by Karen Harper
One more interesting bit of Tudor trivia about this woman sometimes called Elizabeth the Good: It is said that the queens on decks of playing cards, even modern ones, are modeled after her beautiful face.
Minster Lovell Hall, like most of the important sites used in this book, can be visited today, although the manor is in ruins. It is in a section of the lovely Cotswolds somewhat off the beaten path. The fascinating thing is, as it is described on the Web site of this manor hall (www.historic-uk.com/DestinationsUK/minsterlovell.htm), “It is said that, in the early 18th century [1708], during building work at the Hall, an underground room or vault was discovered. In this room was found a skeleton, sitting upright at a table, surrounded by books, paper and pens.” According to those who discovered the bones, when the air entered this space, the skeleton and papers turned to dust. Was this the eleventh Lord Lovell? Perhaps we will never know, as no underground room has ever been found since then, but Lord Lovell was famous for disappearing, and his body was never found anywhere else.
The Guild of the Holy Name of Jesus was closely associated with the Worshipful Guild of Wax Chandlers and did have a chapel in the crypt of St. Paul’s. Its remains survive under the paving around the apse of the present cathedral. One of the most fascinating, off-the-usual-track places I’ve found in London is the crypt of St. Paul’s, said to be the largest in Europe. It is chockablock with who’s-who memorials, such as Lord Nelson’s, the Duke of Wellington’s, and that of the creator of the current cathedral, Sir Christopher Wren, but also the antique tombs of many other, older unknowns.
I want to thank Dr. Barbara Hanawalt, professor of history at Ohio State University and author of the fascinating book The Wealth of Wives: Women, Law, and Economy in Late Medieval London (New York: Oxford University Press, 2007), for sharing information with me about merchant widows in medieval London. Several historical women in her research inspired Varina’s shop, home, and circumstances. Also of interest were Medieval London Widows, 1300–1500 (ed. Caroline M. Barron and Anne F. Sutton; Hambledon & London, London 1994) and The Gilds [sic] and Companies of London, 4th ed. (by George Unwin; London: Frank Cass & Co., Ltd., 1963).
The best biography I found of Queen Elizabeth was Elizabeth of York, the Mother of Henry VIII, by Nancy Lenz Harvey (New York: MacMillan, 1973.) On pages 190–195 the book contains a very complete account of the queen’s subjects’ mourning her death and of her funeral. The king’s biographer, Bernard André, wrote of the queen: “She manifested…devotion toward God; toward her parents…toward her brothers.…” From such an accolade I have expanded on her guilt and grief over her brothers’ deaths.
Thanks to my wonderful editor, Ellen Edwards, and the great support team at NAL. As ever, I appreciate the advice of agents Meg Ruley and Annelise Robey. Friend and fellow author Kathy Lynn Emerson generously answered questions and shared her knowledge of Tudor-era women. And always, to Don, proofreader and travel companion.
—Karen Harper
Karen Harper is a national bestselling author whose novels, both historical and contemporary, have been published around the world. A former college and high school English instructor, Harper lives in Columbus, Ohio, and Naples, Florida, and frequently travels around the country to promote her books and speak about writing.
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READERS GUIDE
A CONVERSATION WITH KAREN HARPER
Q. Mistress of Mourning is as much a novel of mystery and suspense as it is a novel of history and romance. What inspired you to go in that direction?
A. The subject matter drew me to the suspense and crime solving. In dealing with these first Tudor rulers, King Henry VII and his queen, Elizabeth of York, a writer immediately stumbles over murders that have long been debated. Who killed the boy princes in the Tower of London? (Or who absconded with them—highly unlikely, I think, despite some claims of that.) Did Prince Arthur, Henry VII’s heir apparent and older brother of the boy who later became King Henry VIII, die of natural causes or was he done away with? These mysteries are not only fascinating but they shape England and Europe for many years to come. For example, obviously Henry VIII would never have been king had Arthur lived. No six wives, no next three rulers: Edward, Mary, and Elizabeth. Perhaps no Protestant revolution…on and on.
