GIVING AWAY A KINGDOM
Edward was not fifteen when the Duke of Northumberland became
Protector. At eighteen the boy king was to be really king and to govern
his kingdom as he chose, but until then, although everything was done
in his name, it was the Protector who would rule. Northumberland
thought that in those three years he could gain so great an influence
over the young sovereign that even when the time came to give up the
high office, he would still retain much of his power.
Edward had never been strong, and before many months had passed, it was
clear that he would not live to be eighteen. Northumberland had no mind
to lose his power. What could he do?
One morning in June he went to the chamber of the king. Edward lay by
the window looking out into the bright sunshine.
"My humble greeting to your gracious Majesty," said Northumberland. "I
have brought news that cannot fail to give to your Highness an increase
of health and strength."
"I think that nothing can do that," said Edward, "but good news will at
least make the day less weary. What is it that you have to tell?"
"That two of those followers of the Pope who have most strongly opposed
your Majesty's efforts for the good of the land have at last accepted
godly counsel."
"I rejoice," said the king. "Would that the Princess Mary were one of
them. Is it true, my lord, that no word of submission to him who is
rightly the supreme head of the church in England has come from her
Grace?"
"It is true, your Highness."
"Then when I die--no, my lord, do not deny it. I know well that few
days are left to me--my sister will be on the throne. She will bring
back the falseness of the old religion. Not the sovereign but the
Pope will rule in the land, and I can do nothing to prevent it. How
little power a king has!" Northumberland's heart beat fast. Now was his
opportunity.
"Has your Majesty considered that the rightful heirs of king as well as
of subject are those whom he himself shall name?"
"Do you mean, my lord, that it is my right to name her who shall follow
me? that I could leave the crown to her Grace, the Princess Elizabeth,
if I would?"
"Our glorious ruler, Henry VIII., bequeathed his crown as he would have
it to descend. Surely, it would be in your Majesty's power to leave it
to the Princess Elizabeth's Grace or to whomever of the descendants of
the illustrious sovereign, King Henry VII., your Majesty might choose."
"The Princess Elizabeth was taught the principles of the truth even as
I myself was," mused the king.
"True, your Majesty," agreed the duke, "but she is only twenty years of
age. It might easily come to pass that she would wed a foreign prince
of the false faith, and that the land, now so favored with the light of
truth, would be again plunged into darkness. If she were already wed,
it would be safer, though many in the realm believe that neither of the
daughters of King Henry can rightfully inherit the crown. An heir upon
whom all must unite would save strife and it may be bloodshed."
"That might well be," said the king thoughtfully. Then Northumberland
suggested boldly, though with some inward fear:--
"The sisters of your Majesty's illustrious father, could you----" the
duke hesitated.
"The granddaughter of Margaret Tudor is the Queen of Scots, the little
maiden who refused my hand," said the king with a faint smile, "but
she is of the false faith. The granddaughter of Mary Tudor is my old
playmate, the lady Jane Grey, or is she not now Lady Dudley, my lord?
Was it not a few days ago that she became the wife of your son? She is
well-principled in the truth."
"Do not fancy, I beg your Highness, that a thought of what your Majesty
had in mind moved me to look with favor upon the mutual affection of
the young couple."
"No," said the young king a little wearily. "Arrange it in any way that
you will to have the kingdom fall into the hands of her who will lead
it more fully into the light, and bear it further from the idolatrous
worship of the earlier days."
Northumberland had obtained his wish, but there must be lawyers to
write a deed of gift of the crown. He went to three judges of the realm
and gave them the king's command.
"Gladly would we see the faith of his Majesty more fully established,"
they said, "but, my lord duke, in the time of King Henry Parliament
decreed that whoever did aught to change the order of succession to the
crown should suffer death as a traitor."
Northumberland persuaded and threatened, but the judges had no mind
to run the risk of losing their heads for the sake of setting his
daughter-in-law upon the throne of England.
"If you had the written pardon of the king, would you do it?" demanded
Northumberland, and after much discussion the judges hesitatingly
agreed. Edward was now as eager as the Protector to have it made sure
that Lady Jane would ascend the throne, and he willingly signed a
pardon to free them from all punishment, if they were ever accused of
breaking the law of the land. The pardon was signed, then the deed of
gift, bequeathing the crown to Lady Jane, was signed. The dying king
rejoiced, but the bold schemer trembled.
