Crown of Blood

by Nicola Tallis

  As the evidence against Seymour mounted, he ‘refused persistently to answer any of these charges in the Tower’, insisting on his right to a public trial.24 This was to be denied him, and having been ‘condemned almost unanimously’ on the ‘evidence produced in proof of thirty-one charges brought against him’, including that ‘he had plotted to kill the Protector’, the date was set for his execution.25 While some of the charges had at least a grain of truth in them, others were undoubtedly imagined. Notably, one of the authentic charges brought against him related directly to Jane: ‘that he had planned to ally the King with the daughter of an English nobleman’, a charge that was clearly considered to be treasonous in the eyes of the King’s Council.26 Nothing could save him, but he continued to plot until the very end. Seymour spent his final evening in the Tower writing secret notes to the Ladies Mary and Elizabeth, in which he urged them to conspire against the Protector. He sewed these into his shoes, and they were only discovered following his death after his servant made the authorities aware of them. On 20 March, the man who had been Jane’s guardian for the past two years was executed on Tower Hill. Though her reaction to his death went unrecorded, it seems likely that Jane, already suffering from the upheaval of the months since the death of Katherine Parr, felt some sadness over the Admiral’s loss. But she was among the minority, for there were many who were relieved at his removal, including Bishop Hugh Latimer, the court preacher, who condemned Seymour as ‘a wicked man, and the realm is well rid of him’.27 Perhaps the biggest loser, however, was the six-month-old daughter that the Admiral left behind. Lady Mary Seymour was now an orphan, and at her father’s request was sent to live in the household of Jane’s step-grandmother, Katherine Willoughby. Jane, who had been with Mary’s mother throughout her pregnancy, and had been close by at her birth, probably never saw the child again.28

  The Admiral’s association with Jane’s family was well known, and could easily have led to their ruin. Miraculously, they survived unscathed, almost certainly due to Henry’s cooperation in providing evidence against his former ally. However, there was also another saving grace – Jane herself. The Admiral was not the only one who was aware that Jane was a great prize in the marital market. He himself had been conscious that there would be many offers for her hand, and had resolved to be the first to exploit this. Shortly before his arrest, the Admiral had confided to his brother-in-law, William Parr, Marquess of Northampton, that ‘there would be much ado for Lady Jane’, and that ‘the protector and [the Duchess of Somerset] would do what they could to obtain her for Lord Hertford’.29 Sure enough, following the Admiral’s execution, a verbal agreement was made between Henry and the Lord Protector, whereby Jane was promised in marriage to the Protector’s eldest son, Edward, Earl of Hertford. For Henry, his concurrence was an effective and convenient means of extricating himself from blame in the Admiral’s affair, but in reality both he and Frances were still intent on Jane’s marriage to the King. They were nothing if not versatile, and were willing to work with anyone in power in order to achieve their ambitions and obtain glory for their daughter. Promises, after all, were easily broken. As it transpired, though, there was no need for them to do anything in order to disentangle themselves.

  CHAPTER 8

  She Did Never Love Her After

  AS THE SCANDAL surrounding the Admiral began to die down, in the weeks following his death life for Jane also started to settle. Her family were beginning to spend an increasing amount of time in London, where Jane’s parents could be close to the court. Since the death of Henry VIII their fortunes had taken a drastic upwards turn, and despite the recent scandal, they continued to enjoy the favour of King Edward. Six months after the Admiral’s execution, on 23 September the King paid the family a visit at Dorset House. A fine meal was prepared consisting of several sumptuous courses, and it would have been customary for Jane’s parents to organize a lavish entertainment to delight their royal visitor. The young King, just a few weeks short of his twelfth birthday, probably also took the opportunity to speak with Jane and her younger sisters, Katherine and Mary. Edward had much in common with Jane, for he too was learned, passionate almost to the point of fanatical when it came to religion, and loved his books. But even against the intellect of the King, Jane stood out as being extraordinary. The martyrologist John Foxe later noted that between ‘this young Damsel and king Edward there was little difference in age, though in learning and knowledge of the tongues she was not only equal, but also superior unto him’.1 Doubtless, as the cousins conversed, Jane’s parents watched closely, eagerly looking for signs of affection between them. Jane must have been aware of her parents’ hopes for her in regards to a marriage with Edward, but it is impossible to speculate as to what her feelings may have been. Similarly, there is no indication of how Edward felt about his cousin in personal terms, or in regards to a possible marriage. There had once been talk of other marriages for the King: first to Mary, Queen of Scots, and later to the French Princess Elisabeth, but both had come to nothing.2

