THE NINE DAYS’ REIGN
As soon as Jane Grey and her escort had entered the royal apartments
of the Tower, the heralds trumpeted, and a few minutes later (it was
close on six o’clock), four of them read the new Queen’s proclamation,
one of the most tedious State documents in existence, and the first in
which a woman claims the title of “Supreme Head of the Church.”[221]
The ceremony of solemn proclamation within the precincts of the Tower
once over, other heralds proceeded for the same purpose to Cheapside
and the Fleet. In Cheapside, a potboy who was heard to disapprove of
the wordy document, and of the expression “bastard” applied to the Lady
Mary, was arrested, and treated after a fashion quaintly described
by Machyn,[222] who says, “there was a young man taken that time for
speaking of certain words of Queen Mary, that she had the right title.
The xj day of July, at viij of the clock in the morning, the young man
for speaking was set on the pillory, and both his ears cut off; for
there was a herald, and a trumpeter blowing; and incontinent he was
taken down, and carried to the Counter; and the same day was the young
man’s master dwelling at Saint John’s head, his name was Sandor Onyone,
and another, master Owen, a gun-maker at London Bridge was drowned,
dwelling at Ludgate.”[223]
It is curious that the original of this unique proclamation should have
passed into the hands of Cecil, who endorsed it with the significant
words--“_Jana non Regina_.”
From every point of view, Queen Jane’s proclamation was ill-advised.
It was prodigiously long-winded, even for that period, and the manner
in which it dealt with the claims of Mary and Elizabeth, brutal in
frankness, was well calculated to offend the Catholic Powers, and
cruelly wound the personal feelings of the late King’s sisters. Queen
Mary’s resentment is proved by the stern simplicity of the language
of the death-warrant of Northumberland, Lady Jane, and Guildford,
which allows none of them the vestige of a title. Elizabeth, in later
life, never alluded to her cousin Jane without bitterness. Jane
was, of course, perfectly innocent of the offensive wording of this
document,[224] but it nevertheless bore her signature. The sentence
which infuriated the Princesses ran as follows: “And, forasmuch as the
said limitation of the Imperial Crowne of this Realme, being limited
as is aforesaid to the said Lady Mary and the said Lady Elizabeth,
being illegitimate the marriage between the said King Henry VIII our
progenitor and great uncle, and the Lady Katherine, mother to the said
Lady Mary, and also the marriage between the said late King Henry
VIII and the Lady Anne, mother to the said Lady Elizabeth, being very
clearly undone by sentence of divine, according to the word of God,
and the ecclesiastical laws. The Ladies Mary and Elizabeth are to all
intents and purposes divested to claim or challenge the said Imperial
Crown or any other honours, etc., appertaining thereunto, etc.”
This proclamation, as well as most of the other official documents
of Jane’s reign, which are generally attributed to Northumberland,
was, we may take it for granted, edited by the celebrated Sir John
Cheke, who entered the Tower at the same time as Lady Jane and was
her Secretary throughout the whole of her nine days’ reign. We have
already mentioned in more than one place this distinguished Greek
scholar, who had been for a time tutor to Edward VI, over whom he had a
great influence, and by whom he was knighted at the same time that the
Marquis of Dorset was elevated to the Dukedom of Suffolk in 1551. At
the period of Jane’s misfortunes he was between thirty-nine and forty
years of age, greatly in favour with his royal pupil, and holding the
office of Clerk to the Council; so that when there was a talk of Cecil
resigning his secretaryship, Cheke was, on 2nd June 1553, appointed
a principal Secretary of State, Cecil however continuing in office;
and on 11th June, Cheke sat in the Council for the first time as
Secretary. It is probable that Northumberland suggested his nomination
to the King, for the express purpose of interesting a diplomat of such
ability in the forthcoming conspiracy to place Jane on the throne. He
was far too high-minded a man to be influenced by pecuniary motives,
but undoubtedly his zeal for the Reformation was such that he desired
the advent of Jane, which meant a continuance of the Reformation,
rather than the coming of Mary, which he fully realised would be
disastrous to it. Cheke’s appointment to the office of Secretary of
State gave great joy to the Reformers, and Ascham, then in Brussels
with our Ambassador, Morysone, wrote him a laudatory letter, in which
he congratulates England, the State, Cambridge, and St. John’s College
on having produced so learned and worthy a man! Great must have been
Cheke’s delight when he beheld Queen Jane, the hope of Protestantism,
actually enthroned in the Tower; and it must have been a consolation
to Lady Jane to have about her so capable and at the same time so
upright a man--one devoted, not only to her personally, but especially
to the cause she represented. Cheke tried to induce the cunning Cecil
to take an active part in the Government; Strype says, “He checked his
brother Cecil who would not be induced to meddle in this matter, but
endeavoured to be absent.”
Before this, the first day of her reign, came to a close, Jane signed
a letter to William Parr, Marquis of Northampton, Lord Lieutenant of
Surrey, informing him of her entry into the Tower “this day.” After the
usual preamble concerning the death of Edward, the document proceeds:
“we are entered into our rightful possession of this kingdom, as by
the last will of our said dearest cousin our late ancestor ... now
therefore do you understand we do this day make our entry into our
Tower of London as rightful queen of this realm, and have accordingly
set forth our proclamation to all our loving subjects, giving them
thereby to understand ... their duty of allegiance which they now of
right owe unto us ... nothing doubting, right trusty and well beloved
counsellor, but that you will endeavour yourself in all things to the
uttermost of your power, not only to defend our just title, but also
assist us ... to disturb, repel, and resist, the feigned and untrue
claim of the Lady Mary, bastard daughter to our great uncle Henry th’
Eight, of famous memory.”
This missive was later on shown to Mary, and increased her resentment
against Jane, whose signature it bore, and also against Northumberland,
who drew up the original draft, though the copy Jane signed was made
by some clerk, perhaps by Sir John Cheke. Cecil was, therefore, wise
to number the composition of this compromising epistle among the
many dangerous offices out of which he contrived to shuffle; for
it is certainly to this letter to Northampton that he refers in his
“Submission,” by the words, “I eschewed the writing of the Queen’s
Highness, _bastard_, and therefore the Duke (of Northumberland) wrote
the letter himself which was sent abroad in the Realm.” The Duke so
fully appreciated the dangerous nature of the document, that later
on he endorsed the clerk’s copy of it with the words, “_Jana non
Regina_”--just as Cecil did with the proclamation.[225]
All her State duties over, the young Queen supped in state at a
small table on a dais, the Duke of Suffolk on her right, the Duke of
Northumberland on her left, and the two Duchesses opposite to her. She
was indisposed, and retired early, the whole company rising as she left
her seat.
