A Thought for Edward VI on a Difficult Day for Him

by Janet Wertman

Despite his enormous promise, Edward VI was a tragic figure, on so many levels.

The first level involves the wrongs his father did to get him. Henry VIII firmly believed he needed a male heir. When his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, proved unable to fulfill this obligation after twenty years of marriage, Henry abandoned her. That the Pope disagreed didn’t matter – Henry abandoned the Catholic Church as well, founding the Church of England to seal his right to remarry. Then when Henry’s second wife, Anne Boleyn, birthed only a daughter and experienced several miscarriages, Henry had her executed on trumped up charges to pave the way for the third wife who would finally give him the son he craved. Jane Seymour, Edward’s mother, is often said to have “walked through Anne’s blood” for her title. In Jane’s defense, we must remember that she paid for the privilege with her life.

The second level involves the circumstances of Edward’s youth. His mother died in childbirth, and his first two stepmothers were little involved in his life. Edward got lucky with his third stepmother, Katherine Parr, who finally gave the five-year old prince a real experience of family life. Life further opened up to him as other children were brought into his household to share his life and his education.

Barnaby Fitzpatrick, the son of an Irish peer, became his whipping boy (since Edward’s teachers could not in good conscience administer corrective beatings to “this whole realm’s most precious jewel”). Still, the fear that surrounded the young prince must have been oppressive: Henry was terrified that something would happen to his only son. Very few people were allowed to visit Edward’s household out of fear of the plague. All of his food was tasted. Every servant was schooled in the rigorous standards of security and cleanliness that Henry imposed. Such constant caution would inevitably be deeply internalized.

Even when Edward acceded to the throne, things did not improve by much. He was so young, only nine years old. This is wonderfully captured in many of the unintentionally poignant entries in his Chronicle (which was, in the words of Wilbur Kitchener Jordan, “in part private diary, in part an educational exercise, and in part considered notes on policy and administration”), like the one he wrote about his coronation, in which he proudly described how he had dined with his crown on his head. Yet the real power belonged to his uncle, Edward Seymour Duke of Somerset, who was named Lord Protector to rule while Edward was still a minor. Importantly, this went against Henry VIII’s wishes – Henry hadn’t wanted anyone to be in a position to divert power from his son: he had envisioned a “Regency Council” that would rule collectively. Nevertheless, Somerset was able to quickly seize control thanks in large part to a last-minute “unfulfilled gifts clause” added to Henry’s will under the dry seal that allowed the executors to distribute lavish gifts to their friends.

Unfortunately, Somerset was not as respectful of his young nephew as he should have been. Somerset was proud and self-interested and kept the young King dependent on him for as much as he could. This encouraged Somerset’s younger brother, Thomas Seymour, to hatch a scheme to replace Somerset as proxy ruler. In the middle of the night on December 16, 1549, Seymour tried to break into the sleeping King’s apartments at Hampton Court Palace. He made it into the privy garden (he had keys), but one of the King’s pet spaniels started barking. Seymour shot and killed it, which brought guards running. There was no defense for being outside the King’s bedroom in the middle of the night with keys and arms – and using them both. It was alleged that Seymour’s plan was to kidnap the King, perhaps force him to marry Lady Jane Grey (Seymour’s ward); this was treason enough. It was suspected that he might himself marry the King’s sister Elizabeth then kill the King and seize the throne. There could be no mercy. Thomas Seymour’s was the first death warrant that Edward VI had to sign, and today is the anniversary of Seymour’s execution (a topic I have covered in a companion post on my own blog, I hope you’ll visit!).

And as if sentencing one uncle to death wasn’t bad enough, less than two years later the not-even-fifteen-year-old King had to do it again. John Dudley, Earl of Warwick, engineered a coup d’etat against Somerset. The charges were less clear than the ones against Thomas Seymour, but no less deadly. Edward himself summarized them in his Chronicle as "ambition, vainglory, entering into rash wars in mine youth, negligent looking on Newhaven, enriching himself of my treasure, following his own opinion, and doing all by his own authority, etc." Although Somerset survived this plot, he tried to fight back against Warwick (who had by then become the Duke of Northumberland) – and lost. That was fatal. To use Edward VI’s own words again, on January 22, 1552 "the duke of Somerset had his head cut off upon Tower Hill between eight and nine o'clock in the morning".