  The Dorsets must have been aware by this time that the power of the Lord Protector was beginning to wane, and that there was great opposition in the Council to his rule. Many of his policies were unpopular, and more importantly, his nephew the King was becoming increasingly alienated from him as a result of the Lord Protector continuing to treat him like a small child despite his growth. The King was kept consistently short of money by his uncle, and the Admiral had once remarked that ‘he was but a very beggarly King now and had nothing for play or to give to his servants’, and had given him money.3 As the King bade farewell to Jane and her family and returned to the Palace of Whitehall, the Dorsets may have been hopeful that they would soon be freed from their promise to the Lord Protector, and that Jane’s marriage to the King could then, at last, become a reality.

  As with his brother before him, the Lord Protector’s time was running out, and his rule of supremacy was about to come to an end. On 6 October, a fortnight after the King’s visit to Dorset House, Edward had retired to bed for the evening at Hampton Court. Shortly afterwards he was disturbed by the Protector, who having heard reports that several of the disgruntled lords were marching to confront him, had decided to remove with Edward to the greater security of Windsor Castle. The King was furious at the disturbance, and complained vehemently: ‘Methinks I am in prison.’4 A few days later, on 11 October, the Protector was toppled by a coup d’état, and he was arrested and sent to the Tower. His career was in shreds, along with any hopes of a marriage he may have envisaged between his son and Jane.

  Once again Jane’s father followed where others led, and lent his wholehearted support to the coup against the Protector. His motivation for doing so was probably not based on any strong feelings of resentment he harboured against the Protector personally, but rather an attempt to ensure that he was on the winning side. It was likely to have been this that led to his appointment in November as a Privy Councillor. After years of political exclusion during the reign of Henry VIII, it appeared that his ambitions were finally beginning to be realized. However, he did not take his new role particularly seriously, and attended Council meetings infrequently – no doubt a sign of his own laziness. It mattered little, for in reality his presence was merely required to weight the Council in favour of another leader.

  With the fall of the Lord Protector, it became clear that a new leader was emerging at court. John Dudley, Earl of Warwick, was the son of Henry VII’s hated advisor Edmund Dudley, who had been executed soon after the accession of Henry VIII. Following the death of his father, in 1512 Sir Edward Guildford, a close friend of the King’s, purchased John’s wardship.5 John had duly been sent to live in his household, where he was betrothed to Sir Edward’s daughter, Jane. The marriage took place in 1525 when John was twenty-one and Jane was sixteen, and was a genuine love match. Under the influence of his father-in-law, John spent much of his time at court, where he rose to prominence under Henry VIII. He gained a reputation as a good s
oldier, and in 1523 was knighted by Jane’s maternal grandfather, the Duke of Suffolk, before being created Viscount Lisle in 1542.6 At the succession of Edward VI, Dudley had supported the Lord Protector, and had been rewarded with the earldom of Warwick. However, he was clearly ambitious, and did not scruple when it came to engineering the fall of his former patron in order to ensure his own elevation.

