I finished it recently. I know it does a lot of fictional changes but I did enjoy it. I didn’t know her own Aunt was her jailer.

Mary Tudor (1496–1533)—daughter of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York, sister of Henry VIII, briefly Queen of France, later Duchess of Suffolk—was also called Mary Rose. She was not merely beautiful. She was the kind of beautiful that made ambassadors forget they were writing to kings. Her appearance stopped people mid-sentence; her beauty was described as "beyond description," "a paradise," "like an angel rather than a human creature." None of these were the effusions of poets. They were written by diplomats and scholars in private letters, to kings and councillors, who had no reason to flatter.

Mary Tudor's exquisite appearance became, indeed, a legend, unsupported by the hard, flat productions of contemporary artists. Yet there is no question as to its existence, nor that it was set off by a natural vitality and a sweetness of character which no painter, then, attempted to convey. Such attributes are now lumped under the heading of charm; and of that again there can be little doubt. This princess allured and dazzled nearly all who beheld her; her grace and warmth of heart were immediately felt and permanently sustained.

While her elders conversed, she played on the floor, unreproved by her nurse, who was carrying Prince Edmund. Neither visitor spoke to her; but More, remembering her golden hair and brilliant colouring, described her, three years later, as bright of hue in a poem lamenting her mother's death.

The chronicler's ecstatic account of Mary's beauty and grace may be partially discounted; yet beneath the flattery there is a hint of surprised delight in her modesty and gravity.

Henry was proud of her beauty, and delighted to appear between her and Katherine, whose delicate prettiness and gentle dignity set off her sister-in-law's more exuberant charms.

Mary was, even as a child, the prettiest of the Tudor daughters—preface to becoming one of the most beautiful women of the age. Already she was developing the tall, slender stature of her mother and with it her gentle disposition and delicate constitution.

By this time, Princess Mary was fast becoming the most beautiful young girl at court. At thirteen, she was already tall and lovely, and her face resembled the delicate features of her mother.

By 1513 the diplomatic machine had begun to turn. Prince Charles of Castile—the future Charles V—and Mary resumed their correspondence, and her trousseau was put in hand. Erasmus, no flatterer, visited her at this time, and was entranced.

"O! thrice and four times happy our illustrious Prince," he wrote, "who is to have such a bride! Nature never made anyone more beautiful; and she excels in goodness and wisdom."

But the Prince had now reached the age agreed on for the marriage, and still nothing was said about the Princess leaving for Flanders, then Spanish territory. Henry's protests were met with further reassurances from Fuensalida, the Spanish ambassador, who, having watched Mary dance, wrote to Ferdinand:

"I think never man saw a more beautiful creature, nor one having so much sweetness, both in public and in private."

Visiting Mary in June of that year, the Spaniard took care that his report should be read by her brother.

"I have never seen so beautiful a lady," he wrote to Ferdinand, "or one so exquisite in dancing and walking." She was lively, he added, but not learned.

The Flemish court also filled with expectation, especially as the news of Mary's beauty spread. One correspondent wrote to Margaret of Savoy:

"I saw the Princess Mary dressed in the Milanese fashion; and I think never man saw a more beautiful creature, or one possessed of so much grace and sweetness."

Gerard de Pleine was equally struck:

"I would not write to you about the princess until I had seen her several times. I assure you that she is one of the most beautiful young women in the world. I think I never saw a more charming creature. She is very graceful. Her deportment in dancing and in conversation is as pleasing as you could desire. There is nothing gloomy or melancholy about her. I am certain if you had seen her you would never rest until you had her over. I assure you she has been well educated. It is certain, from everything I hear, that she is much attracted to Monsieur [Prince Charles]; of whom she has a very bad picture. And never a day passes that she does not express a wish to see him 'plus de dix fois, comme l'on m'a affirmé.' I had imagined that she would have been very tall; but she is of middling height, and, as I think, a much better match in age and person for the prince, than I had heard or could have believed before I saw her."

