The Queen is Dead: The Death and Burial of Mary I

It's probably not unfair to say that Queen Mary I died of a broken heart, though medically it was probably ovarian cancer that lead to her demise. Mary's life was one of unrelenting sorrow and disappointment.

After a golden childhood in which she was the cherished "pearl" of her father's kingdom, Mary's life was thrown into misery when Anne Boleyn entered the picture and her father sought an annulment from her mother. Mary refused to accept her father's position on the divorce, or as head of the church. She believed denying the authority of the pope was tantamount to denying Catholicism as a whole, and accepting that her parents had never been married was a lie that would damn her soul. Mary was exiled from court, separated from her beloved mother and refused permission to see her, even as Katharine lay dying. She eventually broke down under her father's relentless bullying and submitted to him, but their relationship was never the same.

When she came to the throne, Mary saw it as a chance to set everything right again and restore England to the enchanted, golden kingdom she remembered from her childhood. She expected her own marriage to be as happy as she remembered her parents' union as being before Henry was "lured away" by Anne. Mary was half in love with her husband before she even met him. She began rolling back the religious reforms of her father and brother's reigns, expecting the English people would be grateful to be taken back into the arms of the Catholic church.

She was deeply disappointed on both accounts.

By 1558, she was a broken woman, abandoned by her indifferent husband after two false pregnancies, and bewildered by the persistent "heresy" she fought so hard to eradicate from her kingdom. Strange that a woman who venerated saints martyred for their faith wouldn't understand why burning "heretics" didn't have the desired effects.

As Mary lay in her bed in St. James Palace, the halls echoed with silence. The court had abandoned her as well, flocking to her sister Elizabeth, who would soon wear the crown. It was something Elizabeth never forgot - how Mary had been abandoned by the fickle court as she lay on her deathbed. It was one of the reasons Elizabeth always resisted naming her heir, delaying unto the last moments of her life.

Mary slept longer and longer hours as her illness sapped her strength, and toward the end, her moments of lucidity were few. But she was able to make her will. In the end, Mary couldn't quite bring herself to name her sister as heir, saying only that the throne should pass as the law dictated.

John Foxe wrote of her death in his Acts and Monuments:

As touchyng the maner of whose death, some say that she dyed of a Tympany, some by her much sighing before her death, supposed she dyed of thought and sorow. Whereupon her Counsell seyng her sighing, and desirous to know the cause, to the ende they might minister the more ready consolation vnto her, feared, as they sayd, that she tooke that thought for the kynges Maiesty her husband, whiche was gone from her. To whom he aunsweryng agayne: In deede (sayd she) that may be one cause, but þt is not the greatest wound that pearseth my oppressed minde: but what that was she would not expresse to them.

Jane Dormer's account says Mary gave her ladies pious exhortations, and had pleasant visions of angelic little children playing around her bed and singing.

Her sickness was such as made the whole realm to mourn, yet passed by her with most Christian patience. She comforted those of them that grieved about her; she told them what good dreams she had, seeing many little children like Angels play before her, singing pleasing notes, giving her more than earthly comfort; and thus persuaded all, ever to have the holy fear of God before their eyes, which would free them from all evil, and be a curb to all temptations. She asked them to think that whatsoever came to them was by God's permission; and ever to have confidence that He would in mercy turn all to the best.

From the time of her Mother's troubles, this queen had daily use of patience and few days of content, but only those that she established and restored the Catholic Religion to her kingdoms. While she was queen, in those few years, she suffered many conspiracies, and all out of malicious humours to God's truth. She gave commandment to all, both of her Council, and servants, to stand fast in the Catholic religion ; and with those virtuous and Christian advices, still in prayer and hearing good lessons, receiving the holy Sacraments of the Church, left this world, which was the 17th day of November, 1558.

That morning hearing Mass, which was celebrated in her chamber, she being at the last point (for no day passed in her life that she heard not Mass) and although sick to death, she heard it with so good attention, zeal, and devotion, as she answered in every part with him that served the Priest; such yet was the quickness of her senses and memory. And when the Priest came to that part to say, Agnus Dei, qui follis peccata mundi, she answered plainly and distinctly to every one, Miserere nobis, Miserere nobis, Dona nobis pacem.

Afterwards seeming to meditate something with herself, when the Priest took the Sacred Host to consume it, she adored it with her voice and countenance, presently closed her eyes and rendered her blessed soul to God. This the duchess hath related to me, the tears pouring from her eyes, that the last thing which the queen saw in this world was her Saviour and Redeemer in the sacramental species; no doubt to behold Him presently after in His glorious Body in heaven. A blessed and glorious passage.

Reality probably wasn't so inspiring. Mary was given last rites just before midnight on Wednesday, November 16, 1558 and mass was celebrated in her chamber for the last time at dawn the following morning. Afterwards, Mary fell asleep and died somewhere between five and seven AM. One account says she passed so quietly that no one noticed for a while, which is why we don't know the exact time of her death.

The few remaining courtiers scattered, everyone hoping to get to Elizabeth first with the news. Sir Nicholas Throckmorton pulled a ring from Mary's finger (some sources say it was her coronation ring; others say it was her betrothal ring) and took it to Elizabeth as proof of the queen's death, but was crushed when he arrived and discovered that his news was already rendered "stale" by the arrival of the council.