The next year was a good one for Edward VI – Northumberland made every effort to incorporate him into the running of the government. But then the young King fell ill from what is now believed to have been tuberculosis. As death approached, the fervent Protestant grew terrified at the idea that his staunchly Catholic sister Mary would inherit his throne. He created his own Devise for the Succession which bypassed both his sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, and settled the crown on his cousin, Lady Jane Grey. It is not clear whose idea this was, but we do know that Northumberland stood to benefit greatly from this arrangement: Lady Jane Grey was married to his son. Regardless, the Devise failed when England rallied behind Mary as the next rightful heir (in case you were wondering, Northumberland was the first person executed during Mary’s reign).

Tragic all around.

***

SOURCES:

The Chronicle of Edward VI

Wilbur Kitchener Jordan, England’s Boy King: The Diary of Edward VI (1966)

Wikipedia, Luminarium

This Editor's Choice was originally published on March 19, 2015.
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Janet Wertman is a freelance grant writer by day and a writer of historical fiction by night. Books 1 & 2 of the Seymour Saga will be joined in 2020 by The Boy King, which will cover the reign of Jane’s son, Edward VI.

Janet regularly blogs about the Tudors and what it’s like to write about them. Connect with Janet:  Website: https://www.janetwertman.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janetwertmanauthor/

The Tombs of Henry VIII's Queens: Part One

by Linda Fetterly Root

Katharine[i] of Aragon (1485-1536):

On the morning of her death, Henry VIII’s discarded wife dictated two letters, one to her kinsman The Holy Roman Emperor, and the other, to the husband who had put her aside. It is not the scornful lament to which she was entitled and which the king deserved. In it, she wishes him well and requests Henry to extend benevolence toward their daughter and generosity to her servants. But it ends as the last letter written by a lover: 'Lastly, I make this vow. That mine eyes desire you above all things.’

When the king heard of her death, he donned clothes of celebratory yellow and frolicked the night away. He was not dancing with his wife, Queen Anne, for whom he had all but moved mountains to marry. He had already tired of her.

And thus, the daughter of the legendary lovers Ferdinand and Isabella was taken to the nearby Abbey of Peterborough and interred in the choir aisle to the north of the altar, with no more pomp than due a Dowager Princess of Wales, the title to which she had been demoted. She was put to rest as Arthur’s wife, not Henry’s. Katharine died on January 2, 1536, and was buried 22 days later. A mere three months after that, on May 2, Queen Anne Boleyn was arrested, and 17 days later, she was dead. Four months and a week after Katharine's death, Lady Jane Seymour was Queen of England.[ii]

In his excellent biography Catherine of Aragon, written in 1941, Garrett Mattingly remarked that few of the hopes the Queen still held when she died had been realized.[iii] However, her burial site at Peterborough may well have been an incidental beneficiary of her death. During the Dissolution of the Monasteries, achieved by a legislative scheme orchestrated by Henry VIII between 1536 and 1541, Peterborough Abbey Church was confiscated but spared. By royal edict, Henry granted Letters Patent to Peterborough making it a Cathedral and named the former abbot as its bishop.[iv] Thus, Peterborough was appropriately Anglicanized. Some historians think it was spared because it housed the remains of a royal who had once been considered Queen of England. It is just as likely that Henry saw it as a potential source of revenue for the Crown.

The site of Katherine’s burial did not fare well. It was desecrated in 1586 and the culprits caught. During the Civil War, Oliver Cromwell’s troops ravaged both the Cathedral and the town. Their onslaught is described in the Royalist newsbook Mercurius Aulicus as worse than what would have been expected of either the Goths or the Turks.[v]

In 1895, the dignity of Queen Katharine’s burial site was restored, when the wife of one of Peterborough’s canons, Catharine Clayton, solicited funds from women named Catherine, no matter where they lived or how they spelled the name. Then, Mary Teck, King George V’s consort, grandmother of Her Royal Highness Elizabeth II, joined in the cause, and Katharine's place of interment became clearly marked as the tomb of a Queen of England. Her successor did not fare as well.

Wikimedia Commons, Creative Commons.