  WITH THE SUPPORT of Archbishop Cranmer, King Edward had stepped up the intensity of his religious reforms, and while for Jane and her family this was a positive development, for Jane’s cousin the Lady Mary, life was about to become extremely difficult. In January 1549, the Act of Uniformity had been passed in Parliament. The Act established Cranmer’s Book of Common Prayer, written in English, and other evangelical rites as the official form of worship in England. The Act was controversial, not least because clergy who refused to adopt the Book of Common Prayer could be stiffly punished.7 Among those who were utterly appalled by the Act was the Lady Mary, who steadfastly refused to adhere to any religion other than Catholicism. Since the death of her father she had spent much of her time away from court at the various palatial estates left to her by Henry VIII, and here she defiantly ordered the Catholic Mass to be celebrated.8 Her faith was something on which she was not prepared to compromise, but it led to a permanent rift with her half-brother. Edward was incensed by Mary’s headstrong determination to refute his authority, and as his reign progressed made increasing and ever more aggressive efforts to encourage her to conform.9 They were all in vain, and Mary later wrote to her cousin Charles V of her distress that ‘Our kingdom is daily approaching nearer to spiritual and material ruin, and matters grow worse day by day.’10 Mary’s devotion to her faith would also soon lead to a breach between herself and her cousin Jane, for although social etiquette and the physical distance between them had ensured that the topic had been avoided thus far, as the Christmas of 1549 approached, Jane’s views were about to be aired beyond the bounds of protocol to her cousin.

  On the last day of October, the Grey family left Bradgate Park and memories of the recent Seymour scandal behind them, determined to enjoy Christmas as a family. Frances ‘and all her train’, including her three daughters, travelled south to Essex.11 The journey was a long one, over a hundred miles, and took several days to accomplish. The winter weather also slowed their progress, for the roads, little more than dirt tracks, were always worse in winter, causing the hooves of the horses that drew the litter carrying Frances and her daughters to sink in the mud. The family doubtless travelled in style, perhaps in a litter that was similar to that which had been owned by Jane’s maternal grandmother and was ‘covered with cloth of gold embroidered with fleur-de-lys, and carried by two large horses equipped with both saddles and harness, all covered with similar cloth. Inside the litter there are four large cushions covered with cloth of gold, and on the outside this litter is covered with scarlet English cloth.’12

  At long last the family arrived at their destination: Tilty Abbey. The guesthouse of the former medieval abbey had been leased to Jane’s paternal grandmother in 1535 for the use of her son from her first marriage, George Medley.13 George, Jane’s half-uncle, and his wife, Mary, greeted their guests with delight, and Jane and her sisters soon settled into their home for the season amid a host of other family members.14 In addition to George’s five children, Jane’s three young cousins the Willoughbys were also present, and though all younger than Jane, they perhaps provided a welcome change of company from her sisters.15 Thomas, Margaret and Francis Willoughby were the children of Jane’s paternal aunt, Anne, by her husband, Sir Henry Willoughby. Tragically, however, just months earlier Sir Henry had been killed while supporting the King in trying to suppress Kett’s Rebellion in East Anglia, an uprising that broke out in response to rising living costs, particularly land rental prices. His wife having died the previous year, the result was that his three children were made orphans.16 Jane’s father had immediately assumed responsibility for the eldest child Thomas, who was probably slightly younger than Jane’s sister Katherine. For a short time, Thomas had joined Jane and her sisters at Bradgate, before being sent away to continue his education at Cambridge. Margaret and Francis, just five and three years old, had been sent to Tilty Abbey to be cared for by their half-uncle.

  Before long, other members of the family began to descend on Tilty, and three days after Jane’s arrival, her uncles Thomas and John Grey arrived ‘with twenty-one servants from London’, and stayed at Tilty for three days before travelling to London.17 Thomas was unmarried, but it seems probable that John brought his wife, Mary Browne, and his six children to share in the merriment.18 The family was a close one. Jane’s father was fond of his brothers, and Thomas in particular paid regular visits to Bradgate, so Jane would certainly have been extremely familiar with at least one of her uncles. In addition, her uncle John’s daughter, Frances, was of a similar age to Jane, so was perhaps able to provide her with some suitable company.19 On 16 November ‘many honest men of the country’ dined at Tilty; it was not unusual for the house to be busy.20 Amid the reunion, Jane joined her mother and sisters on a short trip to visit the Lady Mary at Beaulieu to the north-east of Chelmsford; the same visit that was later recorded in the pages of John Foxe, and which may have had such a momentous impact on the relationship between Jane and her cousin.

