by Alison Weir
On the afternoon of the following day, Jane suffered a bad attack of diarrhoea, which left her feeling rather ill, but by the evening she was better. During the night, however, she was sick, and early on Wednesday morning her condition was giving cause for concern. It was obvious that she was suffering from puerperal fever, a common hazard for women in childbed in those days. It is quite likely that Jane had suffered a tear in her perineum during delivery, which had become infected. Very little was known about hygiene in that period, and midwives did not understand the need for clean hands. Moreover, Jane's regime since the birth had been quite irregular, and she had been over-indulged by her attendants who were accused of having given her too rich a diet.
The Queen rapidly became so ill that it was feared she would die; her confessor, the Bishop of Carlisle, was sent for, and he administered the last rites shortly before eight o'clock in the morning, before issuing a bulletin about the Queen's illness. Then, just as the Bishop was about to administer extreme unction, Jane rallied, and on Thursday she was so much restored that the King, who had been very anxious about her, felt able to continue with the celebrations in honour of the Prince's birth. On that day, he created Edward Seymour Earl of Hertford. On Friday, London was still celebrating, and the rest of the kingdom was following suit. The Bishop of Gloucester reported from the West Country that there was 'no less rejoicing in these parts than there was at the birth of John the Baptist'. Later that day, however, the Queen grew feverish again, and the King ordered a solemn intercession of the clergy; this took place in St Paul's, with the Bishop of London officiating.
For three days, she lay in delirium. On Monday night, her condition worsened, and the Bishop of Carlisle wrote to inform Cromwell that she was dying. The King had intended to return to Esher for the start of the hunting season on Tuesday, 23 October, but 'could not find it in his heart' to leave Jane in such a state. On that Tuesday, however, she seemed a little better, although she had been in great danger during the night. Her doctors told the King that, if she survived the next night, they 'were in good hope' that she would live. The Chapel Royal was full that day: 'If good prayers can save her, she is not like to die,' people were saying. 'Never was lady more popular with every man, rich or poor.'
At eight o'clock that evening, Henry was summoned urgently to his wife's bedside; she was failing fast. Norfolk wrote a hurried note to Cromwell, urging him to come to Hampton Court at once 'to comfort our good master, for as for our mistress, there is no likelihood of her life, the more pity, and I fear she shall not be alive at the time ye shall read this'. The King remained at Jane's side throughout the evening and into the night. In the early hours of Wednesday, 24 October, the Bishop of Carlisle was summoned to administer the last rites, and at about two o'clock, Jane slipped quietly from sleep into death.
Henry VIII could not bear anything to do with death. On the following morning his horror of remaining in the same house as Jane's corpse got the better of him, and he fled to Windsor, leaving the Duke of Norfolk to look after the funeral arrangements. Once at Windsor, Henry went into seclusion for a time, refusing at first to see anyone, which was perhaps as well, for his ministers had already begun debating whether or not they should urge him to marry again for the sake of his realm. Surprisingly, when this suggestion was tentatively put to the King a few days later, he agreed that a fourth marriage might be wise, in view of the fact that his sole male heir was just an infant who might at any time succumb to a multitude of childhood ailments. 'He has framed his mind to be indifferent to the thing,' recorded one councillor. Despite his natural grief, as soon as Jane was buried he would be considering possible brides.
Jane was given a magnificent funeral. Her body was embalmed on 25 October, the entrails being removed and buried in the Chapel Royal at Hampton Court. The corpse was then dressed in a robe of gold tissue with the crown on its head and some of the Queen's jewels. It lay in state in the presence chamber for a week from 26 October, surrounded by tapers and with an altar beside it, at which masses were sung night and day for the soul of the departed. The obsequies began when Lancaster Herald charged those gathered to honour Jane's memory. 'Of your charity, pray for the soul of the Queen!' The body was then moved to a catafalque set up in the Chapel Royal, where the Queen's ladies would keep vigil beside it for a further week. The Lady Mary was chief mourner. She and the other ladies wore mourning habits of black with white headdresses to signify that the Queen had died in childbed. Mary paid for thirteen masses to be sung for Jane's soul, and took charge of the late Queen's household, which would shortly be disbanded. It was probably Mary who carried out the King's command that Jane's beautiful diamonds and pearls were given to the wife of Sir Nicholas Carew, as Jane had wished.
Early in November, the Lord Mayor ordered 1,200 masses to be sung in the City 'for the soul of our most gracious Queen', and a solemn service was held in his presence in St Paul's. Alms were also given in the Queen's name to the poor.
On 8 November, Jane's coffin was taken to Windsor, where the King had decided she should be buried. It went in procession on a horse-drawn hearse followed by 200 poor men all wearing Jane's badge and bearing aloft lighted torches. The Lady Mary rode a horse draped in black velvet, and was attended by twenty-nine mourners, one for every year of the late Queen's life. At Colnbrook, Eton and Windsor, the poor men went ahead and lined the streets, while behind them stood the sorrowing crowds, hats in hands, watching silently as the funeral cortege wound its way past them. At the entrance to St George's Chapel, within the precincts of Windsor Castle, the coffin was received by the Dean and College, and was carried inside by six pallbearers. At the high altar, Archbishop Cranmer waited to receive it. The Lady Mary followed the coffin, her train borne by Lady Rochford. After prayers, the body was left to lie in state overnight, while the Lady Mary kept a grief-stricken vigil beside it. The next day, masses and dirges were sung, and the late Queen's ladies laid velvet palls upon the coffin, as was customary. Upon the palls was set a lifelike wooden effigy of the Queen that had been carried in the funeral procession but which has long since disappeared.