Anne Boleyn (c. 1501- May 19, 1536):

Wikimedia Commons, courtesy of Chris Nyborg

Many historians attribute Catherine of Aragon as having captured the hearts and minds of the English people. Albeit unjustly, not even her successor’s apologists extend the honor to her predecessor. There are as many accounts of Anne’s demise as there are screenwriters and historical novelists, and many versions propounded by historians are scarcely more than musings. One thing is certain: the queen was executed for treason within the grounds of the Tower of London on May 19, 1536. Her remains were disposed of according to the custom of the time. As an aristocrat, she was buried beneath the floor within the confines of the Royal Chapel of Saint Peter ad Vincula. Much haste accompanied her beheading, and no one had thought to order a coffin. Apparently, her remains were carried from the place of her beheading to her place of burial by her ladies and placed into a wooden box.

At the time, notes may have been made as to where the bodies of Royals executed during that bloodiest of weeks were buried, but none survive, and the accuracy of notations used to identify bones found under the floor during a renovation in the late 19th century are unauthenticated.

St. Peter ad Vincula, Wikimedia, Courtesy of Creative Commons
www.graveyards, Matt Hucke,

There are indeed bones of women scattered in at least two locations, but sources differ as to which if either set were Queen Anne's. A commission formed when the floor was torn up during Victoria’s reign, and a surgeon declared a set of female bones to be of the proper age and configuration. 21st-century historian Alison Weir disagrees and believes bones identified as Anne’s sister-in-law Lady Rochford were the Queen's.

While Dr. Weir does not have sufficient facts to declare the issue resolved, she certainly has enough to raise substantial doubt. It will be ironic if further studies show that Weir is correct since Lady Rochford and Anne Boleyn were reputed rivals for Anne’s brother George’s affections. And to add to the controversy, recent research implies that even that assertion may not be true. Jane Boleyn may not be Anne's jealous sister-in-law after all. She may just have been a scapegoat.

The fact that Anne’s burial site has not been resolved is further evidence of how little dignity her remains were afforded at the time of her death. As it stands, all that commemorates her final resting place is a plaque in the floor placed at the behest of Queen Victoria, marking the spot where a wooden box with copper screws in embedded in the concrete, and which may or may not contain the bones of Anne Boleyn. Alison Weir suspects they belong to Kathryn Howard, wife #5.

Jane Seymour (1509-October 24, 1537):

Perhaps it is time to look at Queen Jane Seymour in a different light than the one in which she has been cast. At least insofar as Henry VIII was concerned, of his six wives, Jane was special. His affections for her are usually explained by her ability to present him with a male heir, an achievement not to be downplayed. However, some recent research suggests there was more to Queen Jane Seymour than her label as ‘a little mouse' implies. At the very least she lasted a year without offending Henry as long as she kept her opinions to herself, a lesson learned when she approached him about pardoning the peasants who had taken part in the Pilgrimage of Grace.

The reign of Henry Tudor’s third wife was painfully brief. She triumphed over both of her predecessors by giving Henry the son he craved, but the birth cost Jane her life. Twelve days later, she was dead, either of a partially unexpelled placenta or puerperal fever. Henry's plans for her elaborate coronation became arrangements for a royal funeral. She was the only one of Henry’s wives to receive one. The funeral procession began at Hampton Court where she had died and thereafter, laid in state, and ended at Windsor Castle, where Henry planned to be interred. Because of the elaborate nature of his tomb, which remained very much a work-in-progress, she was placed in what was planned as a temporary crypt in the Quire of Saint George’s Chapel at Windsor Palace, while Henry sorted the details of the elegant tomb he had been planning for decades. He had hired a series of celebrated Italian sculptors to render elaborate designs, none of which pleased their patron.

Later representation of Henry VIII's family as
he defined it. (Wikimedia Commons, (PD)

Henry had begun planning his tomb during the happy early days of his marriage to Catherine of Aragon. Years later, after five more marriages, he chose to share it with Queen Jane. All he had to do was live long enough to see it finished. He died in 1547, leaving a partially completed set of ornaments for an unfinished tomb.

