At Sion House Again
Lady Jane returned to Sion House the next day, and her manner of
doing so was as humble and lowly as her leaving for the Tower had
been grand and ostentatious. She who had been a queen nine
days--which, by the way, is said to have given rise to the saying, 'A
nine days' wonder'--laid down her royalty, as we have seen, without a
sigh, and returned to Isleworth in a hired litter, attended only by
myself and Mistress Ellen, and escorted by a few of the Duke of
Suffolk's followers and Sir William Wood, whom nothing would hinder
from paying his last token of respect and ready service to her
vanished queendom. The Duke and Duchess of Suffolk followed to Sheen
House, Richmond, later on, the former well nigh distraught with grief
and vexation, and the latter in a state of peevishness and anger,
which boded ill for her daughter when once she was within reach of
her tongue.
But Lady Jane and I rejoiced that, at length, the right was
prevailing and the lawful queen was coming to her own, though I think
if we had known of the misery and bloodshed which she would bring
upon the Protestants in this country, our joy would have been turned
into sorrow.
Isleworth, where Sion House is situated, is about twelve miles from
London City, in a sweet country of green trees and verdant meadows.
It is two miles from Richmond, where the magnificent palace--a
favourite seat of royalty[1]--faces the river and imparts grandeur to
the scene.
[1] This was in 1553. The palace has been pulled down now.--ED.
The country looked fresh and beautiful to us after the stone walls
and roofs and chimneys of the city, and the air was sweet and
pleasant after the closer atmosphere of the metropolis; though
certainly in the Tower we got breezes from the river as well as the
ill odours of the town. We thought that now we could return to the
quiet, studious life we led before, and my lady spoke of teaching me
Greek and Latin that I might share her studies--but, alas, such
things were not to be.
Lord Guildford Dudley, though bitterly disappointed at the turn of
events, and anxious for the safety of his father, of whom we had no
certain tidings, became reconciled to Lady Jane, and they spent more
time together than before, which necessarily deprived me of the
society of my dear mistress and threw much idle time upon my hands.
After the stirring events through which we had been passing, and
whilst they were still happening in the great city we had turned our
backs upon, I could not settle down to sewing and embroidering, as
Mistress Ellen would fain have made me, but took to wandering about
the grounds of Sion House and especially down by the river, with
vague yearnings which I scarcely put into clear thoughts; but seeing
that they had their root in witnessing the happiness my mistress felt
in being once more the cherished companion of her lord, and that my
gaze was ever fixed upon the river up which Sir Hubert Blair once
came to me in his boat, it was evident that he was the loved object
of my every thought and wish. Where was he in the great and exciting
events that were taking place? I had never seen him since the day of
the preaching at St. Paul's Cross, when he rescued me from Sir
Claudius Crossley's hands. It seemed strange to me afterwards that
he had not joined his friend, Sir William Wood, in escorting Lady
Jane back to Sion House, but I had not an opportunity of inquiring of
Sir William about him. And now he stayed away. What did it mean? I
spent hours in vague conjectures and in wondering what course he was
pursuing in the present state of affairs. Of one thing I was
certain. He would not, like the Council, have gone over to Mary's
side, now that the Duke of Northumberland was away and people were
acknowledging her on all sides. He was too true a man to forsake the
weaker cause, and too valiant to give in because others were
succumbing, and yet if he did the opposite and kept his standard
raised for Queen Jane, what danger he would be in! Imprisonment and
even death might befall my prince of men.
I was thinking of this one evening, with tear-dimmed eyes gazing on
the river, brilliant just then with the reflected light of a most
gorgeous sunset, when, hearing the gentle splashing of oars, I turned
quickly and perceived Sir Hubert in a boat being rapidly rowed
towards me by two strong boatmen. Sir Hubert was sitting in the
stern of the boat, with keen eyes scanning the riverside, and upon
perceiving me he took off his hat and waved it, whilst his face, so
grave a moment before, lighted up with smiles.
He said something to the boatmen, and immediately after, the boat
having been run to our little landing-stage, he jumped out, and they
pulled away, leaving him coming up the steps and walking towards me.
I was so glad to see him, he looked so strong and brave that all my
fears and anxieties regarding his safety disappeared, and with joy I
hurried forward to place both my hands in his.
'Welcome! welcome!' I said, and could say no more of all the words of
love and greeting crying out in my mind for utterance.
He, too, seemed to find a difficulty in speech, but he led me to a
seat near the water, and we sat down, hand in hand, in silence, which
was more eloquent than any words.
After a little while, he told me the news of what had been occurring
in the City and the open field, where the Duke of Northumberland led
the forces, and as he spoke of treachery and cowardice, I scarcely
knew my lover in the pale, indignant man.
'You must know, Margery,' he said to me, 'that the Council, after
proclaiming Mary Queen, sent the herald, Richard Rose, to the Duke of
Northumberland with a message commanding him to disband his army and
acknowledge Queen Mary, under penalty of being declared a traitor.
But, even before receiving these orders, he had himself submitted in
a cowardly, undignified manner. He had withdrawn from Bury St.
Edmunds to Cambridge, where, on the Sunday, he caused the
Vice-Chancellor of the University to preach a sermon against the
rights and the religion of Mary, and the following day, when the news
arrived from London of the revolution that had taken place there, he
went to the Market place and declared aloud that Mary whom they had
been denouncing, was the rightful queen. Moreover, he flung up his
cap, as if in joy, whilst tears of mortification and regret rolled
down his face. "Queen Mary is a merciful woman," he said to the
Vice-chancellor, "and doubtless all will receive the benefit of her
generous pardon." The Vice-chancellor, however, gave him no hope,
for he said if the queen were ever so inclined to pardon, those who
ruled her would destroy him, whoever else was pardoned. Immediately
afterwards he was arrested and sent off to the Tower.'