  Mary had chosen to keep Christmas at her Palace of Beaulieu. Given to her by her father, Beaulieu was a large property that had been beautified by Henry VIII, thus earning its name.21 Beaulieu was a favourite of Mary’s, and in previous years she had spent a great deal of time there. At this festive time of year it was normal for Mary to welcome guests; despite the breach with her half-brother, Henry VIII’s daughter Mary was still immensely popular with the English people, many of whom remembered her mother, and she had also managed to retain good relationships with many of those at court.

  The former monastery of Tilty was not far from Beaulieu, and after breakfast on 26 November, ‘my Lady’s Grace [Frances], with Lady Jane, Lady Katherine and Lady Mary repaired to Lady Mary’s Grace’, accompanied by a retinue of servants to attend them.22 Mary may have greeted the visit from her cousin Frances and her daughters with particular enthusiasm, for to her sorrow she saw little of her half-brother King Edward, or her half-sister the Lady Elizabeth, who also maintained a separate household.23

  As Jane and her sisters arrived at the Palace, they rode through the impressive entrance gate that was adorned with the magnificent coat of arms of Henry VIII, and was topped with heraldic stone dragons.24 Having exchanged pleasantries and words of welcome with Mary, their host, they may also have exchanged gifts. Traditionally, New Year was the main giftgiving event of the year, but Mary’s surviving jewel inventories reveal that she had made lavish gifts to Jane’s mother and her aunt, Eleanor Clifford, on several occasions.25 Ever generous, especially to those she loved, Mary had once given Frances a rich gift of ‘a pair of beads of crystal trimmed with gold, with a tassel at the end of goldsmith’s work’, while Jane too had been fortunate enough to receive a gift.26 Mary had given her a beautiful ‘lace for the neck of goldsmith work’ containing thirty-two pearls, an elaborate and dazzling present for a girl of Jane’s youth, and one which she perhaps may not have fully appreciated.27

  It was neither the time nor the place to draw attention to the fact that Jane and her family were on the opposing side of the religious fence to Mary. However, Jane’s dedication to reform was becoming more fervent each day. According to John Foxe, who recorded the story in his Acts and Monuments, she found that during her visit to Beaulieu, an occasion arose when she simply could not let it pass.

  Foxe relates that Jane was enjoying a walk through Beaulieu’s intricate complex with Lady Anne Wharton, one of Mary’s ladies, when their tour took them to the chapel. The chapel was dominated by the beautiful, brightly coloured Flemish stained-glass window commemorating the betrothal of Mary’s parents, a poignant reminder of where she came from.28 As they walked, La
dy Wharton paused to curtsey in obeisance towards the altar, on which was hung a gorgeous statue of the Virgin Mary. Lady Wharton’s actions towards this most venerable of Catholic symbols left Jane utterly perplexed, for her faith placed far less significance on the mother of Christ.29 ‘Why do you do so? Is the Lady Mary in the chapel?’ Jane enquired. ‘No, madam,’ Lady Wharton replied, ‘I make my curtsey to Him that made us all.’ Astounded, Jane rudely cried, ‘Why, how can He be there that made us all, and the baker made Him?’30 Her comments were astonishing, not least for their brashness. She had not yet learned the diplomacy that was so well practised by her parents – the crucial requirement of a courtier and those socializing in great circles. At thirteen, Jane’s devotion to reform was already profound, and would grow ever more zealous as she matured.

  Foxe continues to explain that when the Lady Mary was informed of Jane’s shocking outburst in the chapel, she was gravely insulted. Her feelings towards Jane immediately cooled, and it was claimed that ‘she did never love her after’.31 More than that, that she ‘esteemed her as the rest of that Christian profession’.32 It has been suggested that the story could be apocryphal; it is true that Foxe is the only writer who refers to such a tale, and that he makes no mention of his source. It is also true that Foxe was determined to highlight Jane’s religious enthusiasm. Nevertheless, the story does sound in keeping with what we know of Jane’s character, namely that she was prepared to stand her ground on the subject of her religious beliefs. Although Mary’s reported reaction is almost certainly a gross exaggeration, on balance it does seem likely that the story has some basis in fact.