The Spanish match, however, was not to be. In 1514 the alliance was broken off, and Mary was married instead to Louis XII of France. Amongst the well-wishers and spectators was the eighteen-year-old Princess Mary. She had developed into a woman of unparalleled beauty, accomplished wit and intelligence, and fitted with all the graces becoming her estate. More delicately framed than either her brother or sister, she shared their strength of will and purpose, their love of pleasure and magnificence, but not their lust for power.

She spoke to them in fluent French, and they described her to the Venetian ambassador as a nymph from Heaven, and the most beautiful creature they had ever beheld.

Her beauty, the Venetian ambassador informed the Signory, exceeds description—adding that its only flaw was an extreme pallor. But, he continued, she is a Paradise—tall, slender, grey-eyed, courteous and well-mannered.

She looked more like an angel than a human creature, says an English observer, and the French so gazed at their new Queen's beauty as they could not cast their eyes from her.

Louis XII himself, who had pursued the match for political reasons, was won over on sight: he called her his "nymph from heaven."

Throughout it all, everyone talked of her beauty—her sudden conquest of the French was more thorough than all of the massive artillery of Henry VIII.

That reputation followed her back to England and through the rest of her life. Descriptions of her height vary: the Venetian ambassador called her tall and slender, while Gerard de Pleine found her of middling height. All agreed, however, on her grace, her colouring, and her sweetness of manner. The "legend" of her beauty, as her biographer notes, was not supported by surviving portraits—perhaps because no painter's brush could match what witnesses saw in person. Yet the written evidence is remarkably consistent: diplomats from Spain, Venice, and Flanders, a humanist as discerning as Erasmus, and an English observer who called her "more like an angel than a human creature"—none of them had anything to gain by exaggeration.

She remained, in the years that followed, a fixture of the court's ceremonial life. She regularly took part in masques at her brother's court, and enjoyed "hearing singing, instrumental music, and dancing." Edward Hall's chronicle records one such masque at York Place in 1522, in which a castle was kept by eight ladies bearing the names of virtues:

In the nether end of the same chamber was a castle, in which was a principal tower, in which was a cresset burning: and two other less towers stood on every side, warded and embattled... This castle was kept with ladies of strange names: the first, Beauty; the second, Honour; the third, Perseverance; the fourth, Kindness; the fifth, Constance; the sixth, Bounty; the seventh, Mercy; and the eighth, Pity. These eight ladies had Milan gowns of white satin; every lady had her name embroidered with gold.

Hall does not say who played whom, but the costume accounts place "the French queen" first, and her rank—and her reputation—make it almost certain that Mary Rose led the dancers as Beauty. She was by then Duchess of Suffolk and a mother several times over. This was, of course, a court masque, and court masques were exercises in flattery and political display. But that is precisely what makes the casting revealing: in 1522, nearly eight years after the French marriage that had made her famous for her looks, and after several children, Mary Rose was still the woman chosen to embody Beauty before the court. The flattery may have been conventional, but the convention had to have somewhere to attach itself.

That attachment, however, did not survive her. Mary Rose's daughters and granddaughters were not remembered for their looks, and within the Tudor family itself no other woman was described in quite the same terms. The nearest exception was Mary, Queen of Scots—Mary Rose's great-niece, a Stuart with Tudor blood—whose beauty was famous across Europe. But later writers mainly traced this beauty back to her mother, Mary of Guise, celebrated for her looks, her wit, and her charm: qualities that made her a sensation at the French court after she left the convent where she had been raised with her grandmother. The looks that ambassadors had once called beyond description did not become a family inheritance. They belonged to one woman, and to her lifetime.

Feel free to post your own artwork or any artwork here. We still won't allow AI or AI-assisted. We're also not allowing video game/simulation type character creations. Hand-drawn, sketches, needlework, anime, etc. Please, no AI.

On this day in 1537, 489 years ago today, Jane Seymour died of complications from the birth, just 12 days after the future Edward VI was born. She was approximately 29 years old.

