Authors: Leanda de Lisle
The trigger for the revolt, which began in Lincolnshire on 1 October, was a visitation of the churches by Henry's church commissioners with instructions against âsuperstitious' practices concerning the cult of saints. The local people loved their saints and the Henrician regime was now widely regarded as avaricious, sacrilegious, and led by evil men. A nearby Cistercian abbey had recently been closed and the congregation of St James's in Louth were convinced that their church was about to be stripped of the treasures their ancestors had bequeathed for generations. As they gathered that day for a religious procession behind their valuable processional crosses, a member of the choir called out bitterly, âMasters step forth and let us follow the crosses this day. God knows whether we shall follow them again.' This despairing cry lit the touchpaper; by the end of October rebellion had convulsed northern counties from the river Don in Yorkshire to the Scottish border.
The scale of the rebellion against Henry VIII had not been seen since the shattering Peasants Revolt of 1381. The most serious uprising, the so-called Pilgrimage of Grace, called for the reversal of religious change and the overthrow of the king's âheretical' councillors, but also for the repeal of the âstatute of illegitimacy' against Mary and the king's new power to leave the âcrown of this realm by will'. Ordinary people, as well as courtiers, were united in seeing the princess Mary as the champion of traditional religion, because, as the legitimate child of her parents' valid marriage, she embodied resistance to the break with Rome. They also saw her as the king's rightful heir. Since Henry VII and Henry VIII both drew their royal blood through female lines, people believed the princess could play a similar role, and be married to a suitable nobleman of royal blood. The rebels blamed Cromwell
in particular for his role in the recent changes. It was even being said he was behind Thomas Howard's attainder and wanted to marry the beautiful Margaret Douglas himself: in short, that he aspired to the crown.
On 16 October rebel nobility, gentry, clergy and commoners entered York under their badge of the five wounds of Christ. On the 19th, Hull capitulated. With over 30,000 people involved the Pilgrims were too powerful to be defeated in battle. Henry bought them off instead with promises of pardons and the answering of grievances. It was a humiliation for the king, but Henry was biding his time to gain revenge. When it emerged in the New Year that Henry would not keep his promises, further unrest followed, but it was fragmented, disorganised and easily defeated. In the spring of 1537 the gentry leaders of the rebellions were brought to London for trial. Over 144 executions followed in the capital, with the beautiful young wife of one rebel burned alive. In the north there were further executions, with Henry demanding that âthe inhabitants of every town, village, and hamlet that have offended' should suffer such âdreadful' deaths âas they may be a fearful spectacle to all others hereafter'. The Duke of Norfolk chose to keep the numbers of the deaths down; nevertheless six abbots and thirty-eight monks were amongst those executed.
Henry now saw the monasteries as foci of resistance to the break with Rome, and instead of the programme of reform that he had previously intended, every monastery, large and small, good, bad or indifferent, was to be suppressed. The process took only four years. They had all gone by the end of January 1540, and their works of art, relics and libraries were either pillaged or destroyed. Out of 600 books in the library of Worcester Priory, only six remain. Three volumes survived the destruction of the Augustinian friars of York out of a total of 646. Amongst the greatest losses were many unique manuscript books of English church music.
Some of the empty buildings were converted into houses for new
owners (including Easebourne Priory) and a few monastic churches continued as cathedrals or were bought by a parish to serve as their local church. Amongst them is Tewkesbury Abbey, bought for £453, the value of the bells and lead roof that otherwise would have been salvaged for the king. A brass plaque in the choir today commemorates Prince Edward of Lancaster, the son of Henry VI and Margaret of Anjou, who is buried there. For the most part, however, all that was left of the monasteries by the end of the Tudor period were Shakespeare's âbare ruin'd choirs where late the sweet birds sang'.
Most monks and nuns were retired with a pension, although the remaining Carthusians from the London Charterhouse were not to be so lucky. There were to be no trials or public executions, which might stir up further unrest. They were simply taken to Newgate that May, chained to wooden posts in their cells and left in their own filth to die of starvation. Henry did not give them much thought. On 27 May 1537, two days before the monks were taken to Newgate, the great hymn of thanks, the âTe Deum', was sung at St Paul's Cathedral âfor joy at the queen's quickening with child'. After all the years of disappointment, the king was to have a son at last.