Sharing a crypt with the mighty Henry VIII should have assured Queen Jane's remains a resting place superior to all others, but such was not the case. Finances and what moderns call regime change intervened. In Henry's will and again, on his deathbed in 1547, he reaffirmed his desire to be buried at Windsor, with Jane alongside him. He anticipated his son and heir, Edward, Prince of Wales, and Edward's powerful Seymour uncles would see to the tomb’s completion, including life-size effigies of Henry and Jane, and a marble statue of himself upon a warhorse. He had not considered continental politics, religious strife in England, or the threat of Calvinism and the Scottish Reformation. Henry's death left Edward Seymour, then Earl of Hereford, and Protector of the Realm, with more pressing problems than a dead king's tomb. As he approached majority, studious and devoutly Protestant Edward VI had no time for such frivolities. During the Catholic restoration that occurred in Mary I’s reign, in spite of her deep affection for Queen Jane, she had no desire to deify the father who had rejected her. When Protestant, parsimonious Elizabeth Tudor succeeded her half-sister, she found other uses for her money. When Elizabeth I died in 1603, and the Tudor Dynasty made way for the House of Stuart, King James VI of Scotland and I of England, was preoccupied with rehabilitating the image of his mother, Marie Stuart, Queen of Scots, who had been beheaded in 1587 on a warrant signed by Elizabeth Tudor, and buried at Peterborough on the opposite side of the altar from Katharine of Aragon. It was she, who never set foot in England other than as a fugitive, and later, as a prisoner, who was reinterred in a glorious tomb in the Lady Chapel at Westminster. 

To finance the Civil War, Cromwell's Commonwealth parliament sold the effigy of Henry VIII and other substantially completed components of Henry VIII’s planned memorial. The author of the commentary at the Saint George’s Chapel page cited below remarks that ‘a less ambitious scheme achievable during his lifetime would have been a wiser choice’.

CONCLUSION OF PART I ~ Tombs of Henry VIII’s Queens

St.George's Chapel,Wikimedia, courtesy of Alan Thoma

The only marking above the royal vault at Windsor Castle where Henry VIII and his third wife, Queen Jane are buried dates to the 19th century and is as follows:[vi]

IN A VAULT BENEATH THIS MARBLE SLAB ARE DEPOSITED THE REMAINS OF

JANE SEYMOUR QUEEN OF KING HENRY VIII 1537

KING HENRY VIII 1547

KING CHARLES I 1648

AND AN INFANT CHILD OF QUEEN ANNE.

THIS MEMORIAL WAS PLACED HERE BY COMMAND OF KING WILLIAM IV. 1837

Join me in September for a look at the burial sites of Henry VIII's last three consorts, Anne of Cleves, Kathryn Howard, and Katharine Parr.

Notes:
[i] The author uses the spelling that appears at the site where the Queen is buried. Mattingly uses the popular spelling of the name. The queen herself signed as Katalina.

[ii] Garrett Mattingly, infra, states the King secretly married Jane Seymour the day after Anne’s execution, i.e., on May 20, 1936, not May 29.

[iii] Mattingly, Garrett, Catherine of Aragon, 1941, Book of the Month Club Edition, 1990, pages 429-430.

[iv] See the official Peterborough Cathedral website for an excellent recap of Katherine’s life, the present festival held in her honor, and a short biography. http://www.peterborough-cathedral.org.uk/newsarticle.aspx/41/katharine-festival-2016.

[v] The entire quote is found infra.

[vi] http://www.stgeorges-windsor.org/assets/files/LearningResources/BackgroundNotesHenryVIII.pdf

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Historical novelist Linda Root left a career as a major crimes prosecutor anticipating a retirement spent writing Historical Crime Fiction. She began compiling a Murder Book, aimed at convicting Marie Stuart, Queen of Scots of conspiracy in her husband Lord Darnley’s murder. Instead of the book she planned, her research inspired her to write a novel, The First Marie and the Queen of Scots, first published in 2011. It was followed in 2013 by The Last Knight and the Queen of Scots and four stand-alone books in the The Legacy of the Queen of Scots series, with a fifth in progress: They are: 1) Unknown Princess (formerly The Midwife's Secret; 2) The Last Knight’s Daughter, (formerly The Other Daughter); 3) 1603: The Queen’s Revenge;  and 4) In the Shadow of the Gallows. The Deliverance of the Lamb will be published this winter..She has also published an adult fantasy, The Green Woman, as J. D. Root.Visit her Amazon Author Page for a complete list:
http://www.amazon.com/Linda-Root/e/B0053DIGM8/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1461277095&sr=1-2-ent

Born in the Tower: The ‘Crimes’ of Lady Katherine Grey

by Ella March Chase

Anne Boleyn was executed for lack of a son. Katherine of Aragon was divorced because none of her sons lived. Jane Seymour was smart enough to bear a son and then die before Henrv VIII could tire of her, thus gaining an almost saint-like image in the notorious king’s eyes. Arguably the most infamous period in English history took place during the years when Henry VIII married six times, broke with the Catholic Church and was excommunicated in his quest for a healthy son to inherit the crown.

