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In November 1537, Cromwell began searching for a foreign bride for the King, having persuaded a grieving Henry to “frame his mind” to a fourth marriage. Given that the hazards of infancy could carry off the Prince at any time, it was prudent to safeguard the succession by remarrying and providing other sons.
Since his birth, Edward had remained at court in the care of his dry nurse, Sybil Penn, and a wet-nurse, Mother Jack. In March 1538, the King established a household for his son at Hampton Court, which cost £6,500 (nearly £2 million) to administer in the first year. Suffolk’s cousin, Sir William Sidney, brother-in-law of Sybil Penn and a member of the Privy Chamber, was appointed Chamberlain to the Prince. The redoubtable Lady Margaret Bryan transferred from the Lady Elizabeth’s household to act as Lady Mistress; she was replaced by Katherine Champernowne,1 who took charge of Elizabeth’s elementary education. Lady Bryan was now responsible for the “nurture and education”2 of the Prince. She was assisted by Sybil Penn, who remained on the staff after the wet-nurse’s services were dispensed with in October 1538. Dr. Butts was Edward’s physician. In 1539, Dr. Richard Coxe, a renowned Cambridge scholar, was appointed his Almoner.
The apartments created for Prince Edward at Hampton Court were in the north range of Chapel Court and were linked by a gallery to the now-deserted Queen’s apartments; they had a similar layout to those of the King. In the presence chamber was the magnificent cradle of estate in which the heir to England was shown off to privileged visitors, who approached via a processional stair and a heavily guarded watching chamber. The privy chamber served as a day nursery. In the bedchamber, or “rocking chamber,” was the cradle in which the Prince actually slept, protected from the sun by a canopy, 3 while next door was a bathroom, and a garderobe which may still be seen. The Prince had his own privy kitchen, where his food was prepared. 4
Henry’s increasing paranoia is evident in the strict ordinances he imposed on the Prince’s household, which were designed to eliminate all risks to his son’s health and safety. It was not only the myriad illnesses to which Tudor babies were prone to succumb that Henry feared, but also poison or the assassin’s dagger. Even dukes had to obtain a written authority from the King before approaching the Prince’s cradle. No member of his household was to speak with persons suspected of having been in contact with the plague, nor were they permitted to visit London without permission during the summer months, for fear they might themselves act as carriers. Any servant who did fall ill was to leave the household at once. The Prince’s Chamberlain was to supervise the robing of his charge, his daily bath, the preparation of his food, and the washing of his clothes. All Edward’s food was tasted for poison. The walls and floors of the rooms, galleries, passages, and courtyards in and around the Prince’s apartments had to be swept and scrubbed with soap thrice daily. Members of his household were to observe stringent standards of personal hygiene, everything that might be handled by the baby had to be washed before he came into contact with it, and no food or dirty utensils were to be left lying around. There were no pages in Edward’s household because the King held that boys were careless and clumsy; dogs and beggars were also rigorously excluded.5
Henry would have preferred to have his precious son under his eye at court, but the crowded court was an often unsanitary place where infection might breed, and it was felt that the purer country air would be a far healthier environment. The Prince’s establishment was therefore moved from Hampton Court to Havering in November 1538, and thence to Hundson the following year. While he was there, the Privy Council were invited to inspect his progress; Lord Audley declared he had never seen so goodly a child for his age, “for he shooteth out in length and waxeth firm and stiff, and can steadfastly stand.”6 Later, Edward settled for a time at Ashridge, near Berkhamsted. The King also created lodgings for him next to his own at Greenwich, and at Enfield, Tittenhanger, and Hatfield.7No accommodation was prepared for him at Whitehall, probably because St. James’s Palace had been designated his London residence; parts of it were still referred to as “the Prince’s lodging” in Elizabethan times.8
The King doted on his son, and visited him whenever he could. In May 1538, Edward was brought to him at the hunting lodge at Royston. Henry played with him and cuddled him “in his arms a long space,” then held him up at a window so that the crowds outside could see him.9 A delightful cameo of the King and the infant Prince survives as testimony to Henry’s joy in his son.10 Lady Bryan sent regular reports on Edward’s progress to Cromwell. Chapuys thought the Prince “one of the prettiest children that could be seen anywhere.”11 He was strong, healthy, adventurous, and given to normal temper tantrums. There was nothing to suggest that this precious child would not live beyond his sixteenth year.
Although the court was in mourning over the Christmas of 1537, which was spent quietly at Greenwich,12 an account survives of the gift-giving ceremony on New Year’s Day. When John Husee presented himself in the presence chamber to deliver Lord Lisle’s offerings, he found the King leaning against a cupboard as the courtiers came forward in turn to give their presents to him. Beside Henry stood Cromwell and Hertford, and behind were two Gentlemen of the Privy Chamber, Sir William Kingston and Sir John Russell. At the other end of the cupboard stood Bryan Tuke, Henry’s Secretary, recording the gifts on a scroll.