The following morning (11th July) there was a violent scene[226]
between Jane, her husband, and his mother. So far as can be
ascertained, the marriage had not hitherto gone beyond the stage of
ceremony, and Guildford Dudley and his bride had never lived as man and
wife. The Duchess of Northumberland insisted that this state of affairs
should cease, resolving that “her son should share the new Queen’s bed
and throne, and forthwith assume the title of King Consort.” With this
object, the ambitious parent and her docile son made a sudden incursion
into Jane’s chamber, whilst she was still seated at her toilet. The
Duchess vituperated her daughter-in-law, using coarse and violent
language; the would-be King was noisy and impertinent! But Jane stoutly
refused to grant the latter part of the Duchess’s request. “The Crown,”
she said, “was not a plaything for boys and girls. She could make her
husband a Duke, but only Parliament could make him a King.”[227] On
these words the Duchess burst into a fury, and paced angrily up and
down the floor, swearing her strongest oaths, that her son should be
King, whether Jane would or not. Guildford, who was boyish, began
to cry, and left the room. Jane had to endure another scene of the
most unpleasant description with the Duchess, in the midst of which
Guildford, still sulking, returned. His mother presently caught his
hand and drew him out of the room, saying “she would not leave him with
an ungrateful wife.”
Thereupon Jane sent for the Earls of Arundel and Pembroke, and asked
their advice. They apparently approved of the line she had taken, and
going to young Guildford, informed him he must on no account leave the
Tower, nor agree to the Duchess’s proposal that he should separate from
his wife, and return with her (_i.e._ his mother) to Sion House. It is
quite probable that if he had done so, his life would have been spared.
Lady Jane’s account of this stormy interview is as follows: “The Lord
High Treasurer, Winchester,” says she, “brought me the regalia and the
Crown, the which were neither demanded by _me_ nor by any one in _my
name_[228]; he desired to place it on my head to see how it fitted.
This I declined with many protestations; but he said, ‘I might take it
boldly, for that he would have another made to crown my husband with.’
Which thing I certainly heard with infinite grief, and displeasure of
heart. As soon as I was left alone with my husband I reasoned with him,
and after we had had a great dispute he consented to wait till he was
made King by me and Act of Parliament.” Jane then relates what we have
already said--how she sent for the Earls of Arundel and Pembroke, and
the scene with the Duchess and her threat of carrying Guildford off to
Sion; also how the two Earls were charged to keep Guildford from going
there. “And thus,” concludes the narrative, “I was compelled to act
as a woman who is _obliged_ to live on good terms with her husband;
nevertheless I was not only deluded by the Duke and the Council, but
maltreated by my husband and his mother.”
Disregarding Jane’s prudent advice, her ambitious young husband
nevertheless did his best to get himself recognised King of England.
In the minutes of a dispatch which must have been written during the
nine days’ reign of his wife, and is addressed to the Duchess-Regent
of the Netherlands by Guildford’s directions, he recalls Sir Thomas
Chamberlayne (English Minister in that country) and desires that “in
all _his_ (Guildford’s) affairs” full credit be given to Sir Philip
Hoby.[229] One of the first acts, therefore, of Jane’s Council was to
nominate Sir Philip, then at Brussels, as successor to Chamberlayne;
this nomination is signed “Jane the Quene.” Jane herself, true
to what she said to her mother-in-law and to Guildford, does not
appear to have recognised her husband as King, for no mention of
him appears in such of her official documents as have come down to
us. All the same, Guildford contrived to get his claims accepted by
some Continental notabilities. On learning of the death of Edward
VI, Sir Philip Hoby and Sir Richard Morysone,[230] the English
Commissioners in Flanders,--who had doubtless been primed beforehand
by Northumberland,--wrote from Brussels to the Privy Council (under
date of July 15th) that “The xiii^h of this presente, Don Diego found
me Sir Phillipe Hobby (Hoby), and me Sir Richard Morysone, walkyne
in our hostes gardene.” This Don Diego Mendoza[231] was a member of
the Spanish administration in the Low Countries, an old personal
friend of the Dudley family, and, as already stated, godfather to
young Guildford, who had, of course, been baptized a Catholic. On the
occasion of this meeting with the Englishmen, the Spaniard, after the
usual condolences on the death of Edward VI, passed to praises of that
monarch’s wisdom in providing England with so good a King, meaning not
“Jane the Quene,” the rightful heiress of the Realm, but Guildford
Dudley.[232] The truth may be that Diego said nothing of the kind,
and that the English diplomats simply put these words into his mouth,
to confirm the Council in its allegiance to Jane, and make it look on
Guildford as the King, by creating an impression that his right to the
throne was admitted by leading men on the Continent. Don Diego Mendoza
told the Commissioners (they said) that his condolences on the occasion
of the death of King Edward and his offers of service “to the kyng’s
majestie” (Guildford) had been retarded, by the advice of the Bishop of
Arras, a member of the Ministry at Brussels. “Therefore says he (_i.e._
Don Diego, quoted by the Commissioners) do I (feel) sorry that you lose
so good a King, so much do I rejoice that ye have so noble and toward a
_Prince_ to succeed him, and I promise you, by the word of a gentleman,
I would at all times serve His Highness myself if the Emperor (Charles
V) did call me to serve him (_i.e._ “allow me to do so”).” The English
Envoys inform the Council that they told Don Diego “they had received
the sorrowful news (of the death of Edward VI) but the glad tidings
(of the “accession” of Guildford) were not as yet come unto us by
letters”--which was probably true, so far as official intimations of
them went. Upon this Don Diego replied: “I can tell you this much. The
King’s Majesty (Edward VI), for discharge of his conscience, wrote
a good piece of his testament with his own hand, barring both his
sisters of the Crown, and leaving it to the Lady Jane, near to the
French Queen (that is to say, “related to Mary Tudor, Queen of Louis
XII of France”). Whether the two daughters be bastards or not or why
it is done, we that be strangers have nothing to do. You are bound to
obey and serve His Majesty (Guildford Dudley), and therefore it is
reasonable (that) we take him for (_i.e._ “to be”) your King, whom the
consent of the nobles of your country have declared for (“to be”) your
King, and,” he continued, “for my part of all others, I am bound to be
glad that His Majesty is set in this office. I was his godfather, and
would as willingly spend my blood in his service as any subject that
he hath, as long as I shall see the Emperor willing to embrace (His)
Majesty’s amity.” “Don Francisson (Francesco) de Este, general of all
the footmen Itallyanes (Italian Infantry),” the Commissioners add, “is
gone to his charge in mylland (”Milan“), who, at his departure, made
the like offer, as long his master and ours should be friends, which
he trusted should be ever, praying us at our return to utter it to the
King’s Majesty (Guildford), and will (we) humbly take our leave of your
honours.”
