“You durst not for your ears have avouched that for God’s Word in my father’s days that now do you,” she retorted, “and as for your new books, I thank God I never read any of them; I never did nor ever will do.”
In dismissing him she said, “My lord, for your gentleness to come and see me, I thank you; but for your offering to preach before me I thank you never a whit”.
Before leaving, he drank according to custom a stoup of wine with Mary’s steward, but suddenly felt a qualm of conscience, and exclaimed, “I have done amiss. I have drunk in that place where God’s Word offered hath been refused. I ought, if I had done my duty, to have departed immediately, and to have shaken the dust off my shoes for a testimony against this house.”[284]
Although the Puritans had set the fashion of sober colours and rigid simplicity of dress, which was followed by most people during Edward’s reign, the Princess and her friends continued to assume a considerable amount of state in their retinue and attire. Strype[285] records that on her going to court in 1550, Mary rode through London with fifty knights and gentlemen in velvet coats and chains of gold before her, while following her were fourscore gentlemen and ladies. On her arrival, the Comptroller of the King’s Household received her, and many lords and knights escorted her through the hall to the presence chamber, where she remained two hours “being treated at a goodly banquet”. But when she visited the King at Greenwich in 1552, it was observed that her company was only half the number which a nobleman chose to come with a week afterwards.[286]
Edward had always been a delicate boy, and his weak constitution was still further debilitated in 1552, by a combination of diseases, so that even the most hopeful began to fear the worst. Nothing was however done to alter the succession till the spring of the following year. In May, took place the marriage of Lord Guildford Dudley, fourth son of the Duke of Northumberland, to the Lady Jane Grey, granddaughter of Henry VIII.’s sister Mary, who, first married to the King of France, became afterwards the wife of Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. This marriage of his son to one so nearly related to the royal family was Northumberland’s first step in what Turner calls “that nefarious combination,” by which the Crown was to be alienated from its rightful possessor, and placed on the head of a usurper. The injustice of the proceeding was threefold: 1. Henry VIII. had determined the succession by virtue of a statute of the realm, and it could not legally be set aside. 2. In the event of the failure of both his daughters, the next in succession would have been Mary Stuart, but Northumberland passed her over with the inconsistent pretext, that Henry had excluded the issue of his elder sister, Margaret, from his will. 3. The Lady Frances, daughter of the Duchess of Suffolk, married to Henry, Lord Grey, created Duke of Suffolk, was also set aside, in favour of her eldest daughter, the better to satisfy Northumberland’s ambition by marrying this young lady to his son. On the 25th June Edward was so ill that it was reported he was dead, and one of his physicians told the French ambassador that he could not get beyond the month of August. He died on the 6th July, having been persuaded to exclude both his sisters from the succession, in defiance of his father’s will, and to leave the Crown to the Lady Jane Grey.
FOOTNOTES:
[252] Harl. MS. 5087, art. vi., Brit. Mus. Ellis’s Letters, ii., 134, 1st series.
[253] Letters of the Kings of England, vol. ii., p. 8, edited by J. O. Halliwell.
[254] “And when the Lady Mary his sister (who ever kept her house in very Catholic manner and order) came to visit him, he took special content in her company (I have heard it from an eye witness) he would ask her many questions, promise her secrecy, carrying her that respect and reverence, as if she had been his mother. And she again in her discretion, advised him in some things that concerned himself, and in other things that touched herself; in all shewing great affection and sisterly care of him. The young king would burst forth in tears, grieving matters could not be according to her will and desire. And when the duke his uncle did use her with straitness and want of liberty, he besought her to have patience until he had more years, and then he would remedy all. When she was to take leave, he seemed to part from her with sorrow; he kissed her, he called for some jewel to present her, he complained that they gave him no better to give her. Which noted by his tutors, order was taken that these visits should be very rare, alleging that they made the king sad and melancholy; and consulted to have afflicted her officer and servants; for that contrary to the then made law, she had public Mass in her chapel, if they could draw any consent from the king. But he, upon no reasons, would ever give way to it, and commanded strictly that she might have full liberty of what she would. He sent to her, inquiring if they gave her any trouble or molestation, for if they did, it was against his will, and he would see her contented. But it was not safe, nor did it stand with prudence, as the times went, for the Lady Mary to complain” (The Life of Jane Dormer, Duchess of Feria, pp. 61-62).