When he saw Husee, Cromwell beamed. “Here cometh my Lord Lisle’s man,” he said. Husee did not catch Henry’s reply, but the King looked pleased, smiled warmly as the gift was presented, and seemed to take longer than usual to express his thanks, inquiring about the health and activities of Lord and Lady Lisle. All the King’s gifts were displayed on trestle tables; they included a clock fashioned like a book (from Suffolk), pictures, velvet purses full of coins, carpets, coffers, dog collars, embroidered shirts, hawks’ hoods, a gold trencher, six cheeses from Suffolk, and even a marmoset. 13
Henry had sometimes made use of the stately episcopal palace at Hatfield, Hertfordshire, and in 1538 it finally came into his possession. Built of red brick around a large courtyard by John Morton, Bishop of Ely (and future Archbishop of Canterbury) in the 1480s, it was essentially a mediaeval house with towers, buttresses, gables, and twisted chimneys. In 1538, the King visited Hatfield to escape the plague in London, nervously complaining to Sir Nicholas Carew, his Master of Horse, that his head hurt. However, the country air had a beneficial effect, and he was soon in a merry mood. 14 Henry kept Hatfield in good repair, using it chiefly as a nursery palace for his children, and it will be forever associated with his daughter Elizabeth, who in 1558 received the news of her accession in the park. 15
The King acquired two other houses at this time: Henham Hall, a newly built courtyard house in Suffolk, which came to him through an exchange with the Duke of Suffolk;16 and a former Austin friary at Newcastle that came to be known as the King’s Manor, which Henry never visited but retained for the use of the Council of the North.17
Henry was about to embark on the most innovative and adventurous building project of his reign: a purpose-built palace incorporating the very latest trends in architectural design, which would rival Francis I’s great palace of Chambord on the Loire. Plans were drawn up for such a house to be built at Waltham-in-the-Forest,18 but were soon abandoned. Instead, the King acquired the village and church of Cuddington, near Ewell, Surrey, and razed them to the ground. In their place arose the most amazing palace ever to be constructed in England. Because no one had yet seen anything like it, it was called Nonsuch.
Nonsuch was essentially a small hunting lodge and private pleasure house, built around two courts. It was designed by James Nedcham, Surveyor of the King’s Works. Some of the building materials came from the suppressed Merton Priory. The outer court was constructed in the conventional Tudor style, with turrets and battlements, but the inner court was flanked by two large, octagonal, pinnacled towers; they, and the outer walls of the court, were decorated with gilded plasterwork panels carved with elaborate Renaissance reliefs. Figures of Roman emperors adorned the gateway that led from the outer court to the inner, while a massive statue of the King enthroned dominated the inner court, where the royal apartments were situated. The lower walls of this courtyard were of stone, but the upper sections were of plaster and covered with “a variety of pictures and other antique forms of excellent workmanship” in mezzo-relievo stucco bordered by guilloche carving in slate, mounted on timber battens.19 They illustrated heroic tales from history and mythology, and were chosen to reflect the noble virtues of the King. The artists responsible were Nicholas Bellin of Modena, William Cure of Amsterdam, and Giles Goring.
We know relatively little about the interior of the palace. Much of it was decorated by Nicholas Bellin, who had worked with Francesco Primaticcio at Fontainebleau before entering Henry’s service in 1537, at a salary of £20 (£6,000) plus 20s (£300) for clothing. There was no great hall, just a dining hall large enough to seat the King’s riding household, and the usual ranges of first-floor inward and outward chambers, each with twelve rooms. The royal lodgings were accessed by “generous winding steps, magnificently built.”20 French Renaissance influence seems to have predominated; Bellin built huge stucco chimneypieces, like those that dominated the chambers of Francis I. In the privy chamber, there was a fountain in the form of a silver serpent caught in the paws of a lion.
Other artists known to have worked at Nonsuch were the Florentine Bartholemew Penni, a portrait painter who had also produced narrative paintings for the King, and Antonio Toto, who had executed frescoes at Hampton Court. Toto is believed to have painted the wooden and canvas wall panels now at Loseley House near Guildford, which may have come from Nonsuch. They bear grotesque motifs, trompe l’oeil designs, mythological figures, classical urns, putti, the King’s portcullis badge and motto, the Prince of Wales’s feathers, and the cipher and badge—a maiden issuing from a Tudor rose—of Katherine Parr, which dates them to 1543 at the earliest. Also at Loseley is a marble table carved with a Tudor rose and a Scottish thistle, thought to have been made for Henry VIII at the time he was hoping to marry Prince Edward to the young Mary, Queen of Scots, and to have come from Nonsuch. Portraits of Henry, Katherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn, and Mary I, said to have been found in the cellars of the old palace, now hang in Nonsuch Mansion, a Georgian house in Nonsuch Park, which also boasts another relic of the palace, a stone plaque dated 1543, which adorns its porch wall. A fragment of glass bearing the arms of Henry VIII and Jane Seymour, probably from Nonsuch, is now in the Victoria and Albert Museum.
The palace stood in a two-thousand-acre park stocked with a thousand deer. To the southwest was a two-storey timber banqueting house, which had a viewing platform on the roof from which the King could watch hunts in the park. A little way off there was another, smaller banqueting house. The gardens of Nonsuch, laid out by French experts, became famous for their groves, fountains, rockeries, stone carvings, marble pillars, aviaries, trellised walks, orchards, and vines, and there was a maze in the privy garden.21
Work on Nonsuch began in April 1538, with 520 labourers and craftsmen working round the clock and camping out in tents, but their task was complicated and demanding. The inner court was virtually complete by 1541, but the outer court was still unfinished at the time of Henry’s death. By then, he had outlaid £24,536 (about £7.5 million) on the project.22
Not for nothing was Nonsuch called “the very pearl of the realm.” One Jacobean observer wrote: “Here, Henry VIII, in his magnificence, erected a structure so beautiful, so elegant and so splendid that, in whatever direction the admirer of florid architecture turns his eyes, he will say that it easily bears off the prize. So great is the emulation of ancient Roman art, such are its paintings, its gilding and its decoration, that you would say that it is the sky spangled with stars.”23