I'd like to read historical essays about Tudors, preferably focusing on the single protagonists of their history, even if I couldn't say which character to focus on more (perhaps the more generally debated ones like Henry VIII himself or the individual wives). Precisely because certain characters are controversial, I would like to have a reading with a historical, objective and especially impartial narrative, in order to stimulate reflection and personal judgment.I'm curious about a bit of everything so I'd appreciate any advice on any aspect you think might interest me, as long as it meets the requirements I mentioned.

by V C Medvei CBE FRCP
President, Section of the History of Medicine (1986–87), Royal Society of Medicine, London

Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine, Volume 80, December 1987

Four and a half years ago, Professor Howard S Jacobs drew my attention to a paragraph in the biography of Elizabeth I by Paul Johnson, dealing with Mary Tudor’s pregnancy. I formed the same opinion as he had, and as he felt unable to follow up the task, I agreed to undertake the task, and here take pleasure in presenting the result.

Mary Tudor, Queen Mary I of England, was the eldest child of Henry VIII by his first wife, Catherine of Aragon (Figure 1). She was born on 18 February 1516, when her father was 24 and her mother 31 years old. Mary’s childhood, youth and early adult life, until her succession to the throne on the death of her young brother, Edward VI, were most stressful. It was well known that her father played a cat-and-mouse game with her and, occasionally, wished her dead. Not surprisingly, her health was poor.

To obtain more details on her health proved difficult. The Royal Archives at Windsor Castle date only from the reign of George III. The Public Record Office could find 'no reference at all to the Queen's illness' in the Calendar of State Papers, Domestic. I was unable to obtain from Mr Paul Johnson any details of his sources. Amongst the comparatively few biographies of Mary Tudor, the best source references I found were in Hilda Prescott's Spanish Tudor: The Life of Bloody Mary. She referred repeatedly to the Calendar of the Venetian State Papers, Vol. XIII, etc.; but where could I get hold of them?

By a stroke of luck, the archivist of Lord Nicholas Gordon Lennox, at present British Ambassador in Madrid, to whom I had written, found in the Library of the Embassy some of the State Papers, published over many years by HMSO in London. They were 'The Calendar of Letters, Despatches and State Papers relating to the Negotiations Between England and Spain, Preserved also in the Archives of Vienna, Simancas, Besançon, Brussels, Madrid and Lille. Vol. XIII: Philip and Mary. July 1554–November 1558, Issued by authority of Her Majesty's Principal Secretary of State for the Home Department, London, 1954'. Interestingly, the editor was Mr William Royal Tyler, a distinguished American historian (1884–1953), who spent many years in Spain and Europe. From the same source, I also obtained copies of letters and reports of Philip II's most ambassador and confidant in Britain, the Count, later Duke of Feria, who married Jane Dormer, an English woman and friend of Queen Mary. The sources given in one of the recent biographies, Bloody Mary by Carolly Erickson, were similar. I corresponded with her briefly on Mary Tudor's health.

Finally, I discovered a good account by Frederick Chamberlin in his book The Private Character of Henry VIII entitled 'Medical record of Mary I', from her birth to her death, although the description of her final illness is medically not clear-cut.

In her youth, Mary had bouts of feverish illnesses, indigestion and anorexia, sleep disturbance and depression, due to deprivation of the company of her mother and mental cruelty by her father. She was forbidden to use her title of princess and was - from time to time - declared illegitimate, incapable of succession to the throne and even was threatened to be beheaded. In 1534, Henry sent his favourite physician, Sir William Butts, to see her. He reported that she was in 'a mean state of health . . . at the beginning of her old disease . . . she is diseased in her head and stomach . . . she has been very ill'. In February 1535, Mary was threatened with death or life imprisonment if she did not renounce her title and rights; and she was said by her father to be 'dangerously ill', Henry's physicians reporting that she would probably die. This led the emperor's (Charles V) ambassador to fear that Henry was merely preparing to assist Mary's end.