'What a fall for the proud Northumberland!' exclaimed I.
'Proud no longer!' said Sir Hubert. 'His behaviour, when arrested,
was abject in the extreme. He fell on his knees before the Earl of
Arundel, who arrested him, and begged for his life.'
'Where was his dignity?' cried I, and then, the next instant I asked,
'will they kill him?'
'Yes. He will be executed for high treason.'
'How dreadful!' said I, adding 'How grieved my dear lady will be,
although he has been so cruel to her!'
'And many others, braver than he, were sent to the Tower,' continued
my lover, 'and amongst them even Bishop Ridley.'
'Bishop Ridley!'
'Yes. For preaching that sermon at St. Paul's Cross. They say it is
like to cost him his life.'
'His life! Will Mary be so wicked as to kill a clergyman because of
what he said in his sermon?' asked I.
'Yes,' answered Sir Hubert. 'She is capable of doing far more than
that. Did I not tell you what a Papist's rule in England would mean,
Margery? Rivers of blood will flow. And they will be Protestants on
whom Mary will wreak her vengeance. There is no animosity in the
world so bitter, as what is called religious animosity. Remember
what they did to our Lord. Think you the Jews of old would have
crucified so cruelly an innocent man if it had not been a matter of
religion that was at issue?'
'True! true!' I said, wondering at the astuteness of my dear one.
'But, alas!' I sobbed, the next moment. 'If Mary will be so bitter
against her Protestant enemies, what, oh! what will be the fate of my
dear Lady Jane?'
Sir Hubert looked very grave.
'I can see no hope for her,' he said, 'if Mary is allowed to reign.'
'Why do you say, if Mary is allowed to reign,' I exclaimed, 'when she
is reigning already?'
'Not yet!' cried Sir Hubert, in confident tones. 'Not yet! There
are some who will never lay down their swords whilst they can wield
them on behalf of Lady Jane.'
'A few doubtless,' exclaimed I. 'But, oh, what can a few do against
so many, many others?'
'It is on the rightfulness of our cause that we rely,' said my dear
knight. 'There is a saying, Margery, that if you give a man rope
enough he will hang himself, and of course it holds good with a woman
also. Mary has already pounced on a bishop and imprisoned him--or
her followers have--and soon she will begin to burn Protestants
alive. Then, by that blaze, the nation will awake to see what they
are doing and the whole of Protestant England will rise as one man,
and deposing Mary, put down papistry with an iron hand.'
'And meanwhile,' I said, 'my dear Lady Jane? And Master Montgomery,
too,' my thoughts reverting to the good curate, who had taught me so
many lessons of truth and righteousness at home, 'and you, my dear
one, what will become of you?'
'If Mary reigns, the life of Lady Jane hangs on single thread,' Sir
Hubert answered, oracularly. 'If papistry is upheld by the ruling
power, your friend, Master Montgomery's life is not secure for a
single day, or an hour. And, as for me, I am well aware that by
refusing to submit myself to Mary, I am liable at any moment to be
apprehended for high treason!'
I gave a great cry, for I knew that the penalty for high treason is
death, and it took my beloved some time to quieten me. When, at
last, I was calmer he said, 'if it were not for you, I should not
care about myself. But, in any case, I am sure you would not wish to
hold me back from doing my utmost to re-establish Lady Jane as Queen
of Great Britain, France and Ireland.'
'But the thing is beyond you!' I cried. 'You and a few others can
never, never compass it--you will only spend your life, your precious
life in the vain effort.'
And I looked around, with a frantic desire to see some one who might
come to my help and assist me to persuade this dear, hot-headed,
valiant knight not to cast himself into the gulf yawning between my
dear Lady Jane and her crown.
The glory of the sunset was over now, the monarch of the skies having
sunk out of sight, and the radiance of his setting was momentarily
waning. A slight river mist was rising and stealing over the land,
like a hazy veil obscuring, though not concealing its rich and
brilliant green. Rooks cawed in the trees hard by, as if they were
having some earnest debate upon affairs of importance in bird-land,
and the distant baying of the watch-dogs up at the house reminded us
that, though apparently alone, we were not far from a big residence.
No one, however, appeared to be in sight on land, and looking across
the darkening water I only perceived a barge, which seemed to be
stationary on our side of the river, a little higher up. A few men
were upon it, but they were too far apart and too insignificant in
appearance to avail me anything, and I looked up to Sir Hubert, whose
eyes were resting upon me, with a yearning look of love.
'For my sake,' I said, tremulously.
But he shook off the temptation and began--
'Whilst I have power to wield a sword----'
He was interrupted. An iron hand was laid on his shoulder, and a
voice of thunder demanded--
'Are you for Queen Mary? Speak. Answer, yea or nay?'
It was Sir Claudius Crossley's ugly face that leered upon us as we
looked round, and it was his hand that gripped my beloved one's
shoulder, whilst behind him stood a little band of wild, ruffianly
men.
Silently along the riverpath they had come from the barge, creeping
up behind us, whilst we were absorbed in the momentous questions
occupying our attention; and now, shielding himself behind the name
of Mary, Sir Claudius was ready for any deed of violence.
'I do not answer ruffians!' cried Sir Hubert, grasping his sword.
The next moment there was a scuffle; the men, some half dozen in
number, threw themselves upon Sir Hubert and caught hold of me, and
whether from fear, or from some blow that was dealt by a coward, not
above fighting women, I know not, but I immediately lost
consciousness and knew no more.