Mary's body was left with the handful of loyal household attendants who would prepare her for burial. They didn't have undertakers in the Tudor era. It was Mary's own physicians and household officers that embalmed her, rendering their final services to their queen. Her mother, Katharine of Aragon was embalmed by her chandler, the household officer in charge of candles and soap.

Mary was disemboweled by her surgeons and her heart and lungs were removed. The Clerk of the Spicery and the chandlers packed body's cavity with spices and herbs before wrapping it in cerecloth, a wax-coated white cloth used for burial shrouds. (Agnes Strickland cites an early historian, Gregorio Leti, who claimed Mary was buried in the habit of a nun, but considering she was uxorious in the extreme, I think it's unlikely.)

The cloth-wrapped body was enclosed in sheets of lead by the "serjeant plummer," and then was placed inside a coffin. It was covered in purple velvet and decorated with lace and gold gilt nails - exactly the kind of coffin that Mary would have wanted.

As was common, the organs that had been removed were buried separately. Mary's heart was placed in a silver casket lined with velvet and buried in the Chapel Royal of St. James. Her entrails might have gone to Westminster Abbey, because this interesting tidbit is found in the Memoir of Richard Busby.

About the beginning of the year 1670, the funeral obsequies of General Monk were celebrated previously to which a royal vault was opened in which were two urns; one appropriated to Queen Mary, the other to Queen Elizabeth. I dipped my hand into each. I took out of each a kind of glutinous red substance, somewhat resembling mortar. That of Mary only contained less moisture.

For over twenty days, Mary lay in state inside St. James, candles flickering around her bier. Elizabeth had ordered the highest respects be paid to her sister, modeling the services on those performed for her father. With one difference, however - Mary's rites were fully Catholic. Her ladies prayed around the clock beside her coffin, while masses were said for Mary's soul.

On December 13, the funeral began. Mary's coffin was placed on a magnificently bedecked hearse and drawn to Westminster Abbey. On top of the coffin lay a wooden effigy, dressed in one of Mary's own gowns, holding a scepter and wearing a crown. Embalming being as primitive as it was, the wooden or wax effigy would lie in view for the month-long duration of the funeral instead of the actual body, so they felt it was important for it to be as lifelike as possible.

Elizabeth spared no expense in decking out the chapel for the service:

First, the Chapel was hanged with black cloth and garnished with scutcheons. The Altar was trimmed with purple velvet, and in the Dean's place was hanged a canopy of purple velvet, and in the midst of the said Chapel there was made a Hearse 4 square of 46 great Tapers, the which did weigh 20 lbs. weight, the piece being wrought with Crowns and Rosses of the same, and beneath the same Tapers a Vallance of Sarcenet, with the'Queen's worde ' written with letters of gold, and a fringe of gold about the same Vallance, and within that Vallance a Vallance of Buckrum with a fringe of black silk. The said Hearse was richly set with 'penceles and Seochins of Arms in metall.' There was under the said Hearse a Majestie of Taffeta with a Dome gilded, and 4 Evangelists in the 4 Corners of the said Majestie.

The 6 posts were covered with black velvet, and on every post a 'scochin' of sarcenet in fine gold, the rayle of the same hearse within was hanged with a broad black cloth and the ground within both railes covered with black cloth, also the other side of the stools, which was instead of tbe rails on each side, was hanged with black. At each end there was made a Rail over what the said Chapel, which was also hanged with black and garnished with seochins ; within the rayles stood 15 stools covered with fine black cloth, and on the same 15 cushions of purple velvett, and under the feet 15 cushions of black clothe, at the head of the Hearse, without the rayle, there was made an altar, which stood on the left-hand of the Choir, covered with purple velvet, which was richly garnished with ornaments of the Church, which Chapel being thus furnished, order was given to the Serjeant of the Vestry for the safe keeping of the same till such time as the said Royal corpse was brought down unto the said Chapell.

Some sources say Elizabeth made dark hints about her displeasure if the court didn't turn out for Mary's funeral, so it was a parade of the highest nobles in the land.

Then the Bushope of Worcester and other bushops, with the Queen's Chapel went up to fetch the said Corpse, and the Chapel stayed in the Great Chamber and the said Bushops went into the Chamber where the corpse was, and censed it and said divers prayers, and after the said Corpse was taken up by 8 Gentlemen and all the other sett in order, that is to say the Cross and on each side a white branch (carried by boys in surplices), then the Chapel, then all the Gentlemen and Squires with the Chaplains of no dignity, and on each side went the foresaid officers with torches and the said Guard also.

Then all Knights and after them Councillors—then Barons, Bishops (not in pontificalibus), then the Overseers, then Earls, then the Executors, then the Kings of Arms; then the Corpse covered with a Pall of Cloth of Tissue of Gold (with the Crown of Cloth of Tissue) on each side the Corpse two Noblemen, that is to say, the Marquis of Winchester, the Earl of Westmoreland, Earl of Shrewsbury, and the Earl of Derby which touched the Corpse with his hands, and over the said Corpse was borne a canopy of purple velvet with 6 blue 'knopes' borne by 6 gentlemen. Then after the Corpse the Chief Mourner the Lady Margaret Countess of Lynnoux assisted by the Earl of Huntingdon and Viscount Montague, her train born by the Lady Katherine Hastings assisted by the Vice-Chamberlain, and after her the other (14) mourners, two and two: after them the other Ladies and Gentlemen, then after followed the Garde, and in this order went into the Chapel where the Corpse was placed within the Hearse, and Mourners, on each side seven, and at the head the Chief Mourner, kneeling at the Stools and Cushions as is aforesaid.


