Henry VIII dies in 1536

desmirelle

August - September 1543

It was almost inevitable. A single Charles Brandon, a willing and beautiful woman, Francis wanting her out of France, and a marriage. The woman in question was named Agnes, and she was the great-great-granddaughter of Charles VII of France and his trend-setting mistress, Agnes Sorel. Her father was the comte and by rights, her husband could claim the title under the terms of the title given to her grandfather’s family over a century before. But her father’s brother wanted the title (at least to use) and was a friend of the French monarch. So, for more money than Francis would ever admit to putting out, he dowered Agnes with (theoretically) 10 percent more than the properties would pay over her projected lifespan (negotiated to be 70 years, giving Brandon 49 years of money) and Brandon even got the concession that, should her uncle have no legitimate male heirs, Agnes’ eldest son by Brandon would reclaim the title. Agnes was happy, being a duchess was the highest title anyone in her family legitimately since her great-great-grandfather. Her father was pious and spent at least a third of each year in a monastery since the death of Agnes’ mother in childbirth sixteen years before. He agreed to the terms for two reasons: he only had to contribute the dowry already set aside for Agnes, his brother and the king would handle the rest and it meant he didn’t have to fear Francis’ eyes upon his daughter and her honor (he’d managed to keep her away from court for just this reason).


And it was forgivable because Brandon also got Francis to agree to what James, Mary and Charles V wanted: a decision from the Pope on the issue (a supposedly neutral party who had already told Charles what he’d decided). In honor of his success at his official business, the King and Queen made the couple guest of honor at the banquet celebrating it. Agnes was beautiful, intelligent, and spoke five languages along with her mother tongue. And Mary loved her at first meeting, as much as she hadn’t planned to.


The Baroness Latimer was disappointed (along with others) that the Duke of Suffolk returned from France a married man. She was doubly disappointed, because she’d been shocked at the recent for the dissolution of the Earl of Wiltshire’s marriage. She’d been under the impression that the Earl, even if he didn’t follow the new teachings, allowed his wife the freedom to choose for herself; but the Countess’ arrest, recantation and current residence alarmed her. Therefore, when Thomas Seymour showed renewed interest in her, she showed renewed interested in finding out what the Queen needed at that moment. It was while she was assisting the Queen when she met David Douglas, Earl of Angus, who was there to escort the Queen to York before the couple went to Scotland and then to Ireland for Christmas as a first official visit to the newest part of their kingdom. When Mary offered to allow Baroness Latimer to remain (believing her to be interested in Seymour), the Baroness requested to either join the Queen’s retinue or to be allowed to return to her lands north and explained her distrust of both Thomas Seymour (despite his attractiveness) and her ability to put up a defense because of her own weakness as a woman. Catherine was added to Mary’s retinue and Seymour’s request to join as part of the escort was denied, he was to assist the Duke of Norfolk and the Marquess of Hamilton in their part of the papal evaluation of the disputed lands near Calais. (The Duke’s thanks to the Queen for the assistance of Seymour was a model of irony.)
 
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desmirelle

October 1543 – February 1544

It was decided after Mary’s arrival at York that Edinburgh would be visited after Ireland, to prevent the weather from stopping their visit. Sir Francis Bryan arrived on horseback, having ridden hard with a four-man escort, to York hoping to catch their majesties before they left it. Bryan was as bemused as he was tired. A lot had happened in the short time they were gone. He filled them in before giving them the letters. The Baroness Latimer was wise to have come with the queen was his first comment. The Earl of Wiltshire was looking for another wife amongst her ladies still at court. His first interest was Madge Shelton, whose late fiancé, Thomas Clere (a poet, Bryan said), had left her property and money. But Mistress Shelton had Sir Anthony Heveningham on her line and gave Seymour short shrift; he then tried the Bassett sisters Anne and Katharine, getting only a cold shoulder from Kate, but Anne was always willing to listen to someone praise her looks and was willing to be obliging providing it could be kept secret. (Mary interpreted that as personal experience comment.) Bryan then handed over the letters, telling them he’d put them in order.


