TUDOR SECRETS AND MYTHS EVENT: TUDOR SUMMER QUEENS GUEST POST
‘Great trouble in the kingdom’: Mary Tudor’s entry into London, August 1553
by Tracy Borman
Mary Tudor ascended the throne on a wave of popular rejoicing. Although there was a general abhorrence for the idea of a woman ‘bearing rule’, the vast majority of her subjects viewed her as the rightful successor to her brother Edward – in contrast to Lady Jane Grey, who had only held the throne for nine days. Mary had been quick to rally her supporters when John Dudley, duke of Northumberland, had persuaded the dying young king to alter the succession in favour of Lady Jane, who happened to be his daughter-in-law. The coup soon collapsed in the face of England’s overwhelming support for Henry VIII’s eldest daughter and she was proclaimed queen on 19 July 1553.
Lady Jane Grey aside, Mary Tudor was England’s first queen regnant for almost 400 years. The last incumbent, the Empress Matilda, had held onto power for only a few months and had plunged the country into civil war. It was hardly an inspiring example of female sovereignty. ‘A woman is never feared or respected as a man is, whatever her rank’, explained Mary, Queen Dowager of Hungary to Charles V, when resigning her regency. Little wonder that Henry VIII had been so desperate to sire a legitimate male heir. When his son Edward had lay dying and his councillors had tried to justify preventing his half-sister Mary from inheriting the throne, they had protested ‘the inferiority of the female sex’, even though they had subsequently named another woman as heir.
On 3 August, the new queen rode in triumph through London, accompanied by her half-sister Elizabeth and a procession of more than 800 nobles and gentlemen. On the surface, it was a dazzling expression of family unity. But bubbling away beneath was a fierce rivalry between the two sisters. Naturally introspective and lacking her father’s ability to charm and enthral the crowds, Mary progressed through them, responding awkwardly to their cheers and appearing rather distant and aloof. When a group of poor children sang a verse in her honour, it was noted with disapproval that she ‘said nothing to them in reply.’ By contrast, Elizabeth, who had inherited her father’s gift for public relations in abundance, attracted the most attention as she gracefully inclined her head and waved her hand, making every member of the crowds that thronged the streets feel that she had saluted them personally. As the procession gained ground, she drew the loudest cheers and used her instinct for the theatrical to attract more still. ‘Her Grace, by holding up her hands and merry countenance to such as stood far off, and most tender and gentle language to those that stood nigh…did declare herself thankfully to receive her people’s good will’, remarked one bystander.
Elizabeth’s popularity was enhanced by her appearance. With her ‘comely’ face, long, flowing red hair, ‘fine eyes’ and youthful exuberance, she enjoyed by far the greater share of beauty between the two sisters. The Venetian ambassador remarked how much she resembled her mother, with her dark eyes and fine features. Like Anne, Elizabeth was not recognised as a conventional beauty, but she knew how to make the best of herself, and she had that same indefinable allure that drew men to her. Elizabeth was also taller than her sister, Mary, who was described of being ‘of low rather than of middling stature’. Although she was only in her mid-thirties, Mary appeared much older. The turmoil and sadness of her youth had aged her prematurely, and the sombre, tight-lipped expression she wore did nothing to lift her lined face. ‘At present, with the exception of some wrinkles, caused more by anxieties than by age, which make her appear some years older, her aspect, for the rest, is very grave’, remarked the Venetian ambassador. Her appearance was not helped by the fact that she had lost nearly all of her teeth in her twenties. Among her most noticeable features were her eyes, which were so piercing that they ‘inspire, not only respect, but fear, in those on whom she fixes them’. In fact, Mary’s tendency to stare intently at people was due more to her severe short-sightedness than an intention to intimidate, but her gruff, manly voice, which was ‘rough and loud, almost like a man’s’ did not make her any more appealing.
Although she loved fine clothes and paid a great deal of attention to her wardrobe, Mary lacked the sense of style that came so naturally to her half-sister. She dressed in richly decorated gowns of bright colours which clashed with her red hair. Even the Spanish ambassador was forced to admit that if she dressed more stylishly, then ‘she would not look so old and flabby.’ By contrast, Elizabeth dressed with understated elegance, favouring simple gowns of white or green which set off her colouring to perfection. While Mary was embarrassed by her sexuality and preferred to hide her emaciated figure in heavy, high-necked gowns, Elizabeth flaunted hers with a knowingness beyond her years, exuding a sex appeal that many men at court found irresistible.
There were soon other, graver causes for discord between the two sisters. Even though she was a devout Protestant, Elizabeth was shrewd enough to ‘adapt herself to the will of her Majesty’ – and that will was decidedly Roman Catholic. From the beginning of her reign, Mary made it clear that she intended to return England to the papal fold. This sparked widespread resistance among her people and Elizabeth soon became a natural figurehead for all those opposed to her half-sister’s regime. The Imperial ambassador, Simon Renard, warned that Elizabeth was ‘clever and sly’ and might ‘conceive some dangerous design’ against the new queen. Such comments may have been slanderous, but they succeeded in reopening old wounds. ‘She [Mary] still resents the injuries inflicted on Queen Catherine, her lady mother, by the machinations of Anne Boleyn, mother of Elizabeth’, noted Renard with evident satisfaction. Mary confided to him that she thought Elizabeth would grow to be like her mother, ‘who had caused great trouble in the Kingdom’.
That fleeting display of unity between the two sisters during the summer of 1553 had already given way to a long winter of mutual distrust, suspicion and, ultimately, betrayal.
About the Author
Tracy Borman is a Tudor historian, author and broadcaster. She wrote about Mary and Elizabeth’s relationship in her book Elizabeth’s Women: the hidden story of the Virgin Queen, as well as in her forthcoming book (watch this space!). Tracy’s latest book is Crown & Sceptre: A New History of the British Monarchy, which was published by Hodder & Stoughton in the UK and Grove Atlantic in the US and is available in all good bookshops.
ahpurse's Blog: Tudor and Victorian Historian 
Great article! Thank you!!! All I can say is….ooooh…poor Mary! 😬😬