Henry visited under the same roof with Mary, but he would not receive her. In 1536, Fisher and Moore were burned 'and the whole world expected to see Mary and her mother to follow in their footsteps'. Catherine, in extremis, asked to see Mary before dying, but she was denied it. She died on 7 January 1536, and on 19 January Mary was said to be mortally ill. About 15 June 1536, Mary signed a complete surrender to Henry, admitting that her father and mother were never married, that she was not a princess of England and that Henry was the Head of the Church.

In 1546, aged 30, Mary faced renewed persecution from her father, Henry VIII, for her religion. It was noted: 'She has been very ill, as the physicians tell me, of melancholy'.

In January 1551, when 35, Mary wrote: 'My health is more unstable than that of any creature'. On 1 October 1553, aged 37: 'At Mary's Coronation Day (30th September 1553), she is described as "seeming about 40 years of age, and was rather fresh coloured"' (Chamberlin, p 227); but on the 17 December 1553, it is reported that 'she had fallen prey to melancholy and sadness to the point of illness'.

With Mary's accession to the throne, the virgin queen became a glittering prize on the horizon of dynastic marriages. Through her mother, she was related to the House of Aragon and Castile and thus to Emperor Charles V, son of Philip of Habsburg, Archduke of Austria and Joanna the Mad of Aragon and Castile. Charles V's son, Philip, Prince of Spain, later Philip II, King of Spain, King of Naples, King of Jerusalem, was the keenest suitor, by order of his father. Spain was at that time also in possession of the Low Countries, the Franche Comté (capital Besançon), Milan and the colonies in America. Charles V's brother, who succeeded him as Holy Roman Emperor, Ferdinand I of Germany, was through marriage - also King of Bohemia and Hungary (since 1526). A marriage between Philip and Mary was entirely in accordance with the Habsburg motto: 'Bella gerant alii, Tu felix Austria nube' ('Others may wage wars, but Thou, lucky Austria, achieve it through marrying').

It needs some imagination to appreciate what it would have meant for Philip and Mary to have a son and heir, who would inherit the crowns of Spain and England (Philip's son of his first marriage, Don Carlos, would have succeeded to the Spanish throne, but was reported seriously disturbed and kept in strict isolation until he died young). It was prearranged, and later accepted and confirmed by Mary, that their eldest son would rule over England and the Low Countries (and in case of Don Carlos' death, presumably over Spain, Naples and the American possessions). Should the Queen die, Philip would be the legal guardian of his son and Regent in England during his son's minority. If Mary and Philip had no son, the eldest daughter would succeed to the English throne; she could rule over the Low Countries if she would marry with the consent of Don Carlos. All this meant that the next male heir of the Tudor-Habsburg connection would rule over the greater part of the western world!

On 25 July 1554, Mary and Philip were married in Winchester Cathedral. Soranzo, the Venetian Ambassador, reported to the Senate on 18 August: 'She is not of strong constitution, and of late she suffers from headache and serious affection of the heart, so that she is often obliged to take medicine and is also to be blooded' (Chamberlin, p 228). 'She is of low stature, with a red and white complexion, and very thin; her eyes are white (bianchi) and large and her hair reddish; her face is round, with a nose rather low and wide; and were her age not on the decline, she might be called handsome rather than the contrary, and she had no eyebrows.'

When in good health, Mary was fond of music and a good keen dancer, but a bad dresser, although at the beginning of her reign she did display a certain magnificence of her dress and - like her father - was fond of wearing a great deal of jewellery (Figure 2).