T
HE CHRISTENING OF THE KING'S SON
E
DWARD AT
H
AMPTON COURT
on 15 October 1537 was a subdued affair. There was an outbreak of plague in the London suburbs, and guests who had stayed recently in those areas had been asked to stay away. Edward's half-sisters Elizabeth and Mary were there, however. The four-year-old Elizabeth was carried in a courtier's arms, clutching the chrism cloth which was to be laid on his head during the baptism, while Mary made a happy godmother. She was relieved that the burden of being the king's âtrue' heir was taken from her, and those of all religious persuasions rejoiced with her that England now had a legitimate prince.
A few days later the prince's mother, Jane Seymour, haemorrhaged in her rooms. She died on 24 October, to Henry's great sadness. It was said she had once angered Henry by begging him to save the monasteries. If the story is true it was a rare foot wrong. Her motto, âBound to Obey and Serve', expressed a similar understanding of Henry's psychological needs to that Katherine of Aragon had possessed as a young wife. Jane Seymour had been an intelligent and astute woman and came from what would prove a clever â if not always astute â family. For over a year Jane had shared Henry's bed, hunted with him and ridden in royal processions, she had been kind to his daughters Mary and Elizabeth, and at Christmas her pale, placid face had been ever present at the court celebrations and ceremonies.
Writing to King Francis of the birth of their son, Henry confessed that âDivine Providence has mingled my joy with the bitterness of the death of her who brought me this happiness.' She was to be the only one of his wives to be honoured with a state funeral.
Jane's stepdaughter Mary acted as chief mourner that November, riding solemnly behind the chariot that bore Jane's coffin in procession to Windsor. Behind Mary, in the first of the chariots bearing the great ladies of the court, sat her cousin, Frances Brandon, the twenty-year-old elder daughter of the late French queen. Named after King Francis, she was married to Harry Grey, Marquess of Dorset, a âyoung, lusty' nobleman âof great possessions', who was a descendant of Katherine Woodville's first marriage to a Lancastrian knight.
1
The couple had a baby daughter, aged about six months, who they had named Lady Jane Grey after the queen. And although no one could have guessed it, little Jane Grey was destined also to be a queen.
2
Lady Margaret Douglas, who had been freed from arrest earlier that month, should have been sharing her cousin Frances' carriage, but she was absent from the funeral.
3
Her lover, Thomas Howard, had died âof an ague' in the Tower and she had taken the news âvery heavily'.
4
Her last entry in her collection of poetry expressed the hope she would soon be with âhim that I have caused to die'.
5
Clearly she was in no fit state to appear in public just yet, let alone to consider why Henry had chosen to bury Jane at Windsor and not the Lady Chapel at Westminster Abbey. But it was to prove a highly significant decision â for it was at Windsor that Henry also intended to be buried.
Henry had stopped work on his tomb in the Lady Chapel at Westminster Abbey in the aftermath of the Pilgrimage of Grace the previous year.
6
The old divisions of the Wars of the Roses were being replaced by religious strife, but faced with the evidence of the turmoil he had created, Henry remembered the promise of the union rose â of national healing â and associated it with himself. He would be buried in St George's Chapel at Windsor because it was there that his Lancastrian great-uncle, Henry VI, and his Yorkist
grandfather Edward IV were buried. The name chosen for his son should be seen in this context. The boy had been born on the eve of the Feast of Edward the Confessor after whom it is often claimed he was named. But Henry showed little attachment to this royal saint, whose shrine at Westminster he stripped of its valuables. Rather, he was doing what his father had never done: honouring his mother's family.