There is a second key reason I incorporated strong threads of suspense in the novel. That is what I love to write. In a way, all fascinating characters have their secrets, no matter the genre, but I love to read and create whodunits and whydunits. I’ve written a nine-book mystery series in which Queen Elizabeth I (who was named for her grandmother, the Queen Elizabeth of this novel) is the amateur sleuth. I also write contemporary suspense novels, so the bent toward suspense is just the way I write, and I was able to give that free rein in this book.
Q. Varina’s chandlery business provides her with a fascinating background. How did you come to learn about the use of candles and wax effigies during this period?
A. Since I have written other novels set in medieval and Tudor times, I’ve always been aware of chandlery and wax effigies. In one of my visits to Westminster Abbey, I was fascinated by the Undercroft Museum, which displays death masks of British monarchs. These were used in their funerals and paraded through the streets of London. The idea of a woman who deals with death in an artistic way and solves a crime was too good to pass up.
Q. How common was it for a woman to inherit and run her own business in the early Tudor period?
A. My research shows that, sadly, about the only way a woman could have her own business at this time was to inherit it at the death of her father or husband, or possibly her last living brother. There were exceptions in the “broidery” (embroidery) trade, but in general, it was not a period where women held financial power or were admitted to the powerful trade unions. Marriage meant economic and social control by the husband, a fact I tried to bring out in this novel. My Author’s Note mentions an excellent book on this subject, Dr. Barbara Hanawalt’s The Wealth of Wives.
Q. Varina and Queen Elizabeth share a deep sadness over the loss of their young children. Most of us are aware that child mortality remained high until the twentieth century, but just how high was it during Tudor times? How did mothers (and fathers) cope with their grief?
A. Of course, this novel takes place in early Tudor times (the transition from the medieval era), not the high Tudor of the later rulers; however, mortality statistics during these years seem to be consistent. These are sad, indeed, and rather shocking. It is estimated that 25 percent of infants died in their first year; 12.4 percent of those remaining died between ages one and four, and 6 percent more between ages five and nine.
No doubt parents coped with these dreadful losses in every human way possible: resignation, depression, keeping busy, focusing on the next or remaining children. There are records of parents grieving greatly, so Varina and the queen illustrate that. I would surmise that the religious faith of the day also kept some parents strong through such trials, especially the belief that their child was in a better place and they would meet him or her again someday in heaven.
Q. You describe a fairly complicated embalming process for the royal dead. How was the common man treated in death during this time?
A. Commoners were simply wrapped and/or put in a plain wood coffin and “laid to rest,” often in a shared grave. The wealthier the deceased, the higher their social class, the more embalming, altar candles, and formal grieving. And, of course, during plague or disease times, bodies were quickly gathered and dumped in mass graves, as I show in my novel Mistress Shakespeare. I think it’s especially fascinating that those who provided the funeral candles often worked with or as the embalmers.
Q. Nicholas Sutton works for the king and queen in hopes of reclaiming the land and position his family lost during what we now call the War of the Roses. Was royal patronage the only way to gain wealth and prestige during this period? What other avenues might he have pursued?
> A. Royal approval and support was the main and quick path to recoup lost wealth and power under the Tudors. Economic strength was the other major avenue to recovery, but that could take generations. An interesting point here is that the Tudors, since they had gained their throne by “might not right,” always tried to control who had power and who didn’t. They carefully watched and often pulled down those who became too popular or powerful. So it was of key importance in rebuilding one’s reputation to serve the ruler.