It is obvious that, if Diego de Mendoza ever really used the words
attributed to him in this letter, and did not merely lend his name
to the English Commissioners, he must have been well “coached” by
the Dudleys in what he was to say, though his close connection with
Guildford as his godfather would naturally incline him to credit
anything in his favour. Still, knowing Northumberland and Suffolk’s
deep scheming, one cannot suppose that Mendoza’s enthusiasm for
Guildford’s illegal claim to royal honours and his haste to admit
it was entirely uninspired by outside influences. It is, indeed, a
significant fact that Ascham, a great friend of the Duke of Suffolk,
and very intimate with the inner workings of English politics, who
had been sent abroad as Secretary to Morysone in 1550, was still in
Brussels with that knight in the summer of 1553. It is more than
probable, therefore, that Ascham, being in correspondence with Suffolk,
knew beforehand of the forthcoming elevation of Jane to the throne,
and, on behalf of the Duke, advised Hoby and Morysone as to what they
should say and do when that event took place, and also had an interview
with Don Diego to the same end. We may be certain, however, that
Ascham did not countenance the Catholic side of the question.
This letter from the Commissioners was not written until 15th July,
and by the time it reached England the political scene had changed.
It damaged Guildford’s position seriously by its revelation of the
schemes of the Dudleys and their party, who, not content with placing
Northumberland’s daughter-in-law on the throne, were also seeking to
crown that nobleman’s youngest son. From certain documents in the
Belgian and Viennese Archives it would appear that Diego de Mendoza
went so far as to address the Emperor directly on the subject of
Guildford’s right to the throne, even assuring him that his godson
would become a Catholic.
A strong searchlight has been thrown on this hitherto rather obscure
passage in the history of this period by the learned Editor of this
work, in his interesting volume, _Two Queens and Philip_.[233] The
author, it is true, had suspected that Northumberland must have had
some strong foreign support in his audacious attempt to usurp the
throne, ostensibly for Lady Jane, though in reality for his own son,
Guildford, but Major Martin Hume’s researches in the Spanish Archives
have proved beyond a doubt that Charles V was backing him throughout
in his perilous undertaking, and this against the interests of his own
cousin, Mary Tudor.
The Swiss Reformers, and especially Bocher, doubted the sincerity of
Northumberland’s Protestantism, and it is not at all improbable that he
had promised the Emperor that, should he succeed in placing Guildford
Dudley on the throne and Jane as Queen-Consort, he would veer round to
the Catholic party and re-establish papal supremacy in England.
The Emperor had sent the Sieurs de Courrières and Renard as Ambassadors
to our Court in the last year of Edward VI. Whether they were deceived
by Northumberland or were genuinely of the opinion that the chances of
Mary’s succession were very remote and that Jane’s party was infinitely
the strongest, we know not, but the Emperor, acting on their advice,
backed Northumberland for all he was worth up to the very day that he
was captured at Cambridge and conveyed a prisoner to London. Bearing
these facts in mind, the almost incredible story which we have just
related concerning Guildford’s attempt to secure the throne for himself
becomes intelligible.
On the other hand, Northumberland had apparently done nothing to obtain
favour for poor Jane’s own Envoys, sent to announce her accession to
the Courts of Paris and Vienna, for no sooner had those gentlemen
reached the cities in question than they were refused recognition and
turned back. The elder Dudley, selfishness incarnate, cared little for
the dignity of his daughter-in-law, if only his son might be proclaimed
King.
In the Museum at Hastings there is the impression of a hexagonal seal
which was to have figured on the State documents of “Queen Jane and
King Guildford Dudley.” Under an arched crown, between the initials
“G. D.” (Guildford Dudley)--a striking proof of the extent to which
his claims to the Crown were carried--are two escutcheons, one to
the left bearing the royal arms of England, lions and fleurs-de-lys,
and the other to the right, two animals, probably bears, grappling a
ragged staff, the arms of the Dudleys. Properly speaking, according to
heraldic rule, the royal arms should be on the right and the family
arms on the left. Doubtless the mistake was due to the haste with which
this seal was prepared. Under the escutcheons are the words “Ioanna
Reg,” and on either side the date 1553. The matrix of this seal seems
to have been lost; at least, its present whereabouts are unknown.
On the 11th of July the Council wrote afresh to the Commissioners (Hoby
and Morysone) telling them of the “signification of our sovereign
lord’s death,” and remarking that, “although the Lady Mary hath been
written unto from us (_i.e._ in answer to her letter of the 9th), yet
nevertheless we see her not so weigh the matter that if she might
she would disturb the state of this realm, having thereunto as yet
no manner apparent of help or comfort but only the connivance of a
few lords and base people: all others the nobility and gentlemen
remaining in their duties to our sovereign lady Queen Jane. And yet,
nevertheless, because the conditions of the baser sort of people is
understood to be unruly if they be not governed and kept in order,
therefore for the meeting with all events, the Duke of Northumberland’s
grace, accompanied with the Lord Marquis of Northampton, proceedeth
with a convenient power into the parts of Norfolk, to keep those
countries in stay and obedience, and because the Emperor’s ambassadors
here remaining shall on this matter of the policy not intermeddle, as
it is very likely they will and do dispose themselves, the Lord Cobham
and Sir John Mason repaireth to the same ambassadors, to give them
notice of the Lady Mary’s proceeding against the state of this realm,
and to put them in remembrance of the nature of their office, which
is not to meddle in these causes of policy,[234] neither directly nor
indirectly, and so to charge them to use themselves as they give no
occasion of unkindness to be ministered unto them, whereas we would be
most sorry, for the friendship, which on our part, we mean to conserve
and maintain. And for that grace the ambassadors here shall advertise
the others what is said to them.... The xi^{th} of July, 1553.”