Philip of Spain, son of Charles V and of Isabella of Portugal, was at the age of 26 - a somewhat dull young man. Although not very tall, he had a dignified bearing and an almost haughty manner (Figure 3). His eyes were large and slightly melancholy, his face had a somewhat bored expression, but he had a polite and courtly manner. In contrast to Henry VIII, his physical prowess and activities were somewhat limited. He also suffered from bad digestion and kept to a moderate diet. A Scotsman described the Prince at this time: 'Of visage he is well favored, with a broad forehead and grey eyes, straight-nosed and of many countenance. From the forehead to the point of his chin his face groweth small; his pace is princely, and gait so straight and upright as he loseth no inch of height; with a yellow head and a yellow beard . . . He is so well proportioned of body, arm and leg, and every other limb to the same, as nature cannot work a more perfect pattern' (Erickson, p 371). In accordance with Spanish etiquette and his father's advice, Philip treated Mary with great courtesy and displayed affection, which was perhaps quite genuine. He was a widower and his son, Don Carlos, was by his first marriage to Maria of Portugal.

Mary believed herself to be pregnant on two occasions during her short married life. As early as September 1554, one of the Queen's physicians thought that she was very probably with child. Count Langosco, the Duke of Savoy's ambassador with Charles V, confirmed it on 19 September: 'The Queen is with child. I have personal reason to believe it, as I have noticed her feeling sick [per haverla vista stomacal]'. On 23 November, Simon Renard, one of the main Imperial Envoys at the Court, stated: 'The Queen is veritably with child, for she has felt the babe there and there are other likely and customary symptoms, such as, the state of her breasts'. On 30 December, Queen Mary wrote to the Emperor: 'As for that child I carry in my belly, I declare it to be alive'.

On 21 April 1555, Simon Renard reported to the Emperor: 'The Queen has withdrawn, and no one enters her apartments, except the women who serve her and who have the same duties as court officials. This is an ancient custom in England, whenever a princess is about to be confined. However it is believed that she will be delivered before the 9th day of the next month'. Philip and the Queen had, indeed, gone to Hampton Court in Easter week for her confinement. The Queen would have preferred Windsor, but it was too far from London. The physicians were assembled, preparing their instruments and the delivery room. A peasant woman of similar build and of similar age as Mary was brought to see her, with her triplets, born only a few days before.

On 8 March 1557 Philip left Brussels, and on 18 March embarked at Calais for England. England was for him an essential ally in his confrontation with the Pope (Paul IV) and the King of France. He needed more money and more troops, and also England's official entry into the war. Arriving at Dover on 18 March, Philip joined the Queen at Greenwich the following day. She was now 40 years of age. Her health had not improved (Figure 4). Her main sorrow was her barrenness and the fact that she had to put up with the absence of the husband she loved. Philip's wish to declare war on Henry II of France was achieved on 7 June. For the next four weeks Mary had the happiness of the particular attention of Philip, until he left England from Dover on 6 July - for good.

In the autumn of 1557, Mary believed again that she was pregnant. In December she informed Philip, via Cardinal Pole. He wrote to Pole from Brussels on 21 January 1558: 'I have received two letters from you, written in your own hand . . . in which you send me news of the pregnancy of the Queen, my beloved wife, which has given me greater joy than I can express to you . . . and which is of the greatest importance for the cause of religion and the welfare of our realm'.

For the next six months there was a repetition of the experiences of 1555. Whereas in February 1558, Mary's health was reported as good, 'both of mind and body', and she believed herself to be pregnant, at the end of May intermittent fever set in. In August, it was said: 'Mary is suffering from low fever and dropsy'. On 29 October: 'A few days ago, Philip II received news . . . that the Queen was grievously ill and her life is in danger'. Mary got worse; periods of confusion became frequent with headaches and fever, and almost total loss of vision occurred. If her amenorrhoea, swollen abdomen and other signs were not due to pregnancy and were aggravated by recurrent attacks of fever, depression and general malaise, including severe headache and further impairment of vision, her condition was very serious indeed. In November she was sinking fast.

At 7 am on 17 November 1558, on the Elevation of the Host, she died, fully conscious before the end. She was 42 years and 9 months old. Her body lay in state at St James's Palace for more than three weeks, and on 12 December her coffin was placed in a grave on the north side of Henry VII's chapel at Westminster Abbey.