Years later, when his daughter Elizabeth Tudor inherited the throne, she was harangued by her advisors for most of her reign because she refused to marry and produce an heir of her body. Ask any lover of Tudor history what the first duty of a woman of noble blood was, the answer would be ‘to produce a healthy son and heir.”

But many people do not know of a more obscure princess of the blood who was imprisoned in the tower as a result of the fact that she bore not one, but two healthy boys with royal Tudor blood in their veins: Sons born in the Tower of London who defied the odds and lived to grow up—healthy and strong.

What was this fecund Princess of the Blood’s name? Lady Katherine Grey, younger sister of The Nine Days Queen, Lady Jane Grey, one of the three Grey sisters who captured my heart and inspired my newest release, Three Maids for a Crown. Who was Lady Katherine Grey? Second daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk-- Henry Grey and Frances Brandon Grey. Great granddaughter of Henry VIII’s favorite sister, the exquisite ‘Tudor Rose’ and former Queen of France, Mary Rose Tudor. Lady Katherine’s Tudor bloodline carried with it a tale of high romance, for after a loveless marriage to the elderly king of France, Mary Rose Tudor eloped with King Henry’s lifelong best friend, the dashing Charles Brandon. In spite of Henry’s outrage, ruinous fines and threats of further reprisals, the king eventually forgave the pair and they were allowed their happy ending.

One can imagine the delight Katherine took in that tale. She was the reputed beauty of the family, said to resemble her famous ancestor. A girl who loved pretty clothes where her sober, studious elder sister Jane favored more severe Protestant garb. Katherine had the gift for charming those who met her while Jane tended to be blunt—often to a fault—and have no time for frivolous pursuits. Their younger sister, Lady Mary, was so small some sources described her as a dwarf and she was labeled with a cruel nickname at court: Crouchback Mary.

When Lady Jane was named queen by the dying King Edward VI, supplanting the claims of Henry
VIII’s “bastard” daughters Mary and Elizabeth, the world must have seemed a glittering prospect for Katherine. But tables turned with alarming speed, “Queen Jane” deposed because the English people rallied around the eldest daughter of Henry VIII. Queen Mary was eventually coerced into executing Jane as a condition to marrying Philip of Spain. But the Catholic Mary had affection for her Grey cousins, making Lady Katherine a Lady of the Bedchamber and considering her as a possible heir in place of Elizabeth.

Saddened by the execution of Jane and their father for high treason, laboring under the pressure of serving the Queen who signed their death warrant, Katherine’s health began to fail. Queen Mary sent her to the Seymour family’s home of Hanworth to heal. There, she fell in love with Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford. Edward understood the shock of losing loved ones to the axe, his father and uncle had both died on Tower Hill. Edward’s family had plunged from the highest offices in the land to disgrace, financial ruin and obscurity.

The two wished to marry, but before they could get the royal permission necessary by law for a princess of the blood to wed, Queen Mary died, Elizabeth Tudor rising in her place. Elizabeth had an understandable dislike of her Grey cousins who, from the time of Katherine of Aragon had sided with those who loathed Anne Boleyn. The Greys had made no secret of the fact that they considered Elizabeth a bastard, possibly not even the king’s real daughter since Boleyn had been condemned of adultery. Greys had snubbed Elizabeth at every turn, attempted to strike her from the succession twice.

Another consideration—Katherine’s beauty. For all her admirable qualities, Elizabeth was also jealous and vain and her beloved Robert Dudley who would become Earl of Leicester, had a distinct weakness for beautiful red heads.

Despite the risk, sometime in October 1560 Lady Katherine claimed a toothache so she could stay behind when Queen Elizabeth went hunting. Then Katherine and her best friend crept out to where Edward Seymour waited with a priest to marry them. (Anglican officials were also called priests at this time). They were keeping things so secret only one witness was present: Edward’s sister and Katherine’s best friend, Lady Jane Seymour.