This document was followed, next day, by an official letter to the
Commissioners, signed by Jane, and outlining what they were to say to
the Emperor as to the foreign policy to be pursued hereafter:--
“TRUSTY AND WELL-BELOVED,--We greet you well. It hath pleased
God of his providence, by the calling of our most dear cousin of
famous memory, King Edward the VI^{th}, out of this life, to our
very natural sorrow, that we both by our said cousin’s lawful
determination in his lifetime, with the assent of the nobility and
state of this our realm, and also as his lawful heir and successor
in the whole blood royal, are possessed of this our realm of
England and Ireland.”
Then comes a recommendation of the bearer of the letter, a Mr. Shelley;
the confirmation of Hoby’s appointment--“the whole number of our
ambassadors shall there remain to continue to dwell in the former
commission which ye had from our ancestor the King,” and an order
that Hoby shall make this clear to the Emperor, and assure him that
the friendship between England and the Emperor shall be continued as
hitherto.
Worry, anxiety, and annoyance soon brought on a relapse of the illness
from which Jane had lately suffered. Her pains at last grew so acute
that she again fancied the Duchess of Northumberland had poisoned her.
Possibly this illness accounts for our hearing so little of her doings
during the second, third, and fourth days of her short reign (11th,
12th, 13th of July). “Twice,” she writes, “was I poisoned, once in
the house of my mother-in-law,[235] and afterwards in the Tower; the
venom was so potent that all the skin came off my back.” This idea was
evidently only the result of the fever, which caused the skin to peel.
Trouble had so reduced the poor girl, no doubt, that she fell an easy
prey to the fevers so prevalent in and about the Tower, as long as the
moat remained uncovered.
On the 11th the Council received a letter from Mary, dated from
Kenninghall 9th July, stating she had heard of her brother the King’s
death, and was surprised that she had not known it sooner, and adding
her intention to cause her right and title to be published, and
proclaimed accordingly. The letter declared the Princess aware of the
Council’s desire to undo her claims, but added that she was willing
to grant pardon, and closed with an order to the Council to have her
proclaimed in the City of London and other places. The Council’s reply
was a masterpiece of “bluff.” It ran as follows:--
“MADAM,--We have received your letters (of) the 9th of this
instant, declaring your supposed title ... to the Imperial Crown
of this Realm, and all the dominions thereunto belonging. For
answer whereof, this is to advertise you, that for as much as our
Sovereign Lady, Queen Jane is after the death of our Sovereign
Lord Edward the 6th, ... invested and possessed with the just and
right title in the Imperial Crown of this Realm, not only by
good order of ancient laws of this Realm, but also by our late
Sovereign Lord’s letters-patent, signed with his own hand, and
sealed with the Great Seal of England, in presence of the most part
of the nobles, councillors, judges, with divers other grave and
sage personages, assenting and subscribing to the same. We must,
therefore, of most bound duty and allegiance assent unto her said
Grace, and to none other, except we should, which faithful subjects
cannot, fall into grievous and unspeakable enormities. Wherefore
we can no less do, but for the quiet both of the Realm and you
also, to advertise you, that forasmuch as the divorce made between
the King of famous memory, Henry VIII and the Lady Katherine,
your mother, was necessary to be had, both by the everlasting
laws of God, and also by the ecclesiastical laws, and by the
most part of the noble and learned universities of Christendom,
and confirmed also by the sundry acts of Parliament, remaining
yet in their force, and thereby you justly made illegitimate and
unheritable to the Crown Imperial of this Realm ... you will,
upon just consideration hereof, and of divers other causes lawful
to be alleged for the same, and for the just inheritance of the
right line and godly order, taken by the late King our Sovereign
Lord King Edward the VI, and agreed upon by the nobles and great
personages aforesaid, surcease by any pretence, to vex and molest
any of our Sovereign Lady Queen Jane her subjects, from their true
faith and allegiance unto Her Grace; assuring you, that if you will
... show yourself quiet and obedient, as you ought, you shall find
us all and several ready to do you any service that we with duty
may.... And thus we bid you most heartily well to fare.
“Your ladyship’s friends, showing yourself an obedient subject.”
This document was signed by the following members of the Council:
“Thomas Canterbury, the Marquis of Winchester, John Bedford, Will.
Northampton, Thomas Ely, Chancellor; Northumberland, Henry Suffolk,
Henry Arundel, Shrewsbury, Pembroke, Cobham, R. Rich, Huntingdon,
Darcy, Cheney, R. Cotton, John Gates, W. Peter, W. Cecill, John Cheeke,
John Mason, Edward North, R. Bowes.” Of all the signatories of this
letter, not more than four, if so many, remained true to Jane to the
last!
[Illustration: LADY JANE GREY, BY WYNGARDE
THE EARLIEST ENGRAVED PORTRAIT OF HER, FROM A PICTURE SAID TO BE BY
HOLBEIN, NOW LOST]
On 12th July, the second day after Jane’s entry into the Tower,
the Marquis of Winchester brought her unwilling Majesty a curious
collection of miscellaneous articles of jewellery, the contents of
sundry boxes and caskets, deposited at the Jewel House in the Tower,
and which had belonged to Henry’s six queens. Jane, despite her poor
health, was constrained to examine these things. The caskets contained,
amongst other articles, “A fish of gold, being a toothpick. One
dewberry of gold. A like pendant, having one great and three little
pearls. A newt of white silver” (that is to say, a silver ornament
wrought in the form of a lizard or eft). “A tablet of gold with a white
sapphire and a blue one, a balas ruby, and a pendant pearl. A tablet of
gold hung by a chain with St. John’s head, and flat pearls. A tablet
with our Lady of Pity, engraved on a blue stone. A pair of beads of
white porcelain, with eight gauds of gold, and a tassel of Venice
gold. Beads of gold with crymesy (crimson) work. Buttons of gold with
crimson work. Six purse hangers of siver and gilt” (these were to hang
purses or trinkets to the girdle, like the modern chatelaine). “Five
small agates with stars graven on them. Pearls in rounnels of gold
between pivots of pearls. Pipes of gold. A pair of bracelets of flaggon
chain (pattern), connecting jacinths of orange coloured amethysts.