There were very good reasons why each of four women had a right to feel
honestly that she alone ought to be queen of England. These four were
Mary, Elizabeth, Mary, the child Queen of Scots, who was descended from
Margaret, sister of Henry VIII., and last, Lady Jane, who was descended
from his youngest sister Mary. According to King Henry's will, which
Parliament had confirmed, the crown was to go to Lady Jane, if Henry's
three children died without heirs. It seemed quite possible that she
might some day be the ruler of England, and her parents set to work to
prepare her to become a queen.
Now when less than a century ago a lady in England found that her
little daughter Victoria would probably be the sovereign of her
country, she said, "I want you to be a good woman, and then I shall be
sure that you will be a good queen." Lady Jane's parents thought more
of training her to do everything according to the etiquette of the
court, and they were so anxious that she should walk and talk and sit
and eat and dance precisely as they thought a queen ought to perform
those acts, that they were exceedingly severe with her. She was a
gentle, loving girl, and she did her best to satisfy them, but she was
upbraided and pinched and struck whenever she was in their presence.
The one great pleasure in her life was the time that she spent with her
teacher, whom she called "Master Aylmer," for he was so kind to her and
so gentle in all his ways that she was happy when the hour of study had
arrived.
Everyone knew that Northumberland was the most powerful man in the
kingdom, and when he said to Lady Jane's father, the Marquis of Dorset,
"If you will give your daughter to my son Guilford to wife, I will
persuade the king to make you a duke," the marquis was delighted. Lady
Jane was but sixteen and Lord Guilford Dudley was only one year older.
They were married at once with the most brilliant festivities.
Not many days after the wedding, King Edward became very ill.
"Hold yourself in readiness for what may be demanded of you," said
Northumberland to Lady Jane. "Should the king fail to recover, you are
made by his Majesty heir of his realm."
The girl of sixteen had never thought of such a thing as becoming
queen of England until many years should have passed, and probably
not even then, and she was greatly troubled. She dared not disobey
Northumberland, and when a few days later he sent his daughter to bring
her to the royal council, she did not venture to refuse. When the duke
and the other members of the council entered the room, they fell on
their knees before her and kissed her hand.
"We make our humble submission to your Majesty as our sovereign lady
and rightful ruler of this realm of England," said they.
Lady Jane was much abashed, and she said:--
"My lords, I can but thank you for the grace that you show to one who
is so unworthy of such honor; but if I understand your words aright,
you greet me as your sovereign lady and ruler. My lords, there is
surely some grievous error. His Majesty, King Edward, is, happily,
still on the throne, and even if it had pleased God to remove his
Grace from earth to heaven, no claim have I so long as the Princesses
Mary and Elizabeth live. Will your lordships grant me permission to
withdraw?"
Then spoke the Duke of Northumberland:--
"Your Majesty and members of the royal council, it is a painful
duty that falls to my lot to announce the death of our beloved and
illustrious king, Edward VI. Much reason have we to rejoice not only in
his praiseworthy life and his countless acts of goodness and clemency,
but especially in that he, being at the close of his days, thought most
earnestly upon the welfare of his realm. In his last hour on earth he
prayed that his kingdom might be defended from the popish faith, and he
left it in the hands of her who he believed would be faithful to the
trust, and would guard the land from falsehood and from error."
All her life Lady Jane had known and loved the young king. Tears came
to her eyes. She looked pitifully about the room. Several noble ladies
had been brought into the council chamber, but not one had even a
glance of sympathy for the young girl. The Duchess of Northumberland
frowned at her, and her own mother whispered sternly, "Demean yourself
as is fitting for a queen."
"His Majesty gave command to his council," said the duke, "and they
have no choice save to obey him. Thus declares the will of the king,
signed and sealed, and drawn up by three capable judges of the realm.
It names as his heir and successor on the throne of England her
gracious Highness, Lady Jane, descendant of Mary, who was the youngest
and most beloved sister of his Majesty, King Henry VIII."
