MovieChat Forums > Lady Jane (1986) Discussion > Guildford Dudley, misunderstood?

Guildford Dudley, misunderstood?


I'm anticipating a barrage of strongly worded objections from history buffs, but is it possible that history has misunderstood Guildford Dudley? Pop culture has turned him in to a dashing and romantic figure, such as in this film, while many scholarly accounts depict him as a spoilt child prone to tantrums and mistreatment of his wife. I just read Alison Plowden's biography and was disappointed by her treatment of the marriage. Guildford was barely given mention, and when he was, it was done so with assumptions as to the weakness of his character and a mutual dislike between the couple. I have since been researching him and the marriage, and it seems possible that things were not so grim as most accounts would have us believe. I know there was no grand hollywood love story like in the movie, but it seems there may have been a genuine fondness on his part, if not on hers. He was publicly very attentive of her during her coronation ceremonies, and when she refused to make him king he threw a temper tantrum, wept and was henceforth cold to her. But is it possible that he was genuinely affectionate and that his anger at her was based on personal hurt rather than merely selfish ambition. It seems he then left with his mother who would not allow him to share a bed with such an undeserving wife (according to Alison Weirs biography). Jane dispatched a servant to bring him back with a message that she had no need of him in bed, but would not be publicly humiliated by his desertion. Does it follow that she was not sexually interested in her husband, or was it perhaps one of those common occurrences in marriages when sex is used as a power tool in domestic squabbles? Later, during their imprisonment, the name jane was famously carved in Guildford's cell (generally believed to be done my him, though possibly in tribute to his mother), and also made sincere efforts to see Jane before the execution. She declined, claiming that is would damage the fortitude of their resolution to die, by Alison Plowden's telling. But Weir's biography adds that Jane wrote that they would soon meet again in a better place, and also inquired after Guildford's well-being. She declined to meet with him only after being told that Guildford was extremely distraught, and promised to comfort him by standing at her window as he marched to the scaffold. Was her refusal based on the reason she gave, repugnance at his weakness, or was it perhaps made out of a desire not to make their passing more difficult for him than it already was. Furthermore, Jane wept at his death, and said "Oh, Guildford, Guildford, the bitterness of death." True that this could have been mere distress at the recognition of her own mortality, and natural agitation at having witnessed a brutal execution, but she was not a squeamish sort, not even crying at her own execution. Guildford himself appears to have wept on his way to the scaffold, but the death itself was done with courage and honor. Alison Plowden, who seems determined to paint as unflattering a picture of Guildford as possible, gives passing reference to a biography that makes a case for Guildford having grown genuinely fond of Jane, and I am looking forward to reading it. I realize that all my arguments are based on speculation, but I'd like to think that Guildford was not such a scoundrel and sissy as history has remembered him, and that while the marriage may not have been a true love match, but that there may have been an affection of sorts. Perhaps this is unlikely, but it doesn't seem to be historically impossible.

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Yes, I too believe he was misunderstood in part.

Do I think he was paragon of virtue? No.

But what do we know about him? Very little.

And what we do know about him? How do we know that in some part what we do know about him is a lie. A lie made up to put him in a more unflattering light. Such as him appearing to weep on his way to the scaffold.

Thus, we may never know the whole truth about the situation.

Now, if we only had a time machine . . . ?

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Something of an update to my previous post on one of my favorite historical characters.

Excluding what we now know to be totally bogus, we know so little about him, that he can be anything we want him to be. From hero to villain and anything in between. It has always been this way, and probably will be always this way, as what we think we know about him is contradicted by someone else, and that contradiction is contradicted by someone else. Though . . .?! this can raise a couple of questions.

1st. When the story has been told from so many viewpoints, from fictional characters to actual characters, actual characters, including . . .

his wife, of course
his mother-in-law
his sisters-in-law
his father
his mother
his brother Robert,
etc.

Why, as far as I know, has the story never been told from his viewpoint?

2nd. Lit we know gives more sympathy to children than it does to adults, with certain exceptions. He being one of the exceptions, Thus . . .

Why is he, who is really still a child, and really not an adult yet, even being called baby-hubby by one writer, why is he treated so unsympathetically by most writers?

Even when a more sympathetic characterization, not only makes for a better story (IMHO), but one that is probably more realistic. Thus . . . here are four of the best/most sympathetic fictional books about him that I have found.

Margaret Mullally. Crown in Darkness
A. C. H. Smith. Lady Jane
one of the few men writing on the subject and a novelization of the film screenplay.
Suzannah Dunn. The Lady of Misrule
Susan Higginbotham. Her Highness the Traitor
one of the few Americans writing on the subject.

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More white space, please.

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