On Monday, 12 November, Queen Jane was finally laid to rest with great pomp and ceremonial 'in the presence of many pensive hearts', including those of her brothers, who would from now on enjoy enormous influence as uncles to the Prince. After the coffin had been lowered into a vault in the choir before the high altar the officers of the Queen's household broke their staves of office over it, thus symbolising the termination of their allegiance and service. On that day, the bells in London tolled for six hours, and on 14 November, a requiem mass was held in St Paul's Cathedral, thus bringing to an end the Queen's obsequies.
Etiquette precluded the presence of kings at their wives' funerals. After three weeks spent 'passing his sorrows' at Windsor while the funeral rites took place, Henry moved to Whitehall, where he once more took up the reins of government, but he was in very low spirits. The Bishop of Durham tried to alleviate his sufferings by reminding him that although God had taken from him 'that most blessed and virtuous lady', He had given him 'our most noble Prince, to whom God hath ordained your Majesty to be mother as well as father. God gave to your Grace that noble lady, and God hath taken her away as pleased Him.' Gradually, the King pulled himself together, and before very long his 'tender zeal' towards his subjects overcame his sad disposition, and he 'framed his mind' to a fourth marriage. By 3 November, he was reported to be in good health and 'merry as a widower may be'. He was now beginning to accept the tragedy that had befallen him, and to cope with his loss. He would wear full mourning, in deepest black, in Jane's memory, for three months, and court mourning would last until Easter 1538.
Jane's short, successful career and her tragic end caught the public's imagination, and she was celebrated in popular ballads long after she was dust. She had achieved nearly everything she set out to do: she had given the King the son he so desperately needed, she had helped to restore the Lady Mary to the succession and her father's affec
tions, and she had used her influence to bring about the advancement of her family. She had provided the King with a family life for the first time in years, and had meddled hardly at all in matters of religion or politics. His grief at her death is testimony of his love for her. It was, in every respect, the most successful of his six marriages, and it was the only one to result in a surviving male heir.
In 1543, when Henry was married to Katherine Parr, he commissioned from an unknown artist a painting of himself, his wife, and his three children, which may still be seen at Hampton Court. Henry is shown seated on his throne in one of his palaces, with Mary and Elizabeth standing at either side of him. The six-year-old Edward stands at his father's knee, and sitting beside the King is not Katherine Parr, as might have been expected for she was an admirable stepmother, but Jane Seymour, wearing the gown in which Holbein had portrayed her in his Whitehall fresco. This inclusion of Jane in what was not so much a family group as a brilliant piece of Tudor propaganda is proof that Henry VIII wished to promote her image as oneofthe founding matriarchs of his dynasty. For Jane, this represents a considerable achievement, considering that her career, from her meetings with the King at Wulfhall in the autumnof1535 to her death at the height of her triumph in 1537, had lasted just two short years.
When Henry VIII died, he left instructions that he was to be buried with Jane. His will gave detailed directions for the erection of a joint tomb surmounted by effigies of them both, carved 'as if sweetly sleeping'. But it was never built, and today the vault is marked only by a brass plate in the choir pavement. For a time, there was a Latin inscription to Jane's memory on the brass plate marking the grave, which, roughly translated, read as follows:
Here lieth a Phoenix, by whose death
Another Phoenix life gave breath:
It is to be lamented much
The world at once ne'er knew two such.
In 1813, the tomb of Henry and Jane was opened by order of the Prince Regent. Inside were found two coffins, one very large, of antique form, and another very small, as well as the coffin of Charles I and that of one of Queen Anne's infants. Henry's coffin was opened, revealing a skeleton 6'2" in length, with red hairs still adhering to the skull. The coffin containing the remains of Jane Seymour was left undisturbed.
Part III
How Many
Wives Will
He Have?
13
I like her not!
Had they ventured out of doors on New Year's Day 1540, country folk in Kent would have seen a party of horsemen, muffled to the ears in furs, galloping full tilt along the road that led to Rochester. Few would have guessed that this was the King, accompanied by eight gentlemen of his privy chamber, on his way to greet his new bride.
The visit had not been planned. After two years and two months without a wife, Henry VIII could no longer contain his eagerness to meet the lady in question, and had set out on the spur of the moment the night before, leaving behind the New Year festivities at Whitehall. His intention was to forestall the official ceremony of welcome and to meet his bride in private in order 'to nourish love'. With this in mind, the royal wooer hastened towards his destination, joyful anticipation in his heart.
The Princess whom he was contracted to marry was lodged with her retinue in the Bishop's Palace in Rochester, having disembarked at Deal some six days before. She was now awaiting a summons to London where her official reception was to take place. She was surprised, therefore, when the King was announced, and a party of men clad in coats of moire was ushered into her presence; in fact, she was trembling with nervousness.