The services were elaborate and lengthy, as Tudor royal funerals always were. Finally, after all of the ceremonies, Mary was buried in the chapel built by her grandfather, Henry VII.

Then the corpse was taken up by them that before bare the same and was carried to the chapel which was appointed for her burial, and there the foresaid Archbishop with the other Bishops said all the ceremonies. In the meantime of the saying of these prayers the iiij gentlemen ushers took away the pall, then the corpse was let into the grave and the Archbishop cast earth on the same.

Then came the noblemen, being officers, to the grave and brake their staves over their heads and cast the same into the grave; as the Lord Treasurer, the Lord Chamberlain, the Treasurer and Comptroller, the Sergeant Porter and the Gentlemen Ushers, their rods, and then they departed again to the other noblemen. And the burial ended, the Archbishop and the other Bishops did unrevest themselves. The ceremony of the burial done, as is aforesaid, of the said noble Queen (whose soul, God pardon!) the Noblemen and Prelates then there assembled, having with them the officers of arms, then came forth unto the face of the people, and Garter, principal King-of-Arms, assisted by ij Bishops, did declare the style of the Queen's Majesty in this manner.

"Of the most high, most puissant, and most excellent Princess, Elizabeth, by the grace of God, Queen of England, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, etc.; God save Queen Elizabeth." Unto the which word all the noblemen held up their hands and caps, and the trumpets standing in the Rood loft sounded; and this done all the estates and others departed to the Abbot's house to dinner.

All in all, this extravaganza cost over £7,662, which is the equivalent to several million dollars today. But Elizabeth insisted upon it. Any disrespect shown to a Tudor monarch disrespected her own crown, after all.

Mary's widowed husband, Philip II of Spain wrote to his aunt about his wife's passing at the end of a letter describing his peace negotiations with France:

The queen, my wife, is dead. May God have received her in his glory. I felt a reasonable regret for her death. I shall miss her even on this account.

He instructed his agent in England to represent him at the funeral and make sure to collect an extensive list of jewels he had left behind in England when he last departed. He was given back La Peregrina, the massive pearl he had given to Mary for their wedding. (It was recently auctioned off at the estate sale of Elizabeth Taylor to an anonymous buyer.)

Mary's will specified that her mother, Katharine of Aragon, was to be exhumed from her humble tomb in Peterborough Cathedral and brought to lie beside Mary, and an honorable tomb be erected in memory of the both of them.

Despite the honor Mary paid to her mother's memory, she had made no moves to rectify her mother's simple burial as a princess dowager during her five-year reign. She left it to the daughter of Anne Boleyn. Did Mary really believe Elizabeth would re-bury Katharine with the honors due a queen when Elizabeth's legitimacy rested upon the notion that Katharine was not?

The tomb was never built, but too much shouldn't be read into that. Elizabeth seemed to have an aversion to tomb building in general. She never marked Anne Boleyn's anonymous grave beneath the floor of St. Peter-ad-Vincula, nor did she build a tomb for her father, nor for her little brother, whose grave was unmarked until 1966. She didn't even build one for herself. That fell to James I, after Elizabeth's death.

Mary's grave was unmarked for nearly fifty years after her death. Sources record that rubble from altars broken up during the Reformation were piled up on top of her tomb. When Elizabeth died, she was temporarily interred with her grandfather, Henry VII until James could finish building her magnificent tomb. When it was finished 1606, James exhumed Mary and buried her within it as well.

Elizabeth's carved marble effigy is the one that decorates the lid of the tomb, and it is her achievements inscribed in Latin on the sides, but an inscription on the lower portion of the tom mentions Mary's presence as well:

Partners in throne and grave, here we sleep, Elizabeth and Mary, sisters, in hope of the Resurrection.

Perhaps Dean Stanley's epitaph was better than any inscribed on the tomb:

"The long war of the English Reformation is closed in those words. The sisters are at one; the daughter of Katherine of Aragon and the daughter of Anne Boleyn rest in peace at last."


The two coffins were placed into the same vault below the floor, Elizabeth's coffin placed on top of Mary's. For one last and final time, Mary was placed in a subordinate position to her half-sister.

The Historical Memorials of Westminster Abbey mentions that Elizabeth's and Mary's tomb was opened once during the search for the body of James I:

The excavations, however, had almost laid bare the wall immediately at the eastern end of the monument of Elizabeth, and through a small aperture a view was obtained into a low narrow vanlt immediately beneath her tomb. It was instantly evident that it enclosed two coffins, and two only, and it could not be doubted that these contained Elizabeth and her sister Mary. The upper one, larger, and more distinctly shaped in the form of the body, like that of Mary Queen of Scots, rested on the other.