The first was from Arthur Plantagenet, Lord Lisle and his equally indignant wife Honor. They charged the Earl of Wiltshire of compromising Anne and making sure others knew of his sins against her. The second was from Anne Bassett herself, claiming that Seymour had put her into a position where she could not defend herself from his advances without compromising her reputation. (When Mary expressed disbelief over this, the Vicar of Hell told her, with a smile, that it was easier to do than she thought; honorable women do not expect dishonorable behavior from men at court – for the most part. She decided she believed him, and that it was possible Anne had not cooperated deliberately.) The third letter from Seymour himself, who claimed that he’d been set up by the Lisles who were looking to advance their daughter above her station. This letter was dated the day after the letters from the Lisles and Mistress Bassett.


The next letter was from the Duke of Norfolk, who informed their majesties that he was unable to take the Earl of Wiltshire with him for fear the Earl’s dishonorable behavior in England would: one, continue during the mission and impugn their majesties’ honor abroad; and, two, even if he conducted himself impeccably, word of his behavior would get abroad and still endanger the mission. He took personal responsibility for the dismissal and agreed in advance to take whatever punishment they meted out should they find his decision rash or not for the reasons he had given. The fourth letter was from Reginald Pole, who wrote to inform their majesties of the entire shameful series of events and the actions he had taken. Pole believed, unlike the Lisles and against Anne’s claims, that it was a mutual indiscretion between Mistress Bassett and the Earl; he advised the Duke to dismiss the Earl from the mission; Pole then stated that since the couple was already wed in the eyes of the church, that he’d wed them officially with the Duke of Norfolk and Sir Francis Bryan as witnesses, then sent the couple from court to Hever until their majesties’ return to London.


Bryan was thanked and sent home with letters: to the Lisles and the new couple, congratulations on the happy event; to Norfolk, commendation on accepting Pole’s advice; and to Pole, gratitude for settling the matter with a minimum of fuss.


Ireland proved lovely but exhausting. Every English family and every Irish clan wished to meet their sovereigns, leading to James’ catching a cold and being abed for New Year celebrations. Mary continued on, but was as relieved as James to be headed home after the Feast of the Epiphany. James’ cold continued and became a worry for Mary; she was in love with her husband and feared facing ruling both countries alone until Jamie came of age. But he began to recover the second week of February, just as Mary suspected she might once more be pregnant.


March – April 1544

Francis I remarried on the first. His bride, Sophia Jagiellon, was the daughter of Polish King Sigismund I (the old) and his Italian second wife Bona Sforza. The princess was 22, and Francis was hopeful of more sons with her. However, the rumors were that Francis’ ‘illness’ (as it was delicately put) would not permit this.


The papal decision on Calais and its ‘expansion’ was as Charles V, James and Mary expected and Francis found most unpalatable: a 100 year decision for England, at which time (5 January 1644), France could request another inquiry and provide evidence that France would be a better steward of the land than the English had been. The Scots-English troops remained through September, with Francis withdrawing his men in June.


During the royal court’s stay at Edinburgh, the Baroness Latimer became the Countess of Angus, wedding David Douglas with the royal blessing. When the progress south began in late April, she remained in Scotland.
 

desmirelle


May 1544

Charles and Agnes became parents to Philippe on the 20th, while their majesties were in York. Thomas and Anne Seymour’s son Thomas was born on the 21st, a month before expected, and lived until the 29th. Seymour had asked to return to court in the same letter he informed the monarchs of the child. Mary’s quickening had been announced in all their realm the day before they received the letter and she was shocked and dismayed at Seymour’s cavalier attitude towards his tragedy and how she knew his wife must be feeling. James replied (Mary’s letter was written in harsher terms than his) that at the present, Seymour’s place was home comforting Anne and from experience James assured him that running from the pain of the loss would not lessen it.


June – August 1544

York was spent in debate. Laws that worked well in England did not work well in Scotland, or in Ireland, or both. Compromises were hard to work out; Mary (and James) called on the person who’d done a spectacular job on the marriage contract: Robert Aske. He was in a private practice but set it aside to help their majesties in working out what would work in the differing countries. In the end, only parts of the problem were solved, with other problems to be solved at later dates.


By August, everyone was happy to leave York (Aske and most of the rest of York were happy all the visitors had gone: two months of debating Irish, Scots and Englishmen (not to mention the contingent of Welshmen who clamored for recognition as a separate country) had worn the hospitality of the city quite thin.