Then all the lords of the council knelt at the feet of Lady Jane. "We
render to your Majesty only the honor that is due," said they, "for you
are of true and direct lineage heir to the crown. With deliberate mind
we have promised to his Highness, King Edward VI., that in your Grace's
cause we will spare neither goods nor lands nor the shedding of our
blood."
Lady Jane stood before them, white and trembling. Then grief and pain
overcame her, and with a sudden burst of tears she fell to the ground.
When she was a little recovered, she said to them:--
"My lords, I can but grieve from my heart for the death of so noble a
prince and one that was so dear to me. I am weak and feeble. I have
little power to govern the land as he in his greatness of mind and of
heart would have done, but if that which you say has been given me
is rightfully and lawfully mine own, then will I turn to God in my
insufficiency and humbly beseech his grace and spirit that I may rule
the land to its advantage and to his glory and service."
In the afternoon of the same day Lady Jane went in state to the Tower
of London, for it was an old custom that sovereigns should go forth
from the Tower on the day of their coronation. Her relatives knelt
before her and humbly promised to be obedient to her commands; and her
own mother walked meekly behind her, bearing the daughter's train. In
the evening she was proclaimed in London ruler of the kingdom. There
was little rejoicing. The people as a whole were sullen and silent,
for most of them understood that the affair was but a scheme of
Northumberland's to gain power for himself.
[Illustration: Lady Jane Grey and Roger Ascham.--_From painting by J.
C. Horsley._]
The duke knew that if Mary and Elizabeth were free after Edward's
death was known, a party would be formed in favor of one or the other,
and therefore he had planned to get them both into his hands. He sent
messengers to them to say that the king was very ill and begged that
they would give him the happiness and comfort of their presence.
Elizabeth paid no heed to the message. Either she was really ill,
as she said, or she was wise enough to suspect that there was some
trickery about this sudden demand for her society, when for so long
a time she had not been allowed to see her brother. At any rate, she
remained in her own house.
Mary returned word by a swift rider that she was made very happy by
the thought that she could help to bring cheer and consolation to her
brother, and she set out at once to go to him. When she was only a few
miles from London, a man who had been her goldsmith came riding in hot
haste.
"Your Grace," he said, "I beg that you will go no farther. The king
is not ill, he is dead. Northumberland plans to set Lady Jane upon
the throne. Flee, I do pray you." Mary hesitated. Was the word of
the goldsmith true? Whom could she trust? Should she go on to London
and perhaps be thrown into the prison of the Tower by Northumberland?
Should she flee to Norfolk and refuse, it might be, her brother's last
tender wishes? Was it a trap to make her declare herself queen and
then behead her for treason? While she questioned, another rider came,
a nobleman whom she trusted, and he told her that the king was indeed
dead.
Mary turned toward Norfolk. Night came on. The princess herself
and many of her retinue were exhausted. They asked for shelter
at a country-seat. It was given them, but the Protestants in the
neighborhood had heard that Edward was dead and that the Catholic
princess was among them. A mob set out in the morning to destroy the
house that had sheltered her. Mary had been warned of the danger and
had ridden away. She glanced back from the top of a hill and saw the
house in flames. "Let it go," she cried. "I will build him a better
one."
As soon as she reached her own castle in Norfolk, she sent a letter to
the royal council saying:--
"We are greatly surprised that we have had from you no knowledge of the
death of our brother, but we trust your love and your loyalty. Whatever
may have been said to us of any disloyal intentions on your part we
do put far from us, and do agree to grant you pardon and receive you
graciously into our service as true and faithful subjects."
Even though the councilors had failed to secure Mary, they still
believed that their side would win, and they sent her a rather arrogant
letter. It said:--
"Lady Jane is our queen, but if you will show yourself quiet and
obedient as you ought, you will find us all ready to do you any service
that we with duty may."
Mary then rode to Framlingham, a strongly fortified castle some twenty
miles away. It was so near the sea that she could escape to the
continent if flight should become necessary, but she could hardly have
been in a safer place. The walls of the stronghold were eight feet
thick; town and fortress were surrounded by three deep moats. Here she
flung out her banner and called upon all loyal subjects to come to the
assistance of their rightful queen. So many thousands gathered that
she ventured to set out for London, and as she drew near the city, she
met such a welcome that she disbanded her army.
