Chapter Text
“With these diplomatic concessions accomplished, Mary now set about to prepare for her bridegroom’s arrival and her much-anticipated nuptials. New clothes were ordered for both herself and for Francis, to be worn on his arrival and formal presentation at court and on the wedding day. Tapestries depicting the arms of England, France, and Brittany were also commissioned, as were hangings and other ornaments that would decorate the royal marriage bed. Mary had also personally selected from her own retinue some 300 men who would serve Francis’s household once it is established.
On the French side, the first of the betrothal gifts was sent ahead by Francis — whether it was the son or the father, we cannot say for certain — a gold ring set with a large freshwater pearl and flanked by two diamonds. This jewel Mary gladly received from the French ambassador who was handsomely rewarded for orchestrating the match.
Most royal marriages required the bride leave her home to wed. Not so with this one. As with everything else in the marriage, the roles were reversed, and it was to be Mary who will wait to have her prince delivered to her.
Francis left Paris with great pomp and ceremony on the 10th of September, accompanied by his father as far as the city gates, where their last farewells and stern reminders of duty were bid. A week later, he was met at Calais by the Queen’s illegitimate great-uncle, the Viscount Lisle, Constable of Calais, where they stayed for two days to refresh their stores before finally setting off for Southampton, where his English household had been set up in anticipation.
On the twenty-first of September, the French fleet bearing the Dauphin would meet their English counterpart, sent off to secure the Channel and the safety of the Dauphin. Guns were fired in a military salute by both parties, and as the entourage sailed around the Isle of Wight to drop anchor at the beach of Southampton, saluting gunfires once again rang in the air from the nearby castle.
Safely on English waters, a barge bearing the flower of English nobility set out to meet the French flagship. There, the Lord Montague, another of the Queen’s many Plantagenet relations, presented Francis with the collar and robes of the Order of the Garter. He was then rowed to shore with the same barge, where he was further presented with a magnificent white palfrey by Mary’s Master of the Horse, Sir Anthony Browne. Mounting it, Francis rode off to the nearest church to give thanks for his safe landing, the place hastily outfitted for royal use after its previous treasures were looted by the late king’s surveyors.”
— Rosalind Sharpe, This Fair Marigold: A Comprehensive Analysis of Mary I’s Reign
“Mary, who was staying at nearby Surrey, was unwilling to delay seeing her bridegroom any longer than necessary, and sent a message ahead with the Marquess of Exeter, requesting that Francis meet with her in secret. Francis had scarcely been on English soil for less than forty-eight hours, riding for at least half of that period towards his temporary lodgings, but he immediately heeded the Queen’s summons, only delaying for a fresh change of clothes.
Francis was led by torchlight procession to the bishop’s palace at ten o’clock in the evening after a short supper. There, flanked by six councillors of state and six ladies-in-waiting, awaited Mary by the entranceway, wearing a lush black silk velvet gown, the neckline adorned with small freshwater pearls, over an underskirt of cloth-of-silver. On the ring finger of her left hand, which she held out for Francis to kiss, glittered the pearl and diamond ring he had sent her in advance. After he had kissed her hand with a smile, and she his, they kissed each other on the mouth in the English manner, something that would not have been done had they instead been in France. The couple then crossed the threshold hand-in-hand and walked towards the canopy of estate, where they sat for more than an hour and exchanged pleasantries. When the night grew deeper, Francis finally doffed his cap to the blushing Queen and bid her goodbye, kissing her hand once again before kissing the hands of all of her ladies in turn.
The next day brought about Francis’s formal presentation at court. Francis was ushered into the great hall, where Mary sat on a throne set up on the dais, attended by her courtiers below. Behind her was the royal standard of England, reminding everyone of her role as sovereign ruler. As her betrothed entered, she rose to meet him in the middle of the hall rather than to invite him up to the dais. Had the French not realised it before, the scenario playing out now makes it clear that Francis would be taking a subordinate role in the marriage.”
— Mara Russel, Veritas Temporis Filia: England’s First Queen
“The week of carousing passed, and soon it became time for the marriage ceremony. St. Paul’s Cathedral, where the Queen’s mother had herself been wed thirty-five years past, was suitably decked out for the event, the walls covered with all manners of standards and regalia representative of the bride’s and the groom’s respective realms. A raised platform was set up, such that the masses could witness the display of pomp and power.
