the original Housewives Of model?