Many buttons of gold worked with crimson, and in each button set six
pearls. Thirty turquoises of little worth. Thirteen table diamonds set
in collets of gold. An abiliment set with twelve table diamonds” (these
were the borderings of the caps like those of Anne Boleyn, or even of
the round hood which was the fashion that succeeded them). “Forty-three
damasked gold buttons, and a clock or watch set in damasked gold,
tablet fashion,” close the list,[236] but Winchester affirms that he
delivered to Jane, on 12th July, not only these, but the regalia[237]
and other jewels, together with a supply of cash, books, and even
clothes.
About this date, too, Lord Guildford Dudley was sent a quantity of
the Crown jewels, possibly as an earnest of his future dignity. They
certainly cost him dear!
A curious inventory exists at Hatfield, of stuffs delivered to “the
Lady Jane Grey, usurper, at the Tower by commandment over and above
sundry things already delivered to her by two several warrants.”
These goods were her own personal property, evidently left by her at
Westminster Palace on the occasion of some visit, of which no record
now exists. The stay in question must have occurred very shortly
before Edward’s death, and the things may have been forgotten in the
confusion attendant upon his last illness. The inventory is endorsed
by Sir Andrew Dudley and Sir Arthur Sturton, deceased, Keeper of the
Palace at Westminster, and was made, according to custom, on the day of
the King’s death, when seals were put on the doors of every apartment
in the royal palaces, not to be lifted till the King’s burial, after
which such articles as belonged to persons in waiting or servants were
delivered, after verification, to their various owners. The list of
goods and chattels belonging to Lady Jane is a very lengthy one, and we
will only make a few quotations, to give a glimpse of the contents of
her wardrobe and her minor possessions:--
“Item, a muffler of purple velvet, embroidered with pearls of
damask gold garnished with small stones of sundry sorts and tied
with white satin.
“Item, a muffler of sable skin with a head of gold with 4 clasps
set with five emeralds, four turquoises, six rubies, two diamonds
and five pearls, the four feet of the sable being of gold set with
turquoises and the head having a tongue made of a ruby.
“Item, a hat of purple velvet embroidered with many pearls.
“Item, a hat of black velvet laced with aglets (tags), enamelled,
with a brooch of gold.
“Item, a cap of black velvet, having a fine brooch with a square
table ruby with divers pictures enamelled in red, black and green.
“Item, eighteen buttons with rubies.
“Item, eighteen gold buttons.
“Item, a helmet of gold with a face, and a helmet upon its head and
an ostrich feather.
“Item, three pairs of garters having buckles and pendants of gold.
“Item, one shirt with collar and ruffles of gold.
“Item, three shirts--one of velvet, the other of black silk
embroidered with gold, the third of gold stitched with silver and
red silk.
“Item, a piece of sable skin.
“Item, two little images of wood, one of Edward VI, and the other
of Henry VIII.
“Item, a dog collar wrought with red work with gold bells.
“Item, a picture of Lady of Suffolk in a gold box.
“Item, a picture of Queen Katherine Parr that is lately deceased.”
This list also contained some articles which must have belonged to
Guildford, for it is not probable that Lady Jane ever possessed “a
sword grille of red silk and gold” or “a Turkey bow and a quiver of
Turkish arrows,” or “a white doublet and hose of silk and velvet.” The
number of clocks contained in this list is very remarkable:--
“One fair striking clock standing upon a mine of silver; the clock
being garnished with silver and gilt, having in the top a crystal,
and also garnished with divers counterfeit stones and pearls, the
garnishment of the same being broken, and lacking in sundry places.
“One alarum of silver enamelled, standing upon four balls.
“One round striking dial, set in crystal, garnished with metal gilt.
“One round hanging dial, with an alarum closed in crystal.
“One pillar, with a man having a device of astronomy in his hand,
and a sphere in the top, all being of metal gilt.
“One alarum of copper garnished with silver, enamelled with divers
colours having in the top a box of silver, standing upon a green
molehill a flower of silver, the same altar standing upon three
pomegranates of silver.
“One little striking clock, within a case of letten, book fashion,
engraven with a rose crowned, and _Dieu et Mon Droit_.”
The articles enumerated were brought to Lady Jane at the Tower,
during her imprisonment, after her brief reign was over, and having
ascertained their agreement with the Inventory, she signed that
document, which was returned, and came into the possession of Cecil,
and now lies, as we have said, among the State Papers at Hatfield. The
fact that the list contains a reference to articles evidently belonging
to Guildford Dudley points to his having accompanied Lady Jane to
Court, and shared his wife’s apartment. Probably the object of the
visit had been to bring Jane under the King’s immediate notice, and
influence him to name her in his will, as his chosen successor.
It had evidently been decided that the young Queen was not to tarry
long in the gloomy palace prison, for some of the documents drawn up
during the “nine days” have spaces left blank for the insertion of some
other royal residence. Besides, when Jane appointed her brother-in-law,
Lord Ambrose Dudley, to be her palace-keeper at Westminster, in lieu
of his uncle, Sir Andrew Dudley, one of his first wardrobe orders was
for twenty yards of purple velvet, twenty-five of Holland cloth, and
thirty-three of coarser lining to make her robes, “against her removal
from the Tower.”
On the night of 12th July, according to Machyn, “was carried to the
Tower iij carts full of all manner of ordnance, as great guns and
small, bows, bills, spears, mores-pikes, arnes [harness or armour],
arrows, gunpowder, and wetelle [victuals], money, tents, and all
manner of ordnance, gun-stones a great number, and a great number of
men of arms; and it had been for a great army toward Cambridge;”[238]
in other words, all these things were provided for the use of a great
army, to proceed to Cambridge. These warlike preparations were made
none too soon, for on the following morning, 13th July, news reached
the Tower that the rival Queen was at Kenninghall, on the borders of
Suffolk and Norfolk, and that the men of Norfolk, knights and squires
alike, were scurrying in their hundreds along the dusty lanes, to offer
Mary their lives and service. In brief, the guilty inmates of the
Tower, the would-be rulers of the realm, learnt to their consternation
that throughout the length and breadth of the kingdom the people
were against Queen Jane, and for Queen Mary. The Council was hastily
assembled, and it was at once decided that the Lords Robert Dudley
and Warwick were too young and inexperienced “for such difficulties
as these.” The first proposal was, that the Duke of Suffolk should
leave the Tower, and take command of the troops; but Queen Jane,
alarmed for her own safety, insisted she needed her father, and could
not do without him. His age and bad health were also factors in the
final decision that Northumberland would, after all, be the best man
to send.[239] The Duke left Her Majesty in charge of the Council, and
swore one of his big oaths that when he came back “Mary should no
longer be in England, for he would take care to drive her into France,
or----” He took a passionate leave of his son Guildford, holding him in
a long and tender embrace, pressing his head in his hands, and kissing
him again and again. Did it flash across the father’s mind that he
might never see his darling son again?