Francis arrived with his entourage first, clad in the English fashion that Marie had sent him beforehand, a splendid white satin doublet and house edged with gold thread designed to match the Queen’s own attire. Over these he wore his new collar and ribbon of the Order of the Garter and a mantle sewn out of cloth of gold. There, on the left side of the erected stage, the Dauphin awaited his bride’s entrance into the abbey. More than one French observer commented on his positioning, highlighting the fact that it was the Queen who was to sit on the dominant side, and wondering whether French interests would be taking an inferior position in the affairs, after all.
At last, after making her bridegroom wait for more than an hour, Marie entered through the west door at exactly 11 o’clock in the morning. Carried before her by her uncle was the symbol of her sovereign powers, the Sword of State, and her train was carried by the premier noblewomen of her realm. Glittering in expensive jewels, the Queen chose for her wedding gown a virginal white tissue with wide trumpet sleeves, the foresleeves showing off a rich purple satin lined with seed pearls. Her kirtle was likewise a white satin, which similarly to her groom’s doublet, was embroidered with roses done in gold thread.
Once Marie reached her place at the centre of the stage, the ceremony began, presided by Bishop Gardiner of Winchester. Despite the grumbling of the previous months, none had raised their voice to dissent when the bishop asked whether there were any impediments to the marriage. This done, he then asked who was to give the maiden away. To this replied her councilmen, who all stood at once, saying to a man that they were giving her away ‘in the name of the realm and common weal of England.’ [1] As joyous cheers erupted from the crowd, the marriage proceeded in the same manner a modern reader might be used to, except that in the vows, the phrase ‘obedire et servire’ had been omitted, with Marie only swearing to esteem and honour her new husband.[2] It was she who requested the change herself, so as to remind the naysayers that she would not cede her powers as queen once the marriage was sealed. The ring, a simple circlet whose gold was sourced from the southern French mines, was then laid upon the Bible to be blessed, as the Queen held out her hand and the ring was then slipped onto her finger, neatly stacking upon the diamond ring Francis had gifted her before.
As the bishop proclaimed them man and wife, the couple joined hands to descend from the dais, the Sword of State now being carried in between them to symbolize their now equal positions. As sovereign, however, Marie’s titles still took precedence in the styles that the Garter King of Arms announced:
Francis and Mary, by the grace of God, King and Queen of England, Dauphin and Dauphine of France, Defenders of the Faith, Dukes of Brittany, Lord and Lady of Ireland.”
— Àurea Carcellé, Feme Sole: Les Reines Indomptables du XVIe Siècle
“As the ceremony concluded, Queen and Dauphin proceeded on foot towards the castle for their wedding banquet, shielded from the rays of the sun by the canopy of state. At some point during the journey, Mary beckoned to one of her ladies, whispering something in her ear. Lady Susan White, the lady in question, nodded then broke off from the Queen’s train with a curtsy, rushing towards the opposite direction with more of the Queen’s trainbearers.
While they had indeed arrived at Wolvesey together, by the time the rest of the wedding guests had flooded into the banquet, the Queen was nowhere to be found, and it was Francis who sat alone at the high table bearing the cloth of estate. Predictably, this caused a stir among those present. Was Mary to jilt her new husband, after all?
Then, the marvel occurred. As the doors were thrown open, trumpets blared to announce the Queen’s entrance. Before the eyes of all those who were gathered, Mary walked up to the high table, wearing an heraldic gown that bore only the royal arms of the English monarch instead of being impaled with the arms of her husband as was the custom, smiling proudly as Francis stood to bow and kiss her hand. Mary waved for everyone to sit, stating in a clear voice that carried across the hall: ‘Je suis toujours Angleterre,’ before she herself sat down and ordered the minstrels to play.” [3]
— Nan Tulloch, Queen’s Gambit
1 This actually did happen IOTL, though mostly because Mary did not have any remaining paternal male relatives, rather than a show of power, though to be fair, you could read OTL Mary's actions that way, too. [return to text]
2 This definitely did not. Though Mary IOTL was advised by Gardiner to have Philip wed to her as her subject, she still included "to obey" in her vows, much to the chagrin of the English nobility in attendance. [return to text]
3 I am completely aware that heraldic gowns may not have been an actual garment that existed, but we all know the Tudors and their need to be dramatic all the time always. Especially since this is a younger Mary who was not yet broken down by swearing the Oath. [return to text]