Q. Elizabeth of York has been portrayed in several recent novels. What particularly interests you about her?
A. I read an excellent biography of this queen (Elizabeth of York, the Mother of Henry VIII, by Nancy Lenz Harvey), but I have not read any of the novels, as I did not want them to influence my analysis of her character and personality. Above all, she was a strong woman—a survivor, yet she must have suffered greatly from the losses of her brothers and her children. What really interested me is that she is the mother of King Henry VIII, so what of her was in him? He evidently adored her. Those who think Henry saw women either as saints or whores always say that his mother was the ideal image in those opposing views of females.
Also, I was interested in Elizabeth of York’s marriage dynamics. Most records reveal that her husband was cold and calculating; yet these Tudors obviously had a strong marriage, unlike their son Henry. Was her strong marriage possible only because of her good traits? She is a fascinating character, and I hope I have done justice to her. I always find that the bedrock traits of a person lie in his or her childhood, and her closeness to both her parents served her well. She knew she had been loved, so she was able to give love to her husband, her children, and her subjects, who dubbed her “Elizabeth the Good.”
Q. Will we ever know what happened to the princes in the Tower?
A. Never say never, because documents do turn up from time to time, but I think the question was answered when the bones of those two young boys were found. I believe they were smothered in their beds and interred immediately, but on whose orders? Ah, there’s the rub—and this novel’s researched but debatable premise.
Q. Most readers might best know Catherine of Aragon from a later period in her life, when Henry VIII sought to divorce her and marry Anne Boleyn. She is often portrayed during that time as obsessively Catholic and embittered by Henry’s treatment of her, but in Mistress of Mourning she is sweet and brave, and so very young. How did she go from one to the other?
A. Catherine’s life story begins as a fairy tale, crashes into her young widowhood and tough times for a while, then turns to fairy tale again when the young, handsome King Henry VIII weds her. Her failure to produce a male heir is well-known, as are her later trials. But Catherine had a backbone of steel, partly from her strong religious faith, partly from the fact that she had powerful parents, partly just because she was built that way.
The set-in-her-ways, ultrareligious Catherine often portrayed in the Anne Boleyn stories does not do justice to how she was adored by the English people from the first. It does help explain, though, one reason the common people detested Anne Boleyn. They dared not blame Henry for his horrible treatment of Catherine, so Anne was the target. Catherine was a fascinating woman, but she had so many unhappy chapters in her life—which she handled as best she could—that most modern readers fail to understand or admire her. I would contend that, as the quote goes, that which did not kill her made her stronger. The tragedies of her life did not break her, so how did she go from one stage of life to the other? With great bravery, faith, and what modern people would call “class.”
Q. Are you getting tired of the Tudor period yet? Have any other periods captured your writer’s fancy?
A. I will be a Tudor maniac until I die, but I think the “high Tudor period”—Henry VIII and Elizabeth I—has been pretty well covered lately, not only in novels and nonfiction but also in movies and on TV. I was pleased to find these first Tudor rulers a bit fresher ground to research and write. As for other historical periods, my second love is the 1930s and 1940s. I have written one novel set in Britain and Italy in that era already, Almost Forever, and may write more in the future. Time will tell.
READERS GUIDE
READERS GUIDE
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
1. Whom did you find the most interesting character in Mistress of Mourning?
2. Who would ever expect tyrannical Henry VIII to have had such a beautiful, loving mother? Do you know of children who have turned out very differently from their parents, in personality, values, and general attitude toward life? Does a parent really have so little influence over his or her children?
3. If Prince Arthur had lived, how might English history have turned out differently?
4. Viscount Lovell is identified as the villain of the novel early on, and we read to find out whether he can be stopped before implementing his plan to destroy the Tudor succession. What devices does Karen Harper use to create suspense around Lovell?
5. Did you notice that although Queen Elizabeth has power, Varina has the freedom to act? Discuss the pros and cons of being royal versus being a commoner, for both men and women, during this time. Which would you rather be?
6. Do you have any sympathy for Christopher Gage, Varina’s suitor? Is he justified in being angry when Varina finally turns down his marriage proposal?