The lovers met in secret, their time together saddened as Lady Jane grew ill and died. Soon after, Edward was sent to the continent by the queen who felt he was becoming too attached to Lady Katherine Grey. But their marriage was not to remain secret much longer.

Katherine was pregnant, though too horrified at the prospect of facing the queen to allow herself to believe it. Finally, when she was so pregnant she could see the baby moving inside her, the desperate young woman flung herself on the mercy of Robert Dudley, going to his bedroom in the middle of the night to plead for Dudley’s intercession.

Leicester was justifiably appalled. What would the Queen think if she discovered a beautiful, pregnant young woman in his bedchamber? Come morning, he raced to the queen and told her everything.

Never secure on her throne, Elizabeth knew this child—born of unquestionably legitimate noble parents—could mean disaster for her. She was already menaced by Mary, Queen of Scots’ claim.

Elizabeth’s own sister, Queen Mary, had made a disastrous marriage to a foreigner, embroiling England in Spanish affairs despite her best efforts to prevent it. Religious persecution of those of the Reformed Religion had resulted in martyrs burned at the stake at Smithfield. English Protestants were determined this would never happen again.

Elizabeth was showing reluctance to marry at all. If she did marry a foreign prince, entangled loyalties might again burden England. When Lady Katherine Grey delivered a healthy son in the Tower of London, the danger was even greater. Here was a legitimate descendant of Henry VIII’s line, wed to a Protestant English nobleman, who had produced the rarest of commodities: a healthy Tudor prince of the blood who could be heir and secure the succession.

Elizabeth’s only recourse was to demand they produce the priest who married them and a witness to the ceremony. Edward Seymour could not find the priest and Jane Seymour was dead. The baby was labeled illegitimate, the marriage invalid.

Katherine and Edward were imprisoned near each other, but their plight excited much sympathy beyond the Tower walls and, more importantly within. Their jailer allowed husband and wife to visit each other in secret. Again, Katherine conceived, infuriating Elizabeth further by bearing a second healthy son.

Pamphlets spread across England defending the lovers and calling for their release. Elizabeth’s advisors told her she should follow Lady Katherine’s example and marry and bear children herself. The enraged Elizabeth separated the lovers for what would be the last time—sending their older son with his father while sending Lady Katherine and baby Thomas to the care of her uncle. The pair was forbidden to have any written contact with each other.

Elizabeth never relented. Lady Katherine did not see her husband or eldest son again. She died of consumption—and, some believe, a broken heart. She and Edward Seymour never stopped loving each other and Edward never stopped searching for the priest who could prove their marriage legal.

Fifty years after their wedding, Edward did find the priest. But by then, King James was in power and it was in his best interests not to legitimize Lady Katherine Grey’s sons.

In one of the strange twists of history, their grandson followed in the recklessly romantic footsteps of Charles Brandon and Mary Rose Tudor, Edward Seymour and Lady Katherine Grey. He married Arbella Stuart in secret and the pair attempted to flee to France to avoid the wrath of King James. Arbella was captured and imprisoned in the Tower.

One of the most poignant accounts of Katherine Grey describes her in the Tower, her chamber decorated with many of the old furnishings she would have remembered from her sister’s brief reign.

Her rooms were filled with little toy spaniels and a mischievous pet monkey as she lavished love on her little sons and hoped, prayed, believed and planned for the day she and her husband could be together, live a quiet, country life with their sons.

When Edward wed his beloved Katherine, he gave her a puzzle ring, its loops engraved with a poem he had written her:

As circles five by art compact show but one ring in sight, So trust uniteth faithful minds with knot of secret might,
Whose force to break (but greedy death no wight possesseth power),
As time and sequels well shall prove, my ring can say no more.

Their love did endure—a knot of secret might. Despite all their tribulations, Katherine’s last thoughts were of her husband. She wrote to Elizabeth, pleading for the queen to forgive and pardon Edward Seymour after Katherine died. Her last letter to her husband declared her love for him and her happiness that she could call herself his wife. She sent to Edward her puzzle ring, their youngest son and a mourning ring with a death’s head upon it. It was engraved with the words: While I lived, yours.