History often remembers Edward VI as the frail, doomed son of Henry VIII, a boy king whose reign was too short to leave much of a mark. The truth is darker. Far from a weakling, Edward proved nearly as twisted as his rotund father, and his gruesome death at fifteen was likely a blessing for England. Edward’s birth was probably the greatest moment of Henry VIII’s life.
The king had desperately wanted a son for twenty-eight years, through two daughters and three wives. When the boy finally arrived in October 1537, a chronicler described the infant as the most beautiful boy that ever was seen. But the joy did not last. Queen Jane Seymour’s labor had taken a serious toll on her.
Within days she was hanging by a thread, and after just over a week of fighting, she succumbed. Edward never met his mother, and he would need all the motherly guidance he could get. He grew up without a mother, and effectively without a father too. Henry was overjoyed to have a son, but that did not mean he intended to spend time with the boy.
Edward was sent away almost from birth. Aside from one brief visit when he was a year old, Henry barely saw his son for the first several years of his life. That meant Henry was not there when Edward fought for his life at age four, struck down by quartan fever. England held its breath; no one knew how dark Henry would turn if the son he had waited so many years for suddenly died.
But Edward recovered and grew into one of the biggest spoiled brats the world has ever seen. When Edward turned six, his life changed completely. The tutors of the age believed a child became an adult at six, so Edward finally moved in with his father. Their relationship quickly turned strange.
Henry had workers remodel Edward’s rooms to look exactly like his own. He had Edward’s entire wardrobe replaced with smaller versions of his own clothes. He seemed to hope that with the same rooms and the same clothes, Edward would turn out like him. Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened.
Henry made Edward study like any other boy, but in style. Edward’s schoolbooks were covered in gold and set with sapphires, rubies, and diamonds. At lunch he ate with jewel-encrusted cutlery and napkins threaded with pure gold and silver. And like many rich children, he developed disturbing hobbies.
Between intensive studies, fencing, and horseback riding, Edward picked up sorcery. Among his mountains of toys he kept a sinister red box filled with tools of magic. He and his older sister Elizabeth, the future Queen Elizabeth I, shared a strange obsession with astrology and casting spells. Edward adored his eldest sister Mary, once writing to her at age nine, “I love you the most.
” It made sense. Mary was more than two decades older, and with no mother and an absent father, she was the closest thing to a parental figure Edward had. But like his father, Edward’s moods could change quickly, and before long he and Bloody Mary would become bitter enemies. Give Edward credit for one thing: he was the only person on Earth who seemed capable of making Henry VIII act like a decent human being.
Henry had long since disinherited both daughters and divorced and beheaded their mothers. But having a son softened him. In 1543 he invited all three of his children to spend Christmas together. For most families that would seem normal; for the tutors it was unheard of.
That Christmas marked a high point in Henry’s life. Not only was his son everything he dreamed of, but Edward had even helped solve one of Henry’s biggest problems. Henry brokered a deal with Scotland for Edward to marry the seven-month-old Mary, Queen of Scots. With that treaty, Henry set himself up to finally bring Scotland under English rule after centuries of conflict.
Ironically, right around the time the family enjoyed their Christmas dinner, the Scots backed out of the marriage agreement. To say Henry was furious does not quite cover it. He flew into a wild rage and sent Edward’s uncle, Edward Seymour, north to teach the Scots a lesson. His instructions were horrifying.
Henry told Seymour to put all to fire and sword, to burn Edinburgh town and deface it, so there might remain a perpetual memory of the vengeance of God for their falsehood and disloyalty. Seymour did Henry proud and launched a vicious campaign across Scotland. Henry VIII had created his own religion just to get a divorce, and he made sure to brainwash his son about it. By age twelve, Edward was a complete religious fanatic.
He even wrote a treatise declaring that the pope was the very son of the devil, the Antichrist, and an abominable tyrant. Henry VIII died in 1547, and the nine-year-old Edward became king. After the circus of Henry’s reign, the people of England hoped they might finally catch a breath. They were wrong.
Edward’s reign would be just as chaotic, but it would be cut short before he could do too much damage. Even as a boy, Edward had a cruel streak. He was his father’s son after all. By the time he became king he was a full-blown fanatic, spending most of his time rewriting England’s laws to oppress Catholics.
But he could not do everything himself. He had advisers to do most of the ruling, and these men were as power-hungry and heartless as his father had been. One man dominated much of Edward’s reign: his uncle Edward Seymour, the same man Henry sent to ravage Scotland. Ever since his sister Jane married Henry VIII, Seymour had his eyes on power, and now it was within his grasp.
As soon as Henry croaked, Seymour started bribing everyone at court. The scheme worked, and within days he became Lord Protector of England, ruling with an iron fist. One person stood between Edward Seymour and the power he craved: his own brother, Thomas. Edward Seymour paid off the king’s advisers, but Thomas went straight for the king himself.