James and the seven-months along Mary went south to London where they learned that Elizabeth was once more bringing up her betrothal. When Mary had her brought to her chambers for (another) conversation, Elizabeth eyed Mary’s belly as she entered the rooms. Mary soon learned that the wife of one of James’ English courtiers had died in childbed. Elizabeth had been found of Beth and was now fearful that marriage and childbirth would kill her. Mary patiently explained that it was unusual for childbirth to kill a woman, but owned that it was painful. Elizabeth became hysterical once more (her usual reaction when presented with something she didn’t wish to deal with). However, Mary was now becoming used to these outbursts and they no longer upset her as they once did. She simply waited until Elizabeth realized she wasn’t getting the reaction she wanted and calmed down. When Elizabeth saw that Mary wasn’t reacting, the girl drew angry and began screaming that she wasn’t going to marry anyone. Mary listened and then told Elizabeth that if she didn’t marry, she would go into a convent where she would remain for the rest of her life. Elizabeth responded with she would like to be an abbess; to which Mary replied Elizabeth, because of the disobedience to the King and Queen in refusing to marry, would never be qualified to become an abbess; that was for women who had a calling to being a nun, not disobedient girls who went into the convent because they could not get their way. The sullen Elizabeth was then taken back to her rooms where she could contemplate her choices.
 
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desmirelle

Do you think she'd like being 'just' a nun, with no advancement beyond "You get to supervise this or that while the others do it."? That's where I'm running into sister v. sister conflict. Both want their way. Mary can't imagine NOT wanting to be married and while Elizabeth doesn't have a calling to be a nun, she also likes her own way. It will be interested in seeing what happens. (I write organically and sometimes what I plan isn't what happens.)
 

VVD0D95

Banned
desmirelle said:
Do you think she'd like being 'just' a nun, with no advancement beyond "You get to supervise this or that while the others do it."? That's where I'm running into sister v. sister conflict. Both want their way. Mary can't imagine NOT wanting to be married and while Elizabeth doesn't have a calling to be a nun, she also likes her own way. It will be interested in seeing what happens. (I write organically and sometimes what I plan isn't what happens.)
Click to expand...

I think judging by how you've written her, if she gets it into her head to be a nun, she'll like it.
 

desmirelle

September – October 1544

James understood his sister-in-law better than did his wife. So, he called in a favor and a certain Scots lassie, born with the title Lady and now addressed as “Sister Clotilde Mary Faith” was called to join the royal retinue to ‘assist’ with the Lady Elizabeth’s religious education. Elizabeth would learn about what a nun without a calling did from Sister Clotilde and (if Sister Clotilde was successful) she would be able to leave the convent since her untitled young man (a blacksmith) was patiently still waiting for her.


News from Scotland was that the Countess of Angus was with child looked for in February. She asked for permission to name the child after whichever of her sovereigns was appropriate and if at least one of them would consent to being a godparent. James replied, approving the first request and telling her that whomever the child was named for would stand as a godparent, if she didn’t remind a stand-in for the christening.


For a man who professed he found his wife repellent, Thomas Seymour’s body was not in sync with his head: Anne was already pregnant again. His elder brother’s wife had just had a stillborn daughter and his youngest sister Elizabeth had just died in childbirth, followed a week later by the babe.


Mary went into confinement on the 5th of September and delivered Robert on October 18th. He was large, had been expected a fortnight before his arrival and proved to have a great set of lungs; the latter showed off profusely at his christening.
 

desmirelle

And now I come to choices: Little Jamie is of age to betroth (by the standards of James and Mary).

There seems to be a dearth of princesses. Please, feel free to submit names and the reason Jamie's folks should take her seriously. Anyone born after 1545 is disqualified as not being alive to be betrothed.
 

desmirelle

November 1544

Renata of Lorraine was the choice for Jamie. There had been others, but Mary “had a feeling” when this newborn’s name was mentioned. James had been inclined elsewhere, but had learned that a certain tone of voice meant arguing with the Queen born a Tudor was pointless and led only to headaches. Since James found no reason not to accept Renata, the betrothal went ahead.


