After Philip left again in July 1557, Mary persuaded herself that she was once more pregnant. It was all she had to cling to, as she faced more rumours of murder plots, more threats of revolt, more furor over the burnings and a new indication of her subjects’ total disenchantment: the new religion was defiantly and openly practiced again, and the Catholic churches once filled by fear or resignation were empty. As if this were not enough, the French took advantage of Philip’s preoccupations to seize Calais, early in 1558. This last English possession in France was something of a symbol to the public, and its capture was greeted with howls of rage and resentment.

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By the end of October 1558, having kept up the fiction for over a year, Mary was finally forced to concede that her second child had been as much a myth as the first. She also realized that despite her constant pleas and prayers, Philip would never come back to her. Mary’s failure as a woman, Queen and Catholic could hardly have been more complete. By mid November, her spirit had broken and she was dying. Her last days were embittered by the knowledge that already the embryo of a Protestant, anti-Spanish court was gathered around Elizabeth, her successor.

When the news spread that Mary’s end was near, Londoners prepared once more to celebrate, and when she expired, just after 7:00 a.m. on 17th November, joyous bells pealed out all over the city, and there was dancing in the streets.

Time did little to mute the hatred and loathing in which Mary was held. For decades afterwards, the anniversary of her death was regarded as a holiday and a festive occasion. Soon, there grew the spectre of Bloody Mary, a cruel, vengeful Queen, shackling her people to a religion they despised and a foreign power they detested. Today, the image still remains of a ghoulish female, reveling in the gore of the Protestant martyrs. It will, no doubt, persist, despite any proof that Mary might have been more misguided than murderous, and more foolish than fearsome. For if anyone was ill-starred it was Mary Tudor. Few monarchs of England have been so completely robbed of achievement by Nature. Yet, at the same time, few did quite so much and so diligently to compound their own misfortunes and seal their own fate.

This article was written by Brenda Ralph Lewis for British Heritage magazine.

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