There was no disorder or decay, except that the centering wood had fallen over the head of Elizabeth's coffin, and that the wood case had crumbled away at the sides, and had drawn away part Vault of of the decaying lid. No coffin-plate could be discovered,  but fortunately the dim light fell on a fragment of the lid slightly carved. This led to a further search, and the original inscription was discovered. There was the Tudor Badge, a full double rose, deeply but simply incised in outline on the middle of the cover; on each side the august initials E R: and below, the memorable date 1603. The coffin-lid had been further decorated with narrow moulded panelling. The coffin-case was of inch elm; but the ornamental lid containing the inscription and panelling was of fine oak, half an inch thick, laid on the inch elm cover. The whole was covered with red silk velvet, of which much remained attached to the wood, and it had covered not only the sides and ends, but also the ornamented oak cover, as though the bare wood had not been thought rich enough without the velvet.

The sight of this secluded and narrow tomb, thus compressing in the closest grasp the two Tudor sisters, ' partners of the same throne 'and grave, sleeping in the hope of resurrection '—the solemn majesty of the great Queen thus reposing, as can hardly be doubted by her own desire, on her sister's coffin—was the more impressive from the contrast of its quiet calm with the confused and multitudinous decay of the Stuart vault, and of the fulness of its tragic interest with the vacancy of the deserted spaces which had been hitherto explored in the other parts of the Chapel. The vault was immediately closed.

"May they rest in peace while we walk the generations around their strife and courage under these restless skies."


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Did Elizabeth I Ever Visit Anne Boleyn's Grave?

Elizabeth wearing one of her mother's
initial pendants, a letter "A"

Queen Elizabeth I seems to have had an aversion to tomb-building. Unlike most long-lived monarchs, she never began building her own tomb in her lifetime. Nor did she ever build the tomb her predecessor, Mary, asked for in her will (which Mary wanted to share with Katharine of Aragon, who never got a tomb, either.) Nor did Elizabeth build one for her little brother, the short-lived King Edward VI, or finish constructing the tomb for her father, Henry VIII. So, perhaps it's not surprising she never moved her mother from her grave in the chapel floor of St. Peter-ad-Vincula in the Tower of London.

From the ring she always wore that secretly concealed her mother's portrait, and the favor she showed her maternal relatives, Elizabeth held her mother's memory in honor, though she could never publicly speak about Anne Boleyn. To decree that her mother was innocent would be to defy her father, and the justice system as a whole. Some of the lords on the jury that condemned Anne were still living, and to say their verdict was unjust would be to call their integrity into question. It was a can of worms Elizabeth just couldn't open.

Courtesy of Findagrave.com

Though she never built a better tomb for her mother, did Elizabeth ever visit Anne Boleyn's grave in the Tower?

When Elizabeth was a prisoner there under the reign of her sister, she probably was never given the opportunity. There is some debate as to whether she was imprisoned in the Bell Tower or the royal apartments (which are no longer extant.)

In either case, she was eventually given a small measure of liberty to walk around the top of the wall or in the garden behind the royal apartments, but she would not have been allowed to walk all the way across the Green to the chapel. She would not even have been able to see the chapel, if she was lodged in the queen's apartments.

Map of the Tower of London in Elizabeth's day
with locations marked in color
The royal apartments are marked in red
The Coldharbor Gate is marked in green
The Bell Tower is marked in purple
St. Peter-ad-Vincula is marked in blue
The site of the scaffold would have
been to the right of the blue arrow

As queen, Elizabeth only stayed at the Tower of London a few times, probably because of its ugly memories and association. She stayed for a several days when she took symbolic possession of the Tower upon ascending to the throne in late November, 1559 and then the night before her coronation ceremony, as was the tradition. She left on the morning of her coronation and to my knowledge, never returned.

We have no record of Elizabeth ever visiting the chapel of St. Peter-ad-Vincula, but that's not certain proof that she didn't. But it wouldn't ordinarily be a place that a king or queen would go, and so it would have required a special trip, and thus been notable.

Elizabeth would not have attended religious services St. Peter-ad-Vincula, which was essentially a parish church for the soldiers, servants, and their families. The royal family worshipped at the Chapel of St. John on the second floor of the White Tower, or Elizabeth could have a private service in the chapel of the royal apartments (where Anne Boleyn received her last communion).

St. Peter-ad-Vincula was on the other side of the Tower from where the royal apartments were located, which meant a quiet private visit could not be accomplished. To get there, Elizabeth would have had to march past the Jewel House with its staring guards, through the Coldharbor Gate, across the wide expanse of the Green, trailing a large herd of ladies-in-waiting and curious courtiers. It would have caused a stir of gossip, something Elizabeth was trying hard to avoid.

With these factors in mind, it's unlikely Elizabeth ever visited Anne Boleyn's grave. But she honored her mother's memory in many other ways.


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The Repose of a King: The Burial Place of Henry VIII

Anne Boleyn lies buried beneath the chapel floor of St. Peter ad Vincula. Her husband, Henry VIII, did not even provide a coffin for her. Nothing beyond a length of white cerecloth (waxed linen) for a shroud. So busy was he in planning his wedding to her successor, Jane Seymour, it's likely he didn't give her final resting place much thought. Her grave wasn't even marked until the restoration of the chapel in the Victorian era. It was an ignominious end, meant to erase Anne's memory.

Fate, it seems, has a sense of irony.