Elizabeth’s courses had started. She was, of course, hysterical and took to her bed for the entirety of it, complaining endlessly of pain and dying of the blood loss. When informed this would most likely happen every month, she fainted dramatically. No one was surprised at any of this, it had been expected; the queen had warned them (unnecessarily, they all knew Lady Elizabeth). At the end of the “ordeal” (as Elizabeth called it), Sister Clotilde pointed out that she wouldn’t be allowed to behave like that in a convent: she’d end up spending her courses face down in front of the altar praying for the grace to accept the curse of Eve. That she wouldn’t be allowed to behave as she wished and would have to do things as a nun that she did not wish had never actually occurred to Elizabeth, despite her intelligence. She decided marriage to Henry Stanley might not be the ordeal being a nun would be, after all.
 

desmirelle

Touchdown with the extra point! Sister Clotilde is now back to being called Anice and is married to her blacksmith in Edinburgh!

[And besides the fact that it's played with a funny-shaped ball, that's about all I know about (American) football.]
 

desmirelle

December 1544 – April 1545

Having decided to wed after all, Elizabeth now decided she should have a hand in planning it. The first decision she made was the wedding date: Valentine’s Day, 1546. After a short discussion, James and Mary decided to let her have as much say as practical in planning it; to forestall any changing of her mind. So, 1546 it was and the Stanleys were informed of the date. She also decided that she would wear green with cloth of gold, to offset her hair after being told it would not be appropriate for her to wear simply cloth of gold or silver alone. She was authorized to wear velvet, so green velvet with an underskirt of cloth of gold (allowed by Mary and confounding James, who understood Elizabeth better than he did his wife sometimes – although he didn’t really like Elizabeth and both liked and loved Mary).

The Countess of Angus gave birth prematurely to a daughter she named Mary. The life of the child was an iffy thing, but she was hung on. Mary Howard Stewart, Countess of Lennox, represented the Queen at the christening. The Lennox match had turned into a success: in nearly seven years of marriage, they had two healthy sons and three healthy daughters to show for it.

Alexander was the next child to become engaged: Maria de Medici (another “feeling” – this time James’). She had been born in April of 1540 and the girls of the de Medicis tended to be beauties. There had been complaints (the Duke of Norfolk in particular) that the family wasn’t ‘high’ enough to merit marriage into the royal family, but the betrothal went ahead despite them.

April brought another Brandon: Angelique was born on the 7th, and a health scare for Charles: a small stroke kept him at home, nursed by a physician sent by James and his wife. He was excused from duty until he was well.
 

desmirelle

May 1545

The son of the Earl and Countess of Wiltshire was christened Arthur, after Anne’s step-father. Thomas Seymour was at court when the birth occurred and did not return home for the christening, so his complaint to the King about the child’s name were disregarded. Lord Arthur Seymour and his sister Lady Margery remained at Hever while Thomas was posted to Calais alone. His in-laws were at home with their daughter and grandchildren (they claimed Margery as well).

Elizabeth again took to her bed for the entirety of her menstrual cycle, complaining endlessly of her cramping and ‘fearing for her life by loss of blood should it not stop’; and then complaining indignantly that her ladies were laughing at her. The Queen, preparing for the progress, took the time to tell her that she deserved laughing at, behaving as if she were the only woman to which this had happened. The Queen also informed Elizabeth that she was being sent to the Duchess of Norfolk as soon as this course was finished and the Duchess had strict instructions about what Elizabeth’s conduct was to be during the next. Elizabeth fainted twice during the Queen’s orders and was informed by her half-sister that the next time she fainted during her cycle, she would be left to recover where she lie, whether it be bed, floor, or the midden. This was a woman’s lot and Elizabeth would have to learn to live with it in grace and dignity; if she could not, then she deserved to be a laughing-stock. Every other woman in the kingdom dealt with it, so would Elizabeth. Mary withdrew and went back to her duties, leaving a stunned Lady Elizabeth in her wake.
 

desmirelle

June – August 1545

Dorothy, Countess of Derby, was told of Elizabeth’s theatrics and Mary’s orders regarding them. The Countess of Derby was the half-sister of the Duke of Norfolk and shared his dislike of over-reactions to life’s realities. She promised the Queen that her son would be apprised of the possibilities of his wife’s actions prior to the marriage. She approved of Mary’s moving Elizabeth out of the royal nursery and into the care of her sister-in-law. The Duke’s wife (from whom he was estranged) was the daughter of the last Duke of Buckingham and not apt to approve of Elizabeth’s attempts to get her way. She was also to show Lady Elizabeth the necessary skills to run a grand house.

