The oddest thing about Mary’s reign, like that of her grandfather, was the fact that it happened at all. A hundred years before, the accession of a woman to the English throne was all but unimaginable. Sir John Fortescue, the most influential constitutional thinker of fifteenth-century England, had flatly denied that a woman could wear the crown. Nor was her sex the least of the obstacles in Mary’s path. Untrained for rule and unmarried, declared illegitimate and excluded from the succession in 1534, subsequently restored to it in 1544 (though with no revocation of her illegitimacy), a convinced Catholic who by 1553 stood almost alone against the religious policy of the Protestant regime, Mary looked likely to be baulked of her rights when the Duke of Northumberland married off Lady Jane Grey to his son, Guildford Dudley, and Edward VI willed the crown to Jane by virtue of her descent from Henry VII. The fact that the duke hoped to frustrate the accession of one woman by running another as her rival is a commentary on how much things had changed, as well as on the lack of a plausible male alternative. The account of how Mary overcame these formidable obstacles, a veritable Renaissance history of virtu dominating fortuna, is the most romantic and appealing episode in what has generally been seen as an unappealing and drab reign.
As Edward lay dying, Mary was summoned by the council to London, but shrewdly set off in the opposite direction, making for Kenninghall, deep in Norfolk. This certainly saved her throne, and probably her life: had she been in Northumberland’s power, nothing could have stopped him. When it came, on 6 July, the death of Edward VI was not so well-kept a secret as that of his father and grandfather before him. At a moment when, in the interests of Northumberland’s coup, it was essential that secrecy be maintained, news of the young king’s death leaked almost instantly, a sign that the apparatus of government around the duke was by no means unanimous about his imminent seizure of power.
So it was at Kenninghall that news of Edward’s death first reached Mary on 8 July, sent by a gentleman and councillor, Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, whose religious
Sympathies were firmly Protestant. Mary was worried that the message might be a set-up. But on 9 July, with the news of the king’s death confirmed, she had herself proclaimed queen - in fact beating the Duke of Northumberland to the draw: Lady Jane Grey was not proclaimed queen until 10 July. Mary at once despatched an imperious letter to the Privy Council in London, requiring them to endorse her claim. More practically, she summoned to her side the gentry of East Anglia, and they responded so promptly as to suggest that there had been some preparation, or at least some forethought, over the previous weeks. Besides the support of the gentlemen of her household, such as Robert Rochester, Henry Jerningham and Edward Waldegrave, she was joined by some of Norfolk’s wealthiest and most influential knights: not only doughty backwoodsmen such as Sir Henry Bedingfield, but also Sir Richard Southwell, a veteran shire administrator and trusted servant of Henry VIII - the sort of substantial figure who brought experience and credibility, as well as more tangible resources, to the queen’s camp.
Mary’s letter to the council reached London on ii July, causing consternation in the Dudley camp. Moving south into Suffolk, the next day she established herself in the formidable castle of Framlingham, where first hundreds and then thousands of men flocked to her standard. Jane had already been proclaimed at Ipswich, but Mary’s approach and the groundswell of popular support for her cause changed the mind of another key figure, Sir Thomas Cornwallis, Sheriff of Norfolk and Suffolk. Although the initial moves on Mary’s behalf were instigated and implemented by those who were clearly Catholic at heart, the bandwagon they started gained such momentum that even the Protestant leaders in the region had no choice but to jump on board.
Thomas, Lord Wentworth, who had led the Protestant Reformation in eastern Suffolk since the 1530s, was induced to lend his support - perhaps helped by his loyalty to the memory of Henry VIII, who had made him what he was. Peers as
Warrant of Queen Jane for the issue of letters patent appointing Edward Benarde to be sheriff of Wiltshire, 14 July 1553. This has the signature ‘Jane the Quene’ and is one of the very few documents signed by Jane during her nominal reign of nine days. The name ‘Edwarde Benarde’, the sheriff-designate, is also in her hand.