Northumberland ordered the troops he was to command, which were to be
raised by the various noblemen adhering to Jane’s party, to meet him
at Newmarket. He gave a sort of farewell dinner to the Council in the
Tower on the 13th, opening the banquet with a threatening speech to
his guests. “If you do not keep your oath, or if you turn traitor to
Jane,” said he, “God shall [will] not acquit you of the sacred and
holy oath of allegiance, made freely by you to this virtuous lady, the
Queen’s Highness, who by your and our enticement is rather of force
placed therein [_i.e._ “in the position of Queen”], than by her own
seeking and request. But if ye mean deceit, though not herewith but
hereafter, God will revenge the same. I can say no more.” This was
perhaps fortunate, for some of the assembled gentlemen certainly did
“mean deceit.” The Duke concluded by asking the Council to “wish him
no worse speed in his journey than they would have themselves.” One
of the members of that august body replied in the following terms: “My
Lord, if ye mistrust any of us in this matter [the forcing Jane to
become Queen], Your Grace is far deceived; for which of us can wipe
his hands clean thereof? And if we should shrink from you, as one
that is culpable [of having forced Jane to assume the crown], which
of us can excuse himself as guiltless? Therefore herein your doubt
is too far cast.” Northumberland was not offended by these ambiguous
remarks, and merely added, “I pray God it be so. Let us go to dinner.”
When this--as we should imagine--rather gloomy banquet was over,
Northumberland sent a messenger to Jane at the Tower, and received
by his hand his commission as “Lieutenant of the Army.” As he passed
through the Council Chamber on his way to Durham House for the night,
he encountered the Earl of Arundel, “who prayed God to be with His
Grace, saying he was sorry it was not his chance to go with him and
bear him company, in whose presence he could find in his heart to spend
his blood even at his feet; and, taking Thomas Lovel, the Duke’s boy,
by the hand, he added, ‘Farewell, gentle Thomas, with all my heart.’
Then the Duke, with the Lord Marquis of Northampton, the Lord Grey, and
divers others, took barge and went to Durham Place and to Whitehall,
where they mustered their men.”[240] Next morning, Friday, 14th July,
the Duke and his followers rode proudly forth,[241] with a train of
guns and a body of six hundred men, led by some of the greatest in
the land; such as Lord Edward Clinton, the Marquis of Northampton,
the Earls of Warwick, Huntingdon, and Westmoreland, the Lords Grey
de Wilton, Ambrose and Robert Dudley, Sir John Gates, and a score of
others, equally influential, the majority already tried in war. As
the glittering troop, armed with the motley collection of weapons
brought to the Tower two days before, passed through the city and along
Shoreditch, Northumberland noticed that, great as the crowd was, it
was sullen, no one greeting the troops and their leaders with anything
like enthusiasm. “The people,” he remarked surlily to Sir John Gates,
“press to see us, but no one bids us God speed.”
On the day her father-in-law left the Tower, only to return as a
condemned prisoner, the Lady Jane--whose occupations from the time
of her stormy interview with her mother-in-law up to this point are
nowhere recorded, except for her inspection of the Crown jewels--signed
a number of letters and documents of considerable importance. She wrote
to the Duke of Norfolk, for instance, demanding his allegiance and
commanding him to come to her Court as Earl Marshal, and confirming
his titles and honours if he proved loyal to her. The original of this
letter is in the possession of Mr. Wilson of Yorkshire. The body of
the document is in Northumberland’s hand, and must have been drafted
some days previously, but the signature is Jane’s. She next signed a
warrant for the appointment of Edward Baynard as Sheriff of Wiltshire
in lieu of our old friend, Sir William Sharington, “lately deceased.”
This curious and little-known document is in the possession of Mrs.
Alfred Morrison, and is exceedingly curious. The body of the text is
in the hand of a Secretary, but the name is in Lady Jane’s handwriting
and the signature is an autograph. Curiously enough, on 6th July Queen
Mary had made the same appointment: later, she issued a proclamation to
the effect that “no document, appointment, payment, or gift of land or
money made by Jane Dudley,[242] usurper,” should be considered valid;
but Baynard’s nomination, however, held good, as we find from the Pipe
Rolls of the County of Wiltshire for 1553. It is strange that Baynard
should have been appointed by both the rival Queens, though this may be
accounted for by the fact that he is said to have been a Wiltshire man
and popular in his neighbourhood.
Bad news reached London that evening, and before Queen Jane retired to
rest she knew her fortunes were in jeopardy and she herself rapidly
ceasing to be Queen, even in name. Presently a messenger informed the
Council that the men of Bucks, under Lord Windsor and Sir Edward
Hastings, were rising for Queen Mary. Still worse news flew Londonwards
on Saturday, the sixth day of Jane’s disastrous reign. Queen Mary had
been proclaimed at Framlingham and Norwich. Northumberland, perceiving
his weakness, had sent to London for fresh troops, and was himself
speeding as fast as horse could gallop towards Cambridge, which he
reached at midnight.