Henry VIII had long been impatient for this moment, having a very natural desire to come face to face with the woman whose portrait he had fallen in love with. But when he entered the room where she awaited him with trepidation, he took one look at her, and his face fell.
Negotiations for the marriage had dragged on for more than a year by the time of that ill-fated meeting. Nor was this the first princess upon whom Henry had set his sights since Jane Seymour's death. It has often been said that Henry paid Jane the compliment of remaining a widower for two years, but it must be remembered that he did not do this through choice. With only one son, he still needed to ensure the succession by siring others, and therefore remarriage was of paramount importance. This apart, there were advantages to be gained by an alliance with a foreign power, and this Cromwell was eager to arrange. Henry himself, although approaching forty- seven, was still one of the most eligible men in Europe, even if, in view of what had happened to his first three wives, there were few princesses who could contemplate marrying him without a shudder. He was of course unaware that any lady might have such reservations, yet it does seem that at that time there was a dearth of suitable royal brides on the marriage market, due not only to the reluctance of some of those that were available, but also to religious barriers and to the constant shifting of continental political alliances.
Fortunately, the King's son was thriving in the care of his wet- nurse, Mother Jack, who had suckled him since his birth. By the time he was a month old, he was sucking vigorously, and at this age he was also given his own separate establishment at the old royal manor house at Havering in Essex. Here, rigorous standards of hygiene were still imposed by the King: the rooms were to be swept and cleaned twice a day, and - once the child was weaned - all his food was to be tested for poison. The capable Lady Bryan was once again appointed Lady Governess, and Edward would remain in her care until he was six.
His royal father visited him frequently. In May 1538, when Edward was seven months old, Henry spent a whole day at Havering, playing with the child and making him laugh. He carried the boy around in his arms for a long time, and held him up at the window so that the assembled crowds could see their future King. That summer, Edward was brought to Hampton Court to be with his sisters; Lady Lisle saw him then, and told her husband that he was 'the goodliest babe that ever I set mine even upon. I think I should never weary of looking on him.' The Prince grew fast, and could stand alone before his first birthday, a sturdy little boy with a loving nature and an earnest expression on his face. After his birthday, Mother Jack's services were dispensed with, and in her stead Mrs Sybil Penne was appointed chief nurse under Lady Bryan. The latter was very fond of her charge, and delighted in recounting his progress in her regular reports to Cromwell. One reads:
Would to God the King and your lordship had seen him last night, for his Grace was marvellously pleasant disposed. The minstrels played, and his Grace danced and could not stand him still, and was as fullofpretty toys as ever I saw child in my life.
When Edward was summoned to court to see his father, Lady Bryan made it her business to see he was suitably dressed, and badgered Cromwell constantly for clothing and jewellery for him. Unlike his sister Elizabeth, Edward had few problems with teething, and had four teeth by the time he was one. Before he was eighteen months old, his household had been expanded and the security around him tightened. No effort or expense was spared to protect this 'most precious jewel', and it was generally agreed by all that the sooner Edward was provided with a brother the better.
Mary Tudor, of course, was next in line of succession, despite her illegitimate status. After Queen Jane's death, she returned to Hunsdon, where she settled down to a quiet and peaceful life such as any lady of rank might enjoy in the country. At Easter 1538, she visited the court, wearing white taffeta edged with velvet, for the King had already discarded mourning for Queen Jane, and had given Mary special permission to do so for her visit. Thereafter, Mary was only at court infrequently, there being no lady of sufficient rank to act as her chaperon.
As for Elizabeth, she too went to Hunsdon, where she was looked after by Mary, since Lady Bryan had been transferred to Prince Edward's household. The child was brought to court by her sister for the Easter celebrations in 1538; she was then four and a half, and even Chapuys described her as being 'certainly very pretty'. She was a sharp, precocious little girl, and und
er Mary's tutelage she was rigidly schooled in good behaviour. Taught at an early age to wield a needle, she was able to complete a shirt of cambric as a New Year gift for her brother Edward in 1539. Yet for all her intelligence and ability, she was still excluded from the succession, even though her father had decided to treat her as one of the family.
Henry's obsessive desire to protect his heir made him more than usually sensitive to any hint of treason. As well as crushing opposition to the Acts of Succession, he was particularly concerned about the activitiesofthe Pole family, and at the end of August Cardinal Pole's brother Geoffrey was sent to the Tower for aiding and abetting the exile. Henry had not forgiven or forgotten Pole's shattering diatribe against him, and his hatred of his former protege bordered sometimes upon mania. Because of this, he now viewed every member of the Pole family with suspicion, remembering that Plantagenet blood ran in their veins. Understandably, the Poles reacted with antagonism. In the autumn of 1538, Lord Montagu, Reginald's eldest brother, and the Marquess of Exeter, another Plantagenet descendant, were both executed as a result of their suspected involvement in a plot to kill the King. Exeter's son, young Edward Courtenay, was left in the Tower, where he would remain for another fifteen years. Thus, in one stroke, Henry VIII eliminated most of the remaining members of the House of York.