The evidence of a psychological break with his father is still more evident in the fresco Henry now commissioned from Hans Holbein. When completed it covered most of one wall at Whitehall (formerly Wolsey's York Place). It was a family portrait, but one that boasted how much better Henry VIII had done than his father. At the centre of the fresco was an enormous altar. Above were the slight figures of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York. Below, to the left of the altar was Jane Seymour, the mother of the prince, and to the right the much larger figure of Henry VIII standing astride, his oversized codpiece thrust forward, âso majestic in his splendour, [and] so lifelike that the spectator felt abashed, annihilated in his presence', one viewer commented.
7
The Latin inscription on the altar asked who was the greatest, Henry VII or Henry VIII? âThe former often overcame his enemies and the fires of his country and finally gave peace to its citizens'; but âthe son, born indeed for greater tasks, drives the unworthy from the altars and brings in men of integrity. The presumption of popes has yielded to unerring virtue and with Henry VIII bearing the sceptre in his hand, religion has been restored.'
8
Although Henry wished for further sons he was in no hurry to remarry. His priority was to build on this claim to greatness. Henry was now determined to forge a new religious unity within a reformed English Catholic church that was humanist, Christo-centric, anti-papal and biblical. Where Henry VII had commissioned a silver gilt image of himself in the shrine of Thomas Becket, and another at the famous shrine to the Virgin at Walsingham, Henry VIII had the tomb of Thomas Becket fired out of cannons and the towers of Walsingham
with their âgolden, glittering tops' were levelled to the ground.
9
Yet Henry was ready to create as well as destroy, commissioning a new Bible in English by Miles Coverdale. It was to have an image of Henry at the top of the page, as the Vicar of Christ, handing the Word of God to Cranmer and Cromwell, who would in turn pass it on to his subjects. There were concerns an English Bible would encourage heresy with individuals interpreting what they had read in their own way, but Henry was prepared to police the beliefs of his subjects personally.
In May 1538 an Observant Friar was convicted of heresy for his traditional Catholic beliefs, and burned with exquisite cruelty over âa slow fire' fuelled by an ancient image of a Welsh saint.
10
A campaign was being led against all statues and objects linked to cults, and killing the monk in this way sent out a strong message to parishes. But Henry also burned evangelicals, and in November 1538 stepped in to oversee the trial of a man who, influenced by European reformers, denied the Real Presence of God in consecrated bread.
11
This was an issue that would come to be a defining difference between Catholics and Protestants â and Henry decisively rejected what would come to be called Protestantism. The miraculous transformation of bread and wine into Christ's body and blood at the moment of consecration, which lies at the heart of Catholic belief, also lay at the centre of his Christianity. Henry, dressed symbolically in white, insisted the man die at the stake.
Henry's self-appointed role as Grand Inquisitor and his destruction of pilgrimage sites was, however, now attracting the threat of a crusade. The papal sentence of excommunication, suspended since Henry's marriage to Anne Boleyn, was issued and Pope Paul III asked the English cardinal, Reginald Pole, to persuade Charles V and Francis I to launch an invasion. The cardinal's family in England were already suffering for their connection to him. On 9 January 1539 his elder brother, Henry, Lord Montague and his cousin, Henry Courtenay, Marquess of Exeter, were executed for being in contact. Even Pole's
old mother, the Countess of Salisbury, the princess Mary's former governess, was attainted and eventually executed. The axe-man, a âblundering youth', was said to have âliterally hacked her head and shoulders to pieces'.
12
Henry faced the threat of invasion equally robustly, by creating the greatest fortifications of the realm since the reign of Edward I. Coastal forts were built or rebuilt and a strategic alliance was made with the House of Cleves, which held the dukedom between the Low Countries and the German Empire. To seal this, Cromwell pushed the idea of a marriage with the Duke of Cleves' second daughter, Anne. With infant mortality high it was also the case that the more sons Henry had the better. He had shown Edward off in the spring of 1538, holding the prince in his arms at a window with âmuch mirth and joy' and âto the sight and comfort of all'.
13
A painting of Edward aged fourteen months, dressed in red velvet and holding a golden rattle, depicts a fat and beautiful baby. But even the healthiest baby could be snatched away suddenly by disease, and having seen Holbein's attractive portrait of Anne of Cleves, Henry agreed to marry her.