So complete and rapid was the collapse of Jane’s cause that even the
most carefully planned precautions taken in her interest ended by
serving her foes. Her partisans, for instance, fearing Mary might
escape by sea, had ordered six men-of-war to cruise off the east coast,
intercept her flight, and bring her back a prisoner. The weather
suddenly became so stormy that the vessels were driven into Yarmouth
Roads just as a body of men was being levied in that town for Mary’s
support. The sailors of the squadron, who had landed, bribed with money
and strong ale to abandon their ships and join the levy, handed over
their vessels to Sir Henry Jerningham, one of the staunchest supporters
of the Tudor Princess, who, being thus supplied by her enemies with
money, ammunition, and a train of artillery,[243] marched forthwith
against Northumberland, who was soon fain to fall back towards
Cambridge, where he fancied himself safe in Trinity College, with his
friends Drs. Sandys, and Parker, and Dr. Bill. As a matter of fact,
his enemies, declared and secret, were as numerous and formidable in
Cambridge as elsewhere; but during the momentary lull which ensued he
flattered himself with false hopes, and plied the Council with demands
for money and men, many of his followers having deserted him at Bury to
join the enemy. Yet all the time Cecil[244] was betraying him at every
point. Nothing can exceed the cunning and treachery he displayed--so
deep and cruel that one cannot but feel some pity for Northumberland,
notwithstanding his many crimes and faults. When Cecil was forced to
order his horsemen to take the field against Mary, he contrived to have
them ambushed and attacked, and thus rendered quite useless to the Duke
and harmless to his opponents. The Council informed Northumberland of
the miscarriage of Cecil’s men; but the letter fell into the hands
of Mary, who inquired of Roger Alford, Cecil’s confidential servant
in attendance on her, why her master, whom she evidently knew to be
playing traitor to Jane, had sent troops against her. Alford, so he
says, “being privy to the matter before (hand), laughed, and told her
[Mary] the matter,”--that Cecil had never intended his men should do
any harm to her cause, but had simply sent them as a “blind” to make
Northumberland think the Council was doing all in its power to send
him reinforcements, and thus spur him forward to his ruin. Under such
circumstances, the Duke’s position soon became desperate. “He would sit
moodily in his chair lost in thought, then starting up, would pace the
room, muttering to himself.”
Dr. Sandys and several of his friends in Cambridge asked him to sup
with them on the Saturday night, and spoke in a very friendly manner
about Lady Jane. He shook his head, rose from the table, and seated
himself in a vacant chair; remained there a long time in silence, and
in deep depression; and, when his entertainers bade him good-night,
took their hands in his, and begged them severally to pray for him,
“for he was in great distress.”
Sandys had been appointed to preach before the Duke on the following
morning (Sunday, 16th July). Before retiring to rest, the learned
Doctor, intending to choose a text, took up a Bible, which fell open
at the first chapter of Joshua, the verse that met his eye being,
“All that Thou commandest we will do, and wheresoever Thou sendest,
so will we go.” “Upon which text he preached the next day with such
discretion that he [Northumberland] got not such full advantage of him
as he had hoped.” On the Monday the Duke went with his men to Bury.
Their “feet marched forward, but their minds moved backwards”; in other
words, they were but a half-hearted set, and one by one they deserted
all through the day, hiding behind hedges and in ditches, till when
evening came, the Duke, heart-sore and heavy, rode back to Cambridge
almost alone, “with more sad thoughts than valiant soldiers about hym.”
Realising that all was lost, he bethought him of a dramatic, or rather
theatrical, trick to save himself. He conceived the idea that if he
went to London and fell at the Queen’s feet, she would welcome and
forgive him. Had she not pardoned many rebels? and was he worse than
any of these?
Presently, considerably cheered by his own but erroneous reflections,
he betook himself, accompanied by the Mayor and Dr. Sandys, to the
market cross, where the crowd greeted him in silence, “more believing
the grief in his eyes, when they let down tears, than the joy professed
by his hands, when he threw up his cap,” full of gold coins, into
their midst. This show of tardy loyalty--produced by the arrival of
the news of Mary’s growing power--having failed in its effect, Slegg,
the Sergeant-at-Arms, accused him of treason, and brought him back a
prisoner to King’s College.[245]
On the morning of the 21st of July, according to Machyn, the Earl of
Arundel, as treacherous a man as any in that nest of vipers, who, a
week before, had knelt before Northumberland and sworn to shed his
blood for him and for Queen Jane, came rapping at his door before he
was up. The Duke, huddling on a cloak, went out to him, and seeing him
look so threatening, fell on his knees, praying him to be good to him
and merciful. “For the love of God, my lord,” said he, “consider that I
have done nothing but by consent of the Council.” “My Lord Duke,” quoth
the Earl of Arundel, “I am hither sent by the Queen’s Majesty, and in
her name I arrest you.” Whereupon the Duke, rising, said, “I obey; but
I beseech you, my Lord Arundel, have mercy towards me, knowing the case
as it is.” “My good lord,” quoth the Earl, “you should have sought for
mercy sooner. I must do according to the commands that have been given
to me,” and upon this he took the Duke’s sword and committed him in
charge of the guard and other gentlemen that stood by. The miserable
Duke went to breakfast with not much appetite, looking as white as a
ghost and feeling most wretchedly ill. Towards evening, under an escort
of eight hundred men, he left Cambridge with Sir John Gates and Dr.
Sandys--both prisoners--still wearing his red cloak wrapped about him
and suffering agonies from gout in the feet. As night fell, it began
to rain; and down long country roads, under the lowering clouds, went
the weird procession of rough troopers on horseback, footmen with their
pikes, and in their midst the tall, gaunt, grim figure of the Duke, his
soaked and tattered red cloak clinging about his bent shoulders. He is
said to have spent the night in a barn, to be moved on to London the
next day, entering the city early in the morning, 25th July, just as
the shopkeepers were taking down their shutters. His plight must have
been pitiable, for in the streets men, recognising him, jeered at him
as a “Traitor,” threw mud on his red cloak and scowled at him, calling
him Somerset’s murderer, and so scaring him that he was almost thankful
to reach the Tower and its comparative safety. He had gone forth in
proud security, certain of success, sure he was about to punish his
enemies and reward his friends. He came back, cold and miserable,
knowing he had sacrificed his youngest son to his ambition; that the
fate of his other children and of the unhappy Jane hung in the balance;
and that the only friend left him in the world was his faithful wife,
who was at that moment on her knees to Queen Mary, pleading for mercy
and receiving none, her husband’s offence being deemed too great for
pardon. That night surely, in the solitude of his prison in the
Beauchamp Tower,[246] the Duke flung himself on his knees, and prayed
the long-neglected prayers of his childhood, the _Pater Noster_ that
was now said in English, and the _Ave Maria_ that had gone out of
fashion altogether!