Thomas whispered in young Edward’s ear, secretly giving him money and claiming his brother sought to make a beggar of him. Poisoning Edward’s mind was only part one of Thomas Seymour’s plan. The next part was even darker. In the chaos after Henry’s death, Thomas plotted to marry Princess Elizabeth, then kidnap Edward and force him to abdicate in her favor, effectively making Thomas Seymour king of England.
The night he tried to make it happen, everything went terribly wrong. Guards caught Thomas Seymour trying to break into the young king’s room. He tried to sneak in unnoticed, but a dog spotted him and started barking. In a move both cruel and idiotic, Seymour silenced the pooch by shooting it.
If the barking had not gotten the guards’ attention, the gunfire definitely did. They seized Seymour and sent him to the Tower of London. Thomas likely hoped his brother would save him. He did not realize just how heartless Edward Seymour was.
Edward Seymour’s heart was made of ice. He did not even flinch when he had his own brother executed for treason, then tightened his grip on the young king. For the next several years, Seymour kept Edward distracted while he ran England into the ground with unchecked power. But he made countless enemies, and it was only a matter of time before someone came for his head.
The longer he held power, the more arrogant and careless he became. In 1549 he slipped. His one-time ally John Dudley convinced Edward that Seymour planned to usurp his power, and that was all it took. Seymour was executed for treason, and Dudley took over as Lord Protector.
Dudley was still a brutal tyrant wielding absolute power in mockery of the actual king. But at least he did not screw up quite as badly or as often as Seymour had. Dudley even managed to find Edward a bride, though that love story was doomed from the start. England and France were constantly fighting, and when Dudley took over, the French proceeded to beat him on the battlefield.
Dudley realized he would quickly bankrupt England if he kept fighting, so he looked for a way out. France forced him to sign one of the most humiliating peace treaties in English history. He had to withdraw his men not just from French territory but from Scotland as well, finally ending the conflict that began when the Scots backed out of Edward’s marriage contract. To make the treaty official, Dudley and the French king agreed to have Edward marry Princess Elizabeth of Valois.
The marriage never came to be. By 1552, chaos ruled the land. England begged for a king to rise and restore order, but Edward could not be that king. In April 1552 he caught the measles.
The disease ravaged his body, and though he recovered after agonizing weeks, the measles had crippled his immune system. When the next sickness came, Edward had nothing left to fight it off. It began with a cough in January 1553, then fever. What seemed like a passing flu grew worse and worse until the boy king was a disturbing sight.
He suffered in excruciating pain for months. By April he appeared to recover; by May his doctors believed he was well. Then, in a matter of days, the cough came back with a vengeance. Between scorching fever and hacking cough, his once-vital body wasted away.
His entire body swelled, and painful ulcers opened across his skin. But though his body failed him, Edward’s mind stayed sharp. Knowing his time was short, he had one thing on his mind: making sure his sisters never saw the throne. In his final agonizing days, Edward did everything in his power to rip his sisters’ birthright away.
Before Henry VIII died, he had declared Mary and Elizabeth next in line after Edward. Now, against his father’s wishes, Edward signed a last-minute proclamation disinheriting both sisters and naming a distant relation, Lady Jane Grey, his rightful successor. John Dudley had turned the ailing king against his own sisters. Lady Jane Grey happened to be Dudley’s own daughter-in-law.
It seemed like a good plan, but it was a dangerous game that would cost him everything. On July 1, 1553, Edward made his final public appearance. Crowds waited by his window to catch a glimpse of their ailing king. When he arrived, the onlookers were horrified.
Edward had completely wasted away. One day in early July, a feeble Edward pulled one of his terrified attendants close and whispered a devastating confession: “I am glad to die. ”
King Edward VI died shortly after. He was just fifteen years old.
Some suspected poison, pointing at Dudley or the Catholics or even Mary. More likely it was tuberculosis or something similar, but no one can say for certain. What mattered was that Edward was gone. Technically, Lady Jane Grey was now queen of England.
But not for long. Mary was Henry’s own daughter, while Jane was his sister’s granddaughter. Mary quickly rallied thousands of supporters, convinced the Privy Council to depose Jane, and declared herself queen. Jane became forever known as the Nine Days Queen.
Mary had her and her husband thrown in the Tower and accused of treason. Jane was beheaded in February 1554. Dudley’s end came even faster. Guards could barely hold back the furious crowd that wanted the blood of the man who tried to steal the throne.
Edward’s death was likely the best thing that could have happened to England. During one fit of rage, according to one contemporary, he ripped a living falcon into four pieces with his bare hands. Imagine what such a person could have done as a full-fledged king. Edward was no tragic innocent figure.
The truth was a whole lot darker.