Well as knights and gentlemen were now answering Mary’s call, and in London the duke and the Privy Council began to panic. Northumberland raised troops to march against her, hopeful that Lady Jane’s father, the Duke of Suffolk, would lead them. But although his supporters were still right behind him, they were determined to remain there, at a safe distance. Northumberland was obliged to assume personal command, and headed north out of London on 14 July. Meanwhile, the summonses and letters despatched in Mary’s name were working stronger magic than those despatched in Jane’s, and the rest of the nation was taking Mary’s side. The Thames Valley, the Midlands, the West Country and the north were all raised on her behalf. It was still Catholic families who took the lead. Troops were raised in her name by county luminaries such as Edward, Lord Windsor, in Buckinghamshire, Henry, Lord Abergavenny, in Kent and Sir Thomas Tresham in Northamptonshire.
Others were more cautious. Princess Elizabeth - who stood to lose as much as Mary from Northumberland’s coup - amassed a substantial force of her own clients at Hatfield. She played a waiting game: if she did not rush to the aid of Jane, neither did she hurry to her sister’s side. In the confusion of those days, other local magnates, such as Lord Rich and the Earl of Oxford in Essex, likewise hedged their bets. But such hesitation worked in Mary’s favour. The longer the issue was undecided, the more Jane’s cause looked like the overreaching ambition of a self-serving noble arriviste. While the zealous Protestants who had to be his main constituency were uncertain and divided over the competing claims of religion and dynastic legitimacy, the zealous Catholics rallied to Mary with the complete conviction of those who can see in events the divine vindication of their cause. Civil wars are usually fought between minorities, and Mary’s minority was the more cohesive and the more determined.
The endgame was over in a few quick moves. Pausing only to sack Sawston Hall, where Mary had stayed on her flight into Norfolk, Northumberland made for Cambridge, where the vice-chancellor, Dr Edwin Sandys, unwisely lent him the university’s support. On Monday 17 July he advanced boldly into Mary’s heartland, Suffolk, reaching Bury St Edmunds. But on Tuesday, haemorrhaging troops all the way, he retired to Cambridge, beaten back by the mere rumour of the size of Mary’s host: there is no particular reason to doubt the figure of 30,000 which was put upon it. Meanwhile, back in London, news from the rest of England convinced the rump of the Edwardine government to switch horses. The Duke of Suffolk broke the news to his daughter Jane on 19 July, and then proclaimed Mary queen on Tower Hill. London exploded with joy - as much out of relief at not facing an overwhelming military assault as out of loyalty to Mary. Bonfires were lit, bells were rung and impromptu parties filled the streets as people celebrated with the traditional symbols of that ‘merry England’ which the Protestant Reformation was already obviously out to suppress.
Meanwhile, Northumberland himself proclaimed Mary in the market square at Cambridge, before holing up in the house of his friend, Sir John Cheke, once Edward’s tutor, and still Provost of King’s College. In a rare moment of co-operation between town and gown, a large force led by the mayor surrounded Northumberland’s refuge and put him under arrest. He was soon on his way to the Tower, with most of his family - and the hapless Dr Sandys.
Mary made a slow and stately progress towards London, disbanding her forces, and receiving the dutiful submission of all those who had not been swift enough to display their loyalty before Northumberland’s ignominious surrender. Elizabeth, milking a difficult situation for all that it was worth, upstaged Mary by making her own entry into the city of London on 29 July, bringing 3,000 men with her - barely a tenth of Mary’s army at its height, but a significantly larger retinue than Northumberland had been able to scrape together - before riding out to join the queen for her state entry on 3 August. But a touching display of sisterly solidarity was the message people chose to read, amidst their joy at being spared the horrors of civil war.
There were a few executions, of course. Northumberland was sent to the block, along with some of his closest associates, despite his timely and desperate reversion to the faith of his fathers. But mercy was, unusually, the rule. Even Jane Grey and her unfortunate husband were spared, at least for now.
Arrangements were swiftly under way for Mary’s coronation, which would set the seal on her bloodless victory. The nobility thronged to greet their new sovereign. A dozen noble families were honoured in the traditional manner as their youthful heads or heirs were created Knights of the Order of the Bath. Stephen Gardiner, released from the Tower on Mary’s arrival in August, celebrated the rites on Sunday i October 1553, and the traditional duties of ceremonial service to the monarch were performed at the coronation feast by the Duke of Norfolk and the Earls of Arundel, Derby, Devon, Shrewsbury, Surrey, Westmorland and Worcester. It was in fact a celebration of national reconciliation after the stresses of the summer.
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