7. Do you have any sympathy for Viscount Lovell? When does faithfulness to a lost cause become terrorism? What line does he cross?
8. What do you think happens to Nick and Varina after the book ends?
READERS GUIDE
From the national bestselling author of Mistress of Mourning comes
THE
Irish Princess
a grand-scale drama starring a would-be Irish
princess who is forced from her homeland and thrust into King Henry VIII’s treacherous Tudor court.
Available now in paperback and e-book from New American Library.
An excerpt follows….
CHAPTER THE FIRST
WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON
January 25, 1547
I, Gera Fitzgerald, was going to kill the king. He was dying, but I was going to kill him anyway.
In the dim back servants’ hall, I pushed the hidden panel that led to the king’s bedchamber. It seemed I had waited for this chance my entire life. I had been forced to bide my time until the king was alone in the small back rooms so few knew existed.
Henry Tudor, king and tyrant of all England and of my beloved, battered Ireland, was living his last moments on this earth. I pressed the dagger I had secreted in my shawl to be sure it was still there. Yes, its sharp steel, warmed by the heat of my body, waited to strike with all the power and passion that festered within me.
My pulse pounded in my ears as I hesitated but one moment. I could bear up to it if I were caught, I tried to buck myself up. If I must, I could face torture in the Tower and bloody death by beheading like those I had loved. At my trial, I would speak out for my family and my country. The Geraldines had been the salvation of poor Ireland and must be again.
I stepped into the void, black as the pit of hell, for I’d not dared bring a lantern or even a candle. The air was stale, so this entry must not have been recently used. A cobweb wove itself across my sweating face and snagged in my eyelashes. No matter if I kept my eyes open or closed, it was the same deep darkness.
I went slowly, one hand along the wooden wall, one out ahead so I would not bump into the door at the end. A sliver jabbed into my finger, but I ignored it. My hand touched the door.
I froze, straining to hear. Some strange sound came from within, a rhythmic hissing. I pictured a fat, coiled serpent, the king of England I had so long detested and feared. Snoring—that was it. He slept.
I recalled the arrangement of the two rooms I had walked through nearly three years ago, the shadows, the silence. Not silent now. As I pushed the door inward a crack, I saw wan light, though it nearly blinded me at first. I felt
I’d opened a long-sealed tomb: No air stirred and the very smell of death sat heavy here.
I shuffled along, giving my eyes time to adjust, though there was little to bump into but the oaken bed that dwarfed everything. I saw the source of light was a pewter lantern on a small table across the room.
He had gone quiet now. What if he were dead already? It would not be enough if he escaped me after all this time! But no, though the snoring had ceased, a sharp rasping for breath resounded from the big, curtained bed. Had he hidden out here like a wounded animal—or was he ashamed to let others see him as he was? Did he really want to cleanse his soul and risk dying alone? Ah, well, a little voice in my head seemed to say, in the end, cobbler or king, we all must die alone.
Though I knew the king was hard of hearing and the heavy brocade curtains separated us, I tiptoed into the small adjoining room to be certain no servant or guard slept there. No one. Just shadows, like dark ghosts from Henry Tudor’s past and mine, those who had been murdered, those who cried out for justice, even from their graves.
A single fat candle burned on the table here, illumining a short stack of parchment. The candle diffused the sweet scent of expensive ambergris and threw flickering light on the rows of rich parchment-and-leather-scented books shelved on all four walls. Hoping no one would wonder how the obese, crippled king could rise from his bed to lock the door to his more public chambers, I went to it, listened with my ear to the carved and gilded wood, then twisted the key in the lock.
As I passed the table again, I bent to look at the documents lying there. In fine script, the king’s will! I longed to burn it all, at least the parts about the Tudor heirs being bequeathed my Ireland. Somehow I must find a way to restore my brother’s rights and title, for that would benefit our people more than Tudor power. I pushed the papers aside to get to the back of the document. He had signed it already, so its decrees and bequests were final.