Henry planned a magnificent show for his own resting place. He had begun planning his tomb in 1518, during his marriage to Katharine of Aragon. His ego is writ large in every word of the plans. It was intended to outshine the resting place of every monarch in Europe. In 1527, a commission to work on Henry's tomb was offered to an Italian sculptor to the tune of 75,000 ducats, which is the modern equivalent of six million, ninety thousand pounds today. The total weight of the bronze needed to complete it would have been 35,000 pounds.

The tomb was to be built of black and white marble, the exterior covered with semi-precious "oriental stones." Atop each of its ten soaring marble pillars was supposed to be the life-sized figure of an apostle, and in the center, above its canopy, a life-sized figure of the king mounted on a large horse. Gold-covered brass figures of the saints were supposed to surround the recumbent effigies of the king and queen. Massive nine foot candlesticks, each held by the figure of a child, stood between the pillars. A grand altar in a side chantry chapel was planned, where masses for Henry's soul would be said for "as long as the world shall endure." You can see some recreations of the plans here.

Sporadic work was done over the years, based on the expenses recorded in the king's papers. When Wolsey fell, the king seized the materials of the tomb Wolsey was building for himself, including his black marble sarcophagus, and incorporated them into a new design for Henry's own tomb. The disgraced Wolsey ended up in a churchyard, beneath a slab that begs for a little earth for charity's sake.

Despite the three queens that came after her, Henry decided he wanted to be buried next to Jane Seymour. In his mind, she had been his best queen, the one who gave him a son - like she was supposed to - and she had been polite enough to die before he could get tired of her. The perfect woman. After her death, Jane's coffin was stored in a vault beneath the floor of St. George's Chapel, Windsor until the tomb could be completed and she could be interred next to where her husband would rest.

It's difficult to know at this point how much of the tomb was actually completed and how much was just in the planning stages. From what was sold off during the Commonwealth, we can make a calculated guess:

As regards the extent to which the work was actually carried out by Benedetto and his assistants, we may conclude that the podium and the sarcophagus with its base were placed in position; that only two out of the ten panels of the upper bronze frieze of the podium were cast and fixed in their places; that the lower frieze was complete, but that the two intermediate panels at one end of the podium, between the panels of the “frezes” were wanting; that the ten bronze columns were finished all except two, which wanted their capitals; that seven out of the ten statues of apostles had been cast and mounted on their columns; that only nine out of the thirty-four small figures about the bases of the columns were executed; that the closure was complete except as regards its gates; and that the principal statue, the recumbent effigy of the King, was probably cast and in its place on the top of the sarcophagus.

There is nothing to show whether any progress had been made with the altar beyond the making of the small pillars which had been designed for Wolsey, but without them sufficient work is accounted for to explain the comparatively large sum which the bronze fetched when sold as old metal at a forced sale during a time of civil war.

Perhaps the gargantuan cost was enough to make even Henry flinch, which is why completion was delayed. There also seems to have been a problem with the plans because the weight of the canopy could not be borne by the supports.

It's likely Henry thought he had plenty of time to complete his tomb, but at age fifty-six, his body was worn out from obesity, a possible diabetic condition, and repeated infections in his leg wound. His will decreed:

. . . and also by these presents, our last Will and Testament, doe will and ordaine, that our bodie be buried and enterred in the quire of our College of Windsor, midway between the stalls, and the high altar; and there be made and set, as soon as convenientlie maie be donne after our descease, by our executors, at our costs and charges (if it be not donne by us in our life time), an honourable tombe for our bones to rest in, which is well onward and almost made therefore already, with a fair grate about it, in which we will alsoe, the bones of our true and loving wife Queen Jane be put alsoe.

After the funeral, Henry's coffin was stored next to Jane Seymour's in the underground vault in St. George's chapel. It was meant to be a temporary burial until the tomb could be completed.

It seems his son, Edward VI, obediently had some work done on the tomb during his short reign, though his Protestant upbringing made him decide against having the masses said for his father's soul.

Young Edward died before much progress could be made on the tomb, and he didn't end up getting a tomb, either. Instead, he was buried beneath the altar of the Lady Chapel built by Henry VII. The grave was unmarked until 1966, when a tiny slab was put in place to mark the spot.

Work on Henry's tomb came a halt during the reign of Mary. Mary decided she didn't want to memorialize the man who had shattered England's relationship with the Catholic church, and the fact England was broke probably had a lot to do with her coming to that particular conclusion.

In 1556, after Elizabeth came to the throne, she had her treasurer draw up a report about what it would take to finish her father's tomb. She had all of the completed materials transported from their workshops to the side chapel known as Wolsey's "tomb house." But she nitpicked on the details and hem-hawed in that "answer-answerless" way of hers and just never quite got around to completing the tomb. She didn't build one for Mary, either - her sister ended up buried with her in Elizabeth's own tomb. (Which ended up being built by James, because Elizabeth didn't want people thinking too much about her death.)

The "tomb house" at Windsor was in a sort of curious limbo. Its upkeep and repairs were not the responsibility of the church to which it was attached, but instead was the responsibility of the crown. After the reign of James II, it fell into a state of neglect.

The vault where Henry and Jane's remains were stored was hastily opened in 1648 to inter the remains of Charles I after his execution. A year later, the Commonwealth government, in need of funds, decided to sell off the brass parts meant for Henry's tomb.