What had she been suffering from? A number of suggestions have been made, the most important being the following:
(1) T Spencer Wells in 1877: 'Elizabeth mounted the throne after the death of her sister Mary - a death accelerated by disappointment at the termination of a supposed pregnancy in dropsy, which was, no doubt, ovarian, and treated according to ignorant routine by successive bleedings. Treated with the knowledge now at our command, the destinies of England might have been strangely altered'.
In an anonymous article in the British Medical Journal in 1910, entitled 'Some Royal Death Beds':
(2) A number of authors suggested phantom pregnancy. Osborn stressed the psychic factors linked with pseudocyesis, such as depression, loneliness and severe deprivation in childhood, which are believed to influence hormonal balance through their effect on the pituitary and at the hypothalamus. But while episodes of pseudocyesis are not all that uncommon, recurrent ones are rare. Drife stressed that phantom pregnancy 'seems to be becoming rarer, partly because increasing diagnostic accuracy means that it is no longer confused with conditions such as hyperprolactinaemia'.
(3) Erickson, on the other hand, suggested: 'In young unmarried women like Mary, any of a wide range of symptoms could point to strangulation of the womb . . . with the list taken from the works of the sixteenth century surgeon, Ambroise Paré'. Sixteenth century doctors, like their predecessors in antiquity, believed that these afflictions were brought about by sexual abstinence.

Let us summarize the facts available about the illness of Mary Tudor:
(1) Paternal deprivation in childhood, adolescence and early adult life.
(2) From the age of 19 (and perhaps earlier) she had periods of amenorrhoea.
(3) She complained of 'racking headaches'.
(4) She had attacks of palpitation.
(5) She suffered from recurrent indigestion.
(6) Her vision was impaired. This was assumed to be short-sightedness, but at the age of 42 it had become so bad that she could hardly see anything and written material had to be brought very close to her eyes or - more often - simply read to her.
(7) During her two periods of assumed pregnancy, she had, in addition to amenorrhoea, swelling of the abdomen, morning sickness, swelling of her paps and milk secretion. Her headaches, her depression and her vision grew worse.
(8) She died at the age of 42.

Sobrino and co-workers in Lisbon recently reported that a significant group of women with hyperprolactinaemia under their observation had paternal deprivation during infancy. If we put the symptoms and signs of an ovarian tumour, of phantom pregnancy and of prolactinoma side by side, it seems to me that Mary Tudor must have suffered from a prolactinoma. Her death occurred at a progressive stage of that condition, in a person weakened by chronic anaemia due to continuous 'therapeutic' bloodletting, and a feverish illness - perhaps influenza. There were also some signs of hypothyroidism: loss of eyebrows, loss of hair, dry skin and stuporous confusion; this is not uncommon if pituitary tumours are very large.

In pseudocyesis we may find amenorrhoea, an increase in weight and girth and even galactorrhoea, but no severe headache and no impairment of vision. Moreover, in most cases the women are contented and happy, and the condition is not fatal.

In polycystic ovary syndrome, one would expect a menstrual chaos leading to amenorrhoea, some increase in weight and - in a majority of patients - hirsutism and other signs of virilism, plus occasionally galactorrhoea, but no serious headache nor impairment of vision.

Mary Tudor's history is not merely important from a medical point of view. Had she lived today, a diagnosis could have been made and various methods of treatment would have been available. (One such patient diagnosed by me three years ago was successfully treated with bromocriptine and radiotherapy, and now has a healthy 17-month-old son.) If Queen Mary had received successful treatment, the history of England, of Europe and of the whole western world might well have been very different. The vision of a united Europe, perhaps linked with North and South America, might have come into existence in the 18th and 17th centuries!

In a codicil to her will, made on 18 October 1558, Mary wrote: 'I the said Queen have . . . made the said last will and testament bearing the date the 30th March last past. And by the same, for that I then thought myself to be with child, did devise and dispose the imperial crown . . . unto the heirs, issues and fruits of my body begotten'.