There was an attempt to burn the monastery at Winchester by a group of reformists who claimed that the Catholic church was blasphemous and idolatrous. Only ten of the culprits were caught, the monks claimed (as did witnesses) that there were at least thirty, perhaps more, had been involved. The chalice had been taken from the altar, along with the cross, and when the thieves were found, they were found because they attempted to sell the items. The man who was caught with the chalice claimed that he’d taken it from his brother’s home. It turned out to be the truth: the brother admitted it with pride and condemned his brother; not for turning him in, but for using papist symbols for personal gain. Of the twelve, the brother caught selling the chalice was treated as a thief; the other eleven were tried as heretics. Four repented, but the other seven were burned as examples of what befell those who fell away from the church.

The responses from other areas were mixed. Scotland experienced a rash of thefts and desecrations across the lowlands, with few caught and held accountable. A reformists caught trying to burn a church in Wales was lynched from the bell tower before the crowd could be stopped. Ireland had no reported incidents, but then they were fighting amongst themselves over who was the premiere clan and had no time to care about ransacking churches and disputing theologies.

Mary believed she was pregnant in July, but August brought her courses once more. She was born relieved and a bit saddened, but enjoyed being able to hunt with her husband as they approached Scotland.
 

desmirelle

September – November 1545

Edinburgh was glad that Jamie had been brought along with his parents; also along for the trip was Katy Rose, whom Scotland considered a Scottish Princess first and foremost. Lady Elizabeth Tudor had written a letter to her half-sister, requesting permission to visit Scotland and spent Christmas with her there, her last as a single woman. Mary had already declined the request before beginning the progress and replied that it would not be polite, having put the Duchess of Norfolk to so much trouble to arrange Christmas for Elizabeth, to have it all be for naught.

In October the Duchess (and the Earl of Surry) reported that the Lady Elizabeth tried to take to her bed for her cycle in September, but since the Duchess did not serve meal in rooms unless the person was ill and the Lady Elizabeth was not ill – uncomfortable, but not ill. Elizabeth came down for breakfast, picked at her meal, then asked for leave to return to her room. The Duchess informed her that, no, right now she was going find out the things about running a household she was going to need to if she was to have any rank higher than Lady Elizabeth.

“But I am tired,” Elizabeth to the Duchess, smiling beguilingly. “I will nap now and learn later.” She placed her hand on her lower belly. “The time of women is a sore trial.”

“You will be less tired if you do not give in to it. Come, we’ll begin with the kitchens,” said the Duchess and turned to go.

“But I am tired and will rest! Did you not hear me? I will learn about the kitchens later,” the latter was said with almost a hiss.

The Duchess turned slowly. “Yes, Lady, I heard you. Now hear me: you will do as I bid you. You have been sent here to learn how –“

“I AM TIRED! I AM GOING TO REST! I am the daughter of a King and you are but the –“ Anything else Elizabeth was going to say was lost as the Duchess slapped her across the face. Elizabeth stared in shock at the older woman as an angry red welt spread across her face.

“You are the bastard daughter of a dead King.” The Duchess said calmly. “I am the daughter of a man declared a traitor by that King. I am the wife of the premiere noble in England, the Duke of Norfolk. You are a child and are behaving like a spoiled one. I will not have that from anyone in my charge. You are here to prepare for your place as the wife of the heir of the Earl of Derby. It is my understanding their majesties intend to bestow your late mother’s Marquess upon your husband, which will require even more from you if you are to behave as a Marchioness. However, if you do not learn what is required, you will be forced into a convent and may spend your life serving.” She took a deep breath. “We are going to the kitchen so that I may show you the keeping of it. Come.” Without waiting to see if Elizabeth would follow, she turned and left.

Elizabeth stared after her for a moment, then began following at a much slower pace. By the time she reached the kitchen, the duchess was already seated at the large table there and a page was bringing her a ledger. When everyone turned to look at her, Elizabeth fell to the ground as if in a faint.