... in the chappel of Windsor Cathedral (sic) to be sold, and if the value exceed not six hundred pounds, then that money to be paid unto the Governor, Colonel Ven; who was so cunning, and had so much kindness afforded him by the Committee, as to have it sold for no more; and so he had that money besides other sums shared by the by, of which the Parliament were deceived. That monument which the Committee call brass defaced, was that curious, costly, elaborate tomb, erected at the immense charge of Cardinal Wolsey, intended for the memory of King Henry the Eighth, and so served the Cardinal’s design also for his own memory, as the redifying of St. Paul’s Church in London continues the monument of Laud, the Archbishop of Canterbury. The other was a piece of rarity, and sold for a song to a Dutchman, that made of it much more for the weight of brass.

A couple of the candlesticks survive in a chapel in Ghent, Belgium. The black marble sarcophagus survived as well, and was eventually used to bury Lord Nelson.

The location of Henry's little vault was forgotten by the time of the reign of Charles II. (Perhaps they didn't look too hard, because it meant that Charles II could keep the money Parliament gave him for the erection of a tomb to commemorate the slain king.) By 1749, the "tomb house" was a ruined mess, with no windows, used for storing building materials.

Even as late as 1810 we find from the Annual Register, under date 26th October (vol. lii, p. 284), that “the building adjoining St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, called Cardinal Wolsey’s Chapel, was sometime since filled with lumber, although it had been understood that His Majesty intended to have a vault made there for the interment of the remains of his family; however, within these few days the lumber has been taken out of it, and the windows put in." In the Gentleman's Magazine for 1811 (p. 651) there is the following entry, "The Mausoleum at Windsor begun by Cardinal Wolsey has lately been finished agreeably to the directions of his present Majesty."

It wasn't until 1813 that Henry's vault was re-discovered. Sir Henry Halford wrote an account of the discovery, which is described as an accident caused by excavating under the "tomb house" in order to prepare a mausoleum there for the current king.

They opened the coffin with the lead plate identifying it as that of Charles I, removed the king's head to confirm it was really him and not an impostor's body as some rumors had it, and took some souvenirs. The people of that age were always delightfully ghoulish. In 1888, the vault was opened again to return the relics and a sketch was made of the interior.

They noted that Henry's coffin had been broken open and peeked inside. Inside was a skeleton, still bearing traces of a beard, which belie the old rumors that Mary had her father exhumed and burned as a heretic during her reign. The outer coffin of wood was badly decayed and all that remained was the lead wrapped around the body.

They thought the damage looked like it had been caused by an explosion from within, which matches up with one of the old stories of Henry's coffin bursting during the funeral rites and fluid leaking out. However, some of the damage could have occurred when Charles' coffin was shoved into the vault. The jumble of rubble behind that looks like wood could be from a stand or bier on which Henry's coffin was placed inside, that collapsed beneath the coffin's weight.

Jane's coffin was ignored and left undisturbed. The prince, who was in attendance, didn't think their mild curiosity was enough to justify disturbing her remains. They also discovered a tiny coffin resting on top of Charles', containing an unnamed infant child of Queen Anne (1665 – 1714).

The "tomb house" was eventually used by Queen Victoria to memorialize her beloved husband, Albert. Other kings and queens were laid to rest around Henry; most kings and queens since George III have been interred there in the Royal Vault, fittingly memorialized.

Henry's grave remained unmarked until 1837, when William IV took pity on the two kings who had no memorial whatsoever and had an inscribed slab installed on the floor to mark the spot.

In the end, Henry's resting place was no more grand than the resting spot of the queen whose memory he had sought to erase. He, too, lies beneath the floor of a chapel with no edifice erected above to memorialize him - only a slab in the pavement that bears his name.


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The Queen is Dead: Katharine of Aragon's Funeral

Katharine of Aragon died January 7, 1536, and was buried twenty-two days later in St. Peterborough Cathedral. It seems like an incredibly long time between death and burial, but it was common for royals in the era. Funerals for the Tudors were elaborate affairs that involved a great deal of preparation.

After Katharine breathed her last, her death was announced, and church bells tolled. Henry VIII celebrated when he was told the woman who had stubbornly insisted she was his wife was dead. He ordered she be buried with the pomp and ceremony due a princess dowager - the title she had as the wife of his dead brother. It wasn't a sign of respect; it was once again to make the point she was never legally his wife.

Katharine's chamberlain wrote to Cromwell, offering an easy solution for the immediate issues.

 "The Groom of the Chandlery [candles] here can cere [embalm] her," but he added that a plumber (leadworker) needed to be sent for quickly to seal her in a coffin, "for that may not tarry."

Ambassador Eustace Chapuys, wrote to the emperor about his suspicions that Katharine had been poisoned.

The good Queen breathed her last at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Eight hours afterwards, by the King's express commands, the inspection of her body was made, without her confessor or physician or any other officer of her household being present, save the fire-lighter in the house, a servant of his, and a companion of the latter, who proceeded at once to open the body.

Neither of them had practised chirurgy, and yet they had often performed the same operation, especially the principal or head of them, who, after making the examination, went to the bishop of Llandaff, the Queen's confessor, and declared to him in great secrecy, and as if his life depended on it, that he had found the Queen's body and the intestines perfectly sound and healthy, as if nothing had happened, with the single exception of the heart, which was completely black, and of a most hideous aspect; after washing it in three different waters, and finding that it did not change colour, he cut it in two, and found that it was the same inside, so much so that after being washed several times it never changed colour.