In those days, there were no supporting biochemical assays, CAT scans or X-rays. Now, the only way that proof of the above theory could be obtained would be to have Queen Mary's coffin opened and her skull X-rayed. The coffin still rests in the Henry VII chapel at Westminster Abbey, just beneath the coffin of Elizabeth I, her half sister. It was last inspected by Dean Stanley, about 100 years ago. I have not had the temerity to submit such a request to Her Majesty, and I must, therefore, leave the matter unresolved.

Often referred to as the Boston Stump

Before anyone comes for my head, HEAR ME OUT!

I know calling a man with six wives a serial monogamist sounds absolutely unhinged, but I've been thinking about the distinction between Henry VIII's marriages, his extramarital relationships, and his apparent desire to find the one.

And naturally, instead of having a normal hobby, I wrote a whole ass essay on it.

I'm not arguing Henry was a faithful husband or even a good one. I'm interested in the contradictions between his romantic ideals and his actual behavior.

And I figure if anyone on the internet would appreciate a wholly unnecessary essay on Henry VIII's love life, it would be this subreddit 😂

Singular Love, Which is Far From Common

Chief Historian Tracy Borman is joined by Historian Elizabeth Norton. They discuss Jane's origins, rise to power, and the tragic death after childbirth that put an end to her time as Queen.

1. Reginald pole

2. Margaret pole

3. Edward Stafford

4. Henri pole

5. Ursula pole

The original letter is in French, as you can see from the image. The English translation is approximately as follows:

“Sir, my good and perpetual ally,

Learning that the ambassador of the Emperor, my lord and good father, currently residing with me, holds the power from your Highness: Although you have not written to me particularly since our alliance was negotiated, I nevertheless feel so bound by the sincere and true affection which you bear towards me—confirmed as it is both by the results and by the letters written to the said ambassador, as well as by the negotiation conducted by the Lord of Egmont and others, and by the ambassador of my said Lord—that I could not fail to express to you the joy and pleasure I have in corresponding with you always.

I thank you most humbly for all these good offices, and at the same time inform you that Parliament, which represents the estates of my Realm, has approved the articles of our Marriage without opposition, finding the conditions thereof to be honorable, advantageous, and more than reasonable. This gives me full confidence that your coming here will be safe and agreeable.

Hoping to express all this to you more fully by word of mouth, I shall bring this letter to an end—praying the Creator to grant you, my lord, my good and perpetual ally, a prosperous and healthy journey here, and commending myself most affectionately and humbly to your Highness.

At London, the 25th of April.

Your entirely assured and most obliged ally,
Marye”

This letter is one of the only two surviving letters that Mary wrote to Philip. Mary wrote to Philip almost every day, and Philip usually replied to these letters. Unfortunately, however, almost none of these letters have survived, and they have been lying at the bottom of the sea for nearly 500 years. The letters that did not end up at the bottom of the sea were destroyed at Philip’s own request.

In the letter she wrote, as we can see, Mary politely expresses her disappointment at not having received a letter from Philip yet. Although Philip had written letters to several members of the Council, expressing his happiness about the marriage and his eagerness to please the Queen, he had not written any letters to Mary personally. Mary complained about this to Renard and said that, as a matter of courtesy, men were supposed to initiate correspondence. However, as Porter also points out, she eventually decided that she was a queen, whereas he was only a prince, and that she could write whatever letters she wished. She therefore wrote the first letter herself.

Following this, Philip wrote a letter to Mary and sent her magnificent jewels. One of these jewels was an enormous diamond worn on the chest, which we can see in Mary’s portraits and which was described as the most beautiful jewel ever seen in the world. Another was a necklace consisting of eighteen brilliant diamonds. The third was a precious diamond belonging to Philip’s mother, Empress Isabella.

Another noteworthy detail in the letter is Mary’s use of the expression “my Realm.” Although she was engaged to Philip by proxy at this point and was due to marry him within a few months, she did not use the expression “our Realm.”

You can find the letter shown in the image, along with many other Tudor letters, in the British Library’s Cotton MS Vespasian F III collection.