“Leave her,” came the duchess’ voice. “It is but drama to try my patience. The book?”

Elizabeth heard footsteps behind her, then felt the walker step over her.

“So that’s what their majesties were on about.” The voice belonged to the Earl of Surrey. She heard his footsteps cross to the table and him seat himself. “Ale, bread, and cheese,” he said. “How long has she been lying there, mother?”

“A moment before you arrived, she’ll soon get tired of the floor and rise.”

There were more sounds, Surrey was being served. “I hear she’s marvelously stubborn, like her father.” He said as he ate, the words slurred a bit by it. “If you were father, I’d wager you on how long she stays there.” There were more footsteps behind her.

“Step over, she’s fine,” came the duchess’ voice. The walker did as bid.

The stone floor was near freezing and the cold was creeping through her gown as well. Elizabeth finally decided to awake and made a show of pushing herself up.

“What happened?” she asked.

“You lay on the floor until you realized I was going to have no one help you. Now, get up and over here so that we may begin,” replied the Duchess. Elizabeth noted that she had not looked up from the ledger, but Surrey was watching her with a wide grin on his face. When she glared at him, he shrugged, still grinning.

“My mother has seen faintings before, Lady, both real and feigned. And she’s dealt with my father for years and years; you would do well, as I did growing up, to do as she tells you.” He motioned for more ale. “And a glass for my mother and Lady Elizabeth,” he added.

“My sister the Queen will hear of this treatment of me,” Elizabeth announced as she stood.

“Her majesty your half-sister is the one who told me of this trick of yours and what to do when you pulled it,” the Duchess looked up from the ledger. “And rest assured, she shall hear of it from me as well. Now, do we begin? Or shall I treat you as a rebellious child again? I promise, I do not yield to rebels.”

“Aye, girl, you may be sure of that,” echoed Surrey.

“I am not girl, I am Lady Elizabeth Tudor, daughter of Henry VIII,” Elizabeth corrected as she marched over to the table and sat down sullenly as a servant poured ale for her and the others at the table.

“When you behave like a lady, he will call you such,” the duchess said. “He is the Earl of Surry, and you are a mere Lady. When you are a Countess, you may complain to your husband of what my son calls you and your husband can speak to him of it. But when you act like a spoiled girl, you will be called one. Complain to yourself when you look in the mirror, but not to me when you’ve earned the name you’re called.”

November’s report from the Duchess was that while still complaining to no end of the cramps and bleeding, Elizabeth tried only one day to escape her lessons and was permitted one afternoon’s indulgence. And Elizabeth was learning quickly, the Duchess also reported.
 

desmirelle

February 1546

Elizabeth changed her mind, not about marrying Henry Stanley, but about the color of her gown. First, it was green, then (when she had sounded out Mary) purple, then green once more, then yellow, then purple again and finally robin’s egg blue. It was finished two days before the wedding. Henry’s color had never changed from the dark blue his parents had chosen; he did not care about the colors worn, he was looking forward to becoming a Marquess (not until after the birth of the first child, the King had told him) and outranking his father. Mary and James attended, hidden behind screens where they heard sermons and mass, seated with a fully recovered (credit to Agnes) Charles Brandon and his wife, half-way through her third pregnancy. Mary had just realized she, too, was pregnant, so she and Agnes quietly discussed remedies for morning sickness while the men talked about hunting and whether or not young Henry Stanley’s father would survive being outranked by his son once Elizabeth gave birth. The ceremony was solemn and the Stanleys proudly sat and watched as their son wed Henry VIII’s youngest child. Elizabeth, true to form, remained stoic and her emotions were unreadable, but her spouse was proud and it showed.

Francis showed his regard for the nuptials by making a move against Calais, and the Duke of Norfolk was responding, along with Imperial troops. The movement was short, Francis was not well and the endeavor was over before the wedding actually took place. The Duke and all troops were remaining in France, shoring up the defenses. At the end of the month, the Pope issued a stern warning to the King of France (and his successor): any breach of the peace would be met with an interdict on the country. The Pope had been asked and delivered a verdict on the lands Francis coveted, France would abide or face consequences from the judge in the matter.
 
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