Now at Edward's death when Northumberland saw that his plan to capture
Elizabeth had failed, he sent a messenger to promise her land and money
if she would but resign all title to the crown. With rare wisdom for so
young a woman, she replied:--
"That is not for me to say. Lady Mary is by my father's will and by
decree passed in open Parliament the rightful queen of the realm.
Whatever my claim may be, I can make no challenge so long as my sister
doth live." Elizabeth then set out to meet Mary, and they entered
London together, followed by a long train of ladies and noblemen, and
escorted by the city guard.
Northumberland too, had collected an army, but his men deserted by
hundreds. In less than two months after he had triumphantly set his
daughter-in-law upon the throne, he was executed, together with two of
those who had most strongly supported him. Lady Jane and her husband
were imprisoned. Mary's advisers declared that there was no safety for
her so long as Lady Jane lived, but Mary refused to put her to death.
As the day for the coronation drew near, there were great rejoicings.
Many of those that did not wish to have a Catholic ruler were so glad
to be free from Northumberland's schemes and to feel that she who was
lawfully their queen was now on the throne that they were ready to
unite in the joy of the others. In the procession to the Tower, Queen
Mary rode in a litter, or chariot, drawn by six horses, glittering in
their trappings of cloth of silver. She was robed in the richest of
blue velvet, made even richer by bands of ermine. She wore a sort of
head-dress, so heavy with gold and pearls and jewels that she often
had to hold up her head with her hands. In a litter almost as splendid
as her own rode Elizabeth and her first stepmother, Anne of Cleves.
Noble ladies rode on horseback in all the splendors of crimson velvet.
Companies of guards followed in white and green, the royal colors.
The next morning after all this magnificence, there was such a
brilliant display as made the gorgeousness of the ride through the
city seem simple and modest, for the queen was to be crowned in
Westminster Abbey.
When she was on the platform in full view of the people, the Bishop of
Winchester demanded of them whether it was their will that the crown
should be placed on the head of the most excellent princess, Mary,
eldest daughter of King Henry VIII. The people shouted, "Yea, yea!
Queen Mary, Queen Mary!" Mary made a solemn promise to govern England
aright and faithfully preserve the liberties of the people. Then
followed all kinds of ceremonies, changing of robes, and sounding of
trumpets. She was girded with a sword, a ring was put upon her finger,
and at last the crown was solemnly placed upon her head. This was by no
means the end of it all, for many nobles came to kneel before her and
promise to be true to her. Each one of them kissed her cheek.
In all this ceremonial as well as in the feasting and the
entertainments that followed it, the Princess Elizabeth was in every
way ranked next to the queen. Elizabeth wore the coronet of a princess.
"It is very heavy," she whispered to the French ambassador. "Be
patient," murmured he, "it will be parent to a better one."
Parliament was soon in session, and one of the important questions to
be decided was what should be done with Lady Jane.
"She attempted to seize the crown from Mary, who is our rightful
sovereign," declared one, "and she should be put to death as a traitor."
"What she did was done at the bidding of the Duke of Northumberland,"
said another. "She was but a tool in his hands, and she should be
freed."
"That cannot well be," objected a third. "Whoever commits a crime is
guilty of that crime and must bear the punishment."
"Yes," agreed the first, "and moreover, some who would question
Elizabeth's right to the throne would perchance unite under the banner
of Jane. There will be neither rest nor safety in the kingdom so long
as she is spared to lead any rebellious faction that may need a head."
Parliament decided that Lady Jane was guilty of treason, and she was
sentenced to be either burned or beheaded as the queen should choose.
Everyone was sorry for her. Even those that condemned her could hardly
look upon the young girl without tears, and when she was taken back to
her prison in the Tower, crowds of weeping people followed her.
"She is to be put to death 'at the queen's pleasure,'" said one royal
attendant to another. "Do you believe it will be soon?"
"He who dwells in a palace should see but not speak," answered the
other. "To you, however, I may venture to whisper that the death of
Lady Jane will never be 'the queen's pleasure.'"