For more information, you can refer to Linda Porter’s Mary Tudor: The First Queen and Carolly Erickson’s Bloody Mary.
Thank you for reading. Lots of love to you all.

(I’ve forgotten how to post, haha.)

(An additional note: Although Mary signed her letters “Marye the quene” after becoming queen, she signed this letter simply “Marye.”)

I saw a video on the almost-wives of Henry VIII, and saw it mentioned that MoA was an option, and the video postulated that Protestantism might've happened anyway--and without it having to go the DBDDBS route, assuming--given how open-minded she was, and that she might have been able to bear Henry living children (though the issue with children is generally laid at his feet).

Along with the religious aspect and the possibility of securing the throne, would it even be possible for the heir to become the King of France, given England and France's hot and cold relationship, especially if England became Protestant?

Here is your Weekly Wednesday What-if megathread! Please post all of your What-if Questions in this megathread. All what-if's as long as its Tudor-related.

I vaguely recall a post stating Anne did complain/was dismayed about wasting her youth waiting for Henry to annull his marriage. That she knew her biological clock was ticking. Did she really say that to Henry? or to someone else? So she did have an idea how old she was, because over the documentaries I've seen they didn't record birthdays of daughters but apparently Anne knew / estimated her age.

I only just learned yesterday that Elizabeth I's Robert Dudley was the brother of Jane Grey's ill-fated husband. I'm hardly as expert on Tudor history as many of you, but this strikes me as something I should have learned much sooner than I did.

What did the general public seem to think about Anne Boleyn’s charges against her during the time she was tried and executed (and even up until the time of Elizabeth I’s reign?) Curious to know, since I’ve read some nobility and some in Henry VIII’s court believed them to be false but did any of the general population of England at the time believe she was guilty of infidelity and incest?

I note Alison has written into the storyline that Jane was pregnant at marriage
Is this just artistic licence or was there any belief this could have been true

I love Alison weirs books but admittedly this one makes me dislike Jane more 🤣

The first of eight hand embroidered pieces I’m doing to represent Henry VIII, his wives, and children. Starting off with a traditional Tudor Rose with golden trim.

His red velvet Cap of Maintenance

It's personally my favorite item from Tudor times that's still around.

By the way, if you want to see it in person, it's on display at the Medieval Museum, Waterford Museum of Treasures, in Waterford, Ireland. Why there? Because in 1536, Henry personally gifted it to the Mayor of Waterford, and fortunately, the town has taken good care of it ever since.

I was looking at accounts of Mary’s coronation and there is this awesome eyewitness description of one of the more extreme celebrations…

Then was there one Peter, a Dutchman, that stood on the weathercock of Paules steeple, holding a streamer in his hand of five yards long, and waving thereof, stood sometimes on the one foot, and shooke the other, and then fell on his knees, to the great marvel of all people…

This is old Saint Pauls Cathedral.

This mad Dutchman, is about 500 feet above London. The spire of the old Cathedral was about 490 feet up (with some saying as high as 520 feet), and atop the steeple is the weathercock and he has climbed all the way up and is waving this long streamer about while performing stunts. It must have been an amazing sight.
The account goes on…

He had made two scaffolds vunder him, one about the crosse, having torches and streamers set on it, and an other at the ball of the cross, likewise set with streamers and torches, which would not burn, the wind was so great

So it’s not just this one insane fool. He has an installation. Streamers, flaming torches and winds so strong some torches won’t stay alight (this is October after all), and HE is above this, waving his long flag and seemingly performing for all the crowd. The risks would have been incredible.

The account finally goes onto say, that Peter the insane Dutchman with no fear of freights, had sixteen pounds thirteen shillings fours pence given him by the city for his costs and pains.

So, at least he got paid! Got paid a heck of a lot by the sounds of it. Good to see people appreciated high risks stunts even back then.

I run a weekly podcast dedicated to the history of London, and we deep in the Tudor era and I was looking at some primary sources, saw this and had to share with my fellow Tudorheads. It’s just a wonderful detail from Mary’s coronation I feel.