The imperial ambassador Jehan Scheyfve complained about Mary’s treatment, but to no effect. Warwick insisted it was the King’s will and that Edward’s orders had as much weight as if he were aged forty. It was Parr of Northampton, however, who articulated once again the most aggressive comment against Mary. He challenged the right of the ambassador to refer to her by the title ‘Princess of England’, insisting she be referred to only as the King’s sister. This had obvious implications for Mary’s right to the throne as Edward’s heir: a matter of particular concern that autumn. Edward was looking pale and thin after contracting a mysterious illness in the summer, from which he was still recovering. Suddenly, however, the aggressive attacks on Mary began to recede. She was still not allowed to hear Mass outside her private apartments, but Warwick, ever cautious, had reason to be reluctant to risk provoking her continental cousins, the Hapsburgs, further. The Emperor’s sister, Mary of Hungary, was threatening to invade England to rescue Edward from his ‘pernicious governors’, and Mary’s humiliating treatment was galvanising support for her in England too. Warwick had discovered, furthermore, that Somerset was hoping to take advantage of this and was plotting with the conservatives to bring him down, together with his radical evangelical ‘crew’.
Warwick considered carefully how to manoeuvre Somerset to his destruction. He learned from one of the King’s teenage friends, Lord Strange, that Somerset had asked him to promote his daughter, Lady Jane Seymour, in the King’s affections by telling Edward how suitable a bride she would be. Only nine years old, but highly educated, Lady Jane Seymour, the niece of Henry VIII’s third wife, was already demonstrating a precocious intelligence. With two of her sisters she had celebrated the French peace treaty with the publication in Paris of 130 couplets of Latin verse composed for the tomb of the Queen of Navarre, who had died in 1549. She would one day become Katherine Grey’s closest friend. But in 1551 Somerset’s ambitions for his daughter threatened Dorset’s hopes for his own. None of this constituted treason, however, so Warwick needed to catch Somerset in some other, capital, offence. The answer, shortly arrived at, was to accuse him of planning to invite Warwick and Northampton to a feast and there ‘cut off their heads’.9
Edward was told about the alleged murder plot during the second week of October. Simultaneously Warwick and his allies were empowered with promotions: Dorset became the Duke of Suffolk, the title having fallen into abeyance with the tragic deaths of the Brandon brothers; Warwick was made Duke of Northumberland.10 Northampton’s brother-in-law, Sir William Herbert, became Earl of Pembroke, while William Cecil was knighted. Five days later, Edward saw his uncle, Somerset, arrive at court at Whitehall ‘later than he was wont and by himself’. His journal recorded baldly that: ‘After dinner he was apprehended.’ Quickly and without fuss Somerset’s allies were rounded up: ‘Sir Thomas Palmer was taken on the Terrace, walking there. Hammond passing the Vice-Chamberlain’s door was called in by John Piers to make a match at shooting and so taken. Likewise John Seymour and Davey Seymour were taken too.’ Their ruin had arrived during the banal routines of an ordinary day: with an invitation to a shooting match, a hand on their shoulder as they passed a door, or an encounter during an evening stroll.
It was Harry Suffolk - as the King now called Dorset - who signed the order for Somerset to be sent to the Tower: a neat revenge for the Protector’s rival ambitions for the marriage of his daughter. The Duchess of Somerset joined her husband in the Tower the next day. She was blamed widely for all his troubles. Proud and beautiful, Anne Somerset had never been popular, and damning her served a useful purpose. It helped explain how the man who had helped introduce evangelical religion to England had fallen into wickedness: even the first man, Adam, was brought to sin by Eve, it would have been remembered. The first sign of Mary’s rehabilitation at court since she was deprived of her Mass was an invitation in November for the reception of Mary of Guise, the dowager Queen of Scots. She turned it down. It was, instead, Frances who sat on the Queen’s left on 4th November 1551, while Edward sat to her right under a shared cloth of state. Jane was also there, as Edward noted in his journal. Beside the funeral of Catherine Parr, it is the first time we know of Jane being present at a public reception.
Jane had ridden with over a hundred other ladies and gentlemen, to escort the dowager Queen of Scots through London to Westminster. In the great banquet that followed she sat with the other court ladies in the Queen dowager’s great chamber, enjoying three courses of delicacies. The court women were all dressed ‘like peacocks’ in jewels and rich clothes, their hair loose as a compliment to the Scots style. There was no sign of the Princess Elizabeth, any more than of her half-sister Mary, but Elizabeth had met the Queen dowager earlier in the week and had left a memorable impression. While most guests had their long hair ‘flounced and curled and double curled’ on to silk-clad shoulders, Elizabeth had ‘altered nothing, but to the shame of them all kept her old maidenly shamefastness’.11 Elizabeth had a natural gift for visual messages, and this one was designed to appeal to her brother.
The King’s tutor in political affairs, William Thomas, had presented his master recently with a work promoting modest and Godly dress in women. Elizabeth, whose reputation had been so tainted by her association with Sudeley, had cleverly stolen a march on Jane as the leading evangelical princess. But Jane’s father, together with her tutor Aylmer, were equally determined that the younger girl learn quickly from Elizabeth’s example. Just before Christmas a series of letters went out from the Grey family’s magnificent new home at Suffolk Place in Southwark, which Frances had inherited from the Brandon brothers. They were directed to the pastor of the Zurich Church, Bullinger. Jane’s father begged Bullinger to continue guiding his daughter in modesty and decorum, writing to her ‘as frequently as possible’.12 Aylmer then wrote asking specifically that Bullinger should ‘instruct my pupil, in your next letter, as to what embellishment and adornment of person is becoming in a young woman professing Godliness’. He noted that despite Elizabeth’s example, and preachers declaring against fashionable finery, at court ‘no one is induced…to lay aside, much less look down upon, gold, jewels and the braiding of hair’. If Bullinger addressed the subject to Jane directly, however, he believed ‘there will probably, through your influence, be some accession to the ranks of virtue’.*
Aylmer need not have been so anxious about Jane. The enormous effort that had gone into her education had shaped by now a most determined evangelical, and she was not short of reminders of the futility of vanity. On every barge trip to Whitehall, Jane passed Seymour Place where Catherine Parr had lain with her ambitious husband. Next to it was Somerset House, the Renaissance palace that the former Protector had been building, and would never live to see completed. In December, Somerset was tried and condemned to death on the basis of the trumped-up murder plot, with the new Dukes of Suffolk and Northumberland - Grey and Dudley - his judges. Many evangelicals were horrified that the man who had introduced ‘true religion’ into England should die convicted of attempted murder. Harry Suffolk assured the German John of