The man also said that he found inside the heart something black and round, which adhered strongly to the concavities. And moreover, after this spontaneous declaration on the part of the man,my secretary having asked the Queen's physician whether he thought the Queen had died of poison, the latter answered that in his opinion there was no doubt about it, for the bishop [of Llandaff] had been told so under confession, and besides that, had not the secret been revealed, the symptoms, the course, and the fatal end of her illness were a proof of that.

Today, it's believed the black growth they described was a cancerous tumor, but Chapuys was convinced that the queen was killed by poison in some Welsh beer.

Katharine's internal organs were removed to try to stave off decay and were either buried in separate containers with the deceased, or sometimes sent to other locations. The account of Nicholas Sanders states that Princess Mary Tudor ("Bloody" Mary I)

...was opened by her Physicians and Surgeons, who took out her bowels, which were coffined and buried solemnly in the Chapel [of St. James Palace], her Heart being separately enclosed in a coffin covered with purple velvet, bound with silver. 

In this painting, you can see the cerecloth
bundled body within the coffin

Another queen, Eleanor of Castile, ended up in all sorts of places. Her bowels (intestines and stomach) were interred in Lincoln Cathedral, her heart was placed in Blackfriars Monastery, and the rest of her body was interred in Westminster Abbey.

The empty torso cavity was then stuffed with straw and herbs. I've seen mention of wax sometimes being poured into the cavity, but haven't confirmed it. Perfumed salve containing preserving spices and salts were often rubbed onto the body.

The body was then wrapped in cere cloth - waxed linen - and then coated with wax by the chandler. It was then wrapped in sheets of lead, forming a mummy-like bundle. This container was usually then set inside a coffin, but there's at least one known instance (Kateryn Parr) of the bundle being buried by itself in the earth.

Perfumes and spices were often poured into the coffin; the exhumers of royal graves sometimes reported the body lying in unidentifiable fluids. In 1761, an apothecary sent a bill to the palace for the supplies for the funeral of the queen:

… for fine double cere cloth, with a large quantity of very rich perfumed aromatic Powders for embalming her late Majesty's Royal Body, and a very large quantity of sweets to fill the coffin and urn [for the organs] with: a large quantity of Honey-water, and a very large quantity of Lavender-water and also a very large additional quantity of the same fine sweets. Honey and Lavender-waters to new fill the Coffin in the Royal Vault.

The embalming was now compete and the elaborate funeral ceremonies could begin.

Katharine's body could not be left alone. When Jane Seymour died, the king split for Windsor and it was left to her ladies to take watch until the embalmers took over. Princess Mary Tudor was her chief mourner for Jane, and she joined in this solemn task. She had been denied permission to perform these duties for her own mother; one wonders if she mourned Katharine at Jane's ceremonies.

Katharine's short will had made a few bequests to her servants. She had left her gowns to be used to make church vestments, and the fur trim from them to her daughter. She requested to be buried in the Chapel of the Observant Friars. Chapuys went to visit the king to see about her burial and whether the conditions of her will would be met.

On these points Cromwell replied to one of my servants, that as to the burial, it could not be done where she had desired, for there remained no convent of Observants in England; but as to the rest, everything would be done as regards the Princess and the servants as honourably and magnificently as I could demand. Next day I sent my man to the Court to Cromwell, to ascertain the whole will of the King on the subject. [...] At the end he spoke to him more coolly than he had done the day before, adding the condition that the King wished first to see what the robes and furs were like, and that if the Princess wished to have what had been given her she must first show herself obedient to her father, and that I ought to urge her to be so.

[...]

As to the burial, the King said the same as Cromwell, that the bequest of her robes to the Church was superfluous, considering the great abundance of ecclesiastical vestments in England, and that although the Queen's will was not accomplished in this respect, something would be done in the abbey where she should be interred that would be more notable and worthy of her memory; that the abbey intended for her was one of the most honorable in all England. It is 17 miles from where she lived, and is called Pittesbery (Peterborough). As to the servants, it concerned nobody so much as himself to requife their services, as he had appointed them to her service. As to the Princess, it depended only on herself that she should have not merely all that her mother left her, but all that she could ask, provided she would be an obedient daughter.

Henry stated he did not want to do anything more than was "requisite and needful" for the tomb of a princess dowager - the title she had as his brother's widow - and it was probably at his behest that the funeral sermon included the claim that on her deathbed, Katharine had admitted she was never truly Henry's wife.

Katharine's wake was described thus by the French ambassador:

The next day, Friday, 26, was provided, in the chamber of presence, a hearse with twenty-four tapers, garnished with pensils and other decencies. Also, in the same chamber was provided an altar, for mass to be said, richly apparelled with black, garnished with the cross, images, censers, and other ornaments; and daily masses were said by her chaplains. The corpse was reverently conveyed from the place where she died, under a hearse covered with a rich pall of cloth of gold, and a cross set thereupon; lights were burning night and day upon the altar all divine service time. All ladies were in mourning habits, with white kerchiefs over their heads and shoulders, kneeling about the hearse all service time in lamentable wise, at mass forenoon and at dirige after.

