Dr. Buttes urged the responsibility he would incur in attending her, unless she were within reach of her mother’s medical adviser and apothecary, for in the event of her death he might be accused of foul play. Chapuys expressed a hope that some of Mary’s old and loyal servants would be sent to her, to keep her cheerful; but he recommended that her governess should not be changed, for he feared lest some one should give her a slow poison; whereas Anne’s aunt had long been warned that she would be suspected, if anything untoward happened to her charge. There was, she was told, a common belief in London, that she had already attempted to poison the Princess, so that the poor creature was terribly alarmed, and could do nothing but weep and lament whenever Mary was ill. Cromwell agreed that Chapuys’ demands were just, “but matters,” he said, “were rather hard of digestion, and he couldn’t get his master to chew them”.
In spite of all efforts, nothing was done to better Mary’s condition. But her illness abated, and on the 23rd March the ambassador told Cardinal Granvelle, that the Princess was well again, and “better than some would have her. She may be called,” he continued, “the paragon of beauty, goodness and virtue.” But she was constitutionally delicate, and suffered all her life, from a malady aggravated by the grief and sorrow which overwhelmed her in her youth. The violent attack which prostrated her in the beginning of 1535 followed immediately upon the information that had been conveyed to her at Christmas, of the statute lately framed against those who refused to acknowledge the King’s second marriage, and upon the command made directly to her, to renounce her title and her mother’s, and to take the oath of supremacy. A refusal, she was told, rendered her liable to instant imprisonment, and danger of death.
In clinging to mere formulas, Mary was influenced by no pride or obstinacy, for in yielding she would have implicitly repudiated her mother’s marriage, and have admitted a slur on her own birth. While maintaining her title she vindicated both.
Chapuys was now more thoroughly alarmed for Mary’s safety than ever, and the Emperor began to make plans for spiriting his cousin over to Flanders. “As to the possibility of withdrawing the Princess from hence,” the envoy declared, “the thing is so hazardous at present, that I doubt if she would listen to it. For besides that one must put oneself at the mercy of the wind, she is so strictly guarded that I can scarcely communicate to her anything; for apart from her indisposition, I have only suggested to her whether she would not like to be beyond the sea, and she replied that she desired nothing else.”[133] Shortly afterwards he continues: “Whatever pretence the King makes about the Princess’s illness, he has been very cold; in fact, she was taken ill on Friday, and he did not send his physician thither till Thursday after, and I do not know if he would have gone even then if I had not importuned Cromwell. On Friday afterwards she was let blood, and on Monday following, when I spoke to the King, he did not know she had been let blood, or anything about her condition. Since the first news, I have sent to her four or five times, by my servants, who make a poor report of her treatment, and of her company. She sent to me yesterday, two persons, to beg that I would continue to send some of my servants to her, for that caused her to be better respected. Your Majesty may consider what solace and pastime she can have with those about her, hearing them desire her death, by which, they say, the world would be at peace, and they, discharged of the pain and trouble they have had about her. As to getting her away from hence, it could be accomplished by having a pinnace on the river (Mary was then at Greenwich) and two armed ships at the mouth of the river; at least I could find means to get her out of the house almost at any hour of the night.”
On the 5th April he says:—
“The Princess, in order not to be altogether shut up, has remained ten or twelve days at Greenwich, since the little one was removed thence. On the 1st inst., she left for the house of which I wrote formerly. She wished to go on horseback, but as three of my servants were mounted to accompany her, those who had charge of her made her enter the litter, and her gouvernante along with her, and there she remained, till my servants took leave of her, six miles from here. The litter was covered with velvet, and was by far the most honourable she had had since her misfortunes. This favour has been allowed to her this year, besides that the King, her father, has sent her since Christmas, on two occasions, sixty or eighty ducats. Since the little Bastard removed from Greenwich, considering that one of the galleons of La Renterie was on the other side of the river, and that there were some other Spanish ships here, by means of which the Princess might be saved, I sent to her to know if she would agree to it. She gave ready ear to the suggestion, saying she desired nothing else, and has since sent two or three times for my man, to solicit the matter; but her sudden departure broke off the enterprise, to which also, I did not dare commit myself, not having commandment from your Majesty, considering the practices put in train, since it pleased you to charge me to write what means there might be of withdrawing her. Nevertheless, the said Princess continues in her purpose to go away, and has sent to desire me by my servant, who has just come from seeing her, that, for the love of God, I will contrive to remove her from the danger, which is otherwise inevitable, adding that where she is now, there is no means of saving her by night, and that as soon as it was fine weather, she would go out walking, to see what arrangement could be made to come upon her by surprise, in the daytime, and so that it should appear as little as possible that it was by her consent; for the sake of her own honour, and the less to irritate the King, her father. The house where she lies is twelve miles from this river, and if once she could be found alone, it would be easier to save her than it is at Greenwich, for we could put her on board beyond Gravesend, past the danger of this river. The matter is hazardous, and your Majesty will take it into due consideration.”
The same day, he wrote to Granvelle:—
“If I were to tell you the messages she sent me at her leaving Greenwich, and again this morning, you could not refrain from tears, begging me to have pity on her, and advise her as I thought best, and she would obey....
“If the Princess going out to sport were once seized, and put on horseback, and there were ready a great ship or two and a row boat, the thing would be done. Except her guards, and some of the other side, the people would help her, and those sent in pursuit would shut their eyes, and bless those who had carried her off.”[134]