Source: Luminarium

An effigy of Katharine was crafted, to lie on top of the coffin. Effigies were statues of the dead person, crafted from wax or wood, made to look as much like the deceased as possible, and were dressed in clothing that had belonged to them. Wax ones were often made from the person's death mask. (After the person died, they would smear plaster over their face and make a cast of it.) Some of these effigies have been preserved; Katharine's was not. Henry VIII's father's and mother's effigies are still in Westminster Abbey. That of his father is startlingly life-like.

Clothing in black was made for all of the participants in the funeral. Banners, palls, and other funerary items had to be crafted, as well. Funerals could be incredibly expensive for this reason. Queen Mary's funeral cost nearly eight thousand pounds - millions of dollars in today's terms.

Katharine's hearse was then drawn to Peterborough Cathedral.
Her funeral procession and service is described in the state papers:

First, 16 priests or clergymen in surplices went on horseback, without saying a word, having a gilded laten cross borne before them; after them several gentlemen, of whom there were only two of the house, et le demeurant estoient tous emprouvez, and after them followed the maître d’hotel and chamberlain, with their rods of office in their hands; and, to keep them in order, went by their sides 9 or 10 heralds, with mourning hoods and wearing their coats of arms; after them followed 50 servants of the aforesaid gentlemen, bearing torches and bâtons allumés, which lasted but a short time, and in the middle of them was drawn a wagon, upon which the body was drawn by six horses all covered with black cloth to the ground.

The said wagon was covered with black velvet, in the midst of which was a great silver cross; and within, as one looked upon the corpse, was stretched a cloth of gold frieze with a cross of crimson velvet, and before and behind the said wagon stood two gentlemen ushers with mourning hoods looking into the wagon, round which the said four banners were carried by four heralds and the standards with the representations by four gentlemen.

This is the funeral of Elizabeth I,
but Katharine's procession and banners
would have been very similar.
The mourners in this image are walking next to
the hearse; the effigy can be seen
lying on top of the coffin.

Then followed seven ladies, as chief mourners, upon hackneys, that of the first being harnessed with black velvet and the others with black cloth. After which ladies followed the wagon of the Queen’s gentlemen; and after them, on hackneys, came nine ladies, wives of knights. Then followed the wagon of the Queen’s chambermaids; then her maids to the number of 36, and in their wake followed certain servants on horseback.

The hearse rested in the cathedral for three days, surrounded by one thousand burning candles, before a final mass was said and the coffin interred in her tomb below the floor. Katharine of Aragon was laid to rest, and her soul was hopefully at peace.

There's an old story that Katharine's faithful friend, Maria de Salinas, was buried in the same tomb as Katharine, and the tomb was opened in 1777 to see if it was true. Only one body lay within. The Victorians - ever constant with their ghoulish curiosity, opened Katharine's tomb again, and found only one occupant.

Try though he might, Henry could never erase Katharine from the hearts and minds of the English people. Even after her death, she was still revered.

One hundred years after she died, Katharine had a miracle attributed to her. In 1640, a man with a tumor growing on his forehead claimed to have dreamt of water dripping on her tomb. When he visited the church and saw water on the slab, he dipped his finger into it and was cured of the growth.

Descriptions of the tomb Henry built for Katharine are somewhat vague, and it seems it was dismantled, piecemeal, over the years. Her hearse seems to have have been left in place as it's described as being destroyed in 1643 during the English civil war because it had an altar in it. During that period, the gilding on the tomb was stolen, and the black marble ended up being used for a floor of one of the dean's summer houses. According to The Cathedral Church of Peterborough A Description Of Its Fabric And A Brief History Of The Episcopal See by W.D. Sweeting,

Queen Katherine of Arragon was buried in the north choir aisle, just outside the most eastern arch, in 1535 [actually 1536]. A hearse was placed near, probably between the two piers. Four years later this is described as "the inclosed place where the Lady Katherine lieth," and there seems to have been a small altar within it. Some banners that adorned it remained in the cathedral till 1586. About the same time some persons were imprisoned for defacing the "monument," and required to "reform the same." The only monument, strictly so called, of which there is any record, was a low table monument, raised on two shallow steps, with simple quatrefoils, carved in squares set diamond-wise. Engravings of this shew it to have been an insignificant and mean erection. A few slabs of it were lately found buried beneath the floor, and they are now placed against the wall of the aisle. One of the prebendaries repaired this monument at his own cost, about 1725, and supplied a tiny brass plate with name and date, part of which remains in the floor. This monument was removed in 1792.

Source: Wikipedia commons

Afterward, Katharine's grave remained mostly unadorned until Katharine Clayton, the wife of one of the cathedral canons, had the idea of making an appeal to English women named Catherine to help her restore Katharine's resting place to something befitting a queen.

An engraved marble slab was installed and a grille with the gilded words KATHARINE QUEEN OF ENGLAND was mounted above. 

Mary of Teck (consort of George V) ordered that the banners of a queen - the arms of England and Spain - be hung above, giving back Katharine's due honors after 400 years.

The memorial plaque installed calls her:

A queen cherished by the English people for her loyalty, piety, courage and compassion.

Today, visitors still leave pomegranates on her tomb, and every year, the cathedral hosts a festival in Katharine of Aragon's honor. There is also a current movement to have Katharine named as a saint in the Catholic Church.

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