Meanwhile, on Sunday the 16th (the seventh day of Queen Jane’s reign)
there was no rest throughout the whole length and breadth of England;
everywhere the people were rising for Queen Mary. In the streets of
the metropolis there was great cheering and rioting, even bloodshed.
Bonfires were lighted in the streets, and crowds of rough men and
loose women whirled round the lurid flames shouting, “Queen Mary!
Queen Mary!” In the churches, the claims of the rival Queens and rival
Creeds occupied the preachers. At Paul’s Cross, Bishop Ridley preached
against Queen Mary[247] and the Scarlet Woman, and in favour of Jane
and the Reformation. At St. Bartholomew’s, a Catholic priest told his
congregation to kneel down and thank God that the victory was with
Queen Mary; while at Amersham, in Buckinghamshire, John Knox thundered
forth in favour of Queen Jane--but all his eloquence, and that of her
other defenders, was in vain: the people would have Queen Mary, and
Queen Mary only. Late this Sunday night a curious incident occurred.
The Tower had been shut up for the night, when suddenly Jane, dreading
perhaps some unexpected rising, ordered the outer gates to be locked
and the keys carried up[248] to her chamber. Then the guards were
informed that one of the Royal Seals was missing; and Jane had the
lately closed gates unbarred, to send a body of Archers of the Guard
after the Marquis of Winchester, who had left the precincts about seven
o’clock for his house in Broad Street. They found him in bed, forced
him to rise and dress himself, and brought him back about midnight
to the Tower, where, it is said, he had to explain matters to Lady
Jane, who connected him with the loss of the Seal. The whole incident
is somewhat mysterious. Did the poor little Queen fancy Winchester
was contemplating some move like that of Somerset when he practically
assumed the Kingship at Hampton Court? Winchester undoubtedly bore
Jane no particular good-will, and the interview, if it occurred, was
probably somewhat stormy.
The eighth day of the reign, Monday the 17th, opened with a violent
scene in the early morning between the Duchesses of Northumberland
and Suffolk, who wrangled over Guildford and his Kingship. Poor Jane
was most miserable: her eyes were red with weeping, and she looked
more dead than alive as she endeavoured to calm her belligerent Grace
of Northumberland and reason with her own headstrong and domineering
parent. By this time everything and everybody in the Tower were at
sixes and sevens. No one seemed to know what to do or say. In the
midst of it all came bad news from the country, where the peasants,
notwithstanding the threats of their lords and masters, were refusing
to take arms against Mary. Trouble was drawing unpleasantly near.[249]
On the previous day (Sunday, 16th) some ten thousand of Mary’s
adherents, many of them county notables, had assembled at Lord Paget’s
house at Drayton, and marched to Westminster Palace, which they sacked
of its arms and ammunition, “for the better furnishing of themselves
in the defence of the Queen’s Majesty’s person and her title.” Paget,
whose house was this army’s headquarters, was at this time, be it
observed, amongst the party in the Tower and ostensibly loyal to Jane!
Meanwhile, the people, at one with that section of the nobles who would
have none of poor Jane, were shouting, in London and all over the land,
“God save Queen Mary!”--whilst poor Jane’s name was never heard except
to be scoffed at. The “nine days’ Queen” was now nothing but “a mock.”
On Tuesday (the 18th) it was patent that the drama--or rather,
tragi-comedy--was drawing to a close. Of all Queen Jane’s Council
only two men, Cranmer and her own father, remained true to her; and
the former left that afternoon for Lambeth and Croydon. Winchester,
Arundel, Pembroke, Paget, and Shrewsbury, to save their necks, had
by this time definitely decided to betray the cause of the girl whom
they had helped to put on the throne--and of these men, two, Arundel
and Pembroke, only nine days before, had knelt before her at Sion
House, protesting their loyalty and belief in her right to the crown!
This day, however, Jane signed an order to Sir John Brydges and Sir
Nicholas Poyntz that those officers should raise forces, “with the
same to repaire with all possible spead towardes Buckinghamshire, for
the repression and subdewing of certain tumultes and rebellions moved
there, against us and our Crowne by certain seditious men.” This order
is now to be seen in the British Museum, Harleian MSS, No. 416, f. 30.
On Wednesday, 19th July, the short reign ended--“Jane the Quene” became
“_Jana non Regina_.” Yet still there was a flicker of Queendom, for
that morning, information being received from the Lord Lieutenant of
Essex, Lord Rich, that the Earl of Oxford, who was then in Essex, had
thrown in his forces with Mary, Sir John Cheke, Queen Jane’s Secretary
of State, wrote a letter, to which the treacherous Lords of the Council
affixed their signatures, requiring Oxford “like a noble man to remain
in that promise and stedfastness to our sovereign Lady Queen Jane,
as ye shall find us ready and firm with all our force to maintain
the same: which neither with honour, nor with safety, nor yet with
duty, we may now forsake.” This morning, too, commenced the betrayal,
when Winchester, the Lord Treasurer, the Lord Privy Seal, Arundel,
Shrewsbury, Pembroke, Sir Thomas Cheney, Sir John Mason, and Sir John
Cheke waited on Suffolk, as the principal leader in Northumberland’s
absence, and desired leave to depart from the Tower so as to confer
with the French Ambassador about the foreign mercenaries[250] who were
to come over and aid Northumberland[251]--at that moment awaiting
arrest at Cambridge! Their zeal evidently touched Suffolk, who granted
them leave to depart. No sooner had they left the grim fortress behind
them than they proceeded straight to Baynard’s Castle,[252] where,
having sent for the Lord Mayor, they were presently joined by that
dignitary, with the Recorder and some of the Aldermen. The proceedings
of this improvised Council opened with an attack on Northumberland’s
ambition and scheming, delivered by Arundel,[253] and then Pembroke
drew his sword, and cried out, “If the arguments of my Lord Arundel do
not persuade you, this sword shall make Mary queen, or I will die in
her quarrel.” This speech was much applauded, and Mary’s proclamation
was signed by all present. The conspirators then had Mary publicly
proclaimed Queen at the Cross in Cheapside by four trumpeters and
two heralds in their gorgeous coats. This took place about five or
six in the evening--the very hour at which Jane’s accession had been
published nine days earlier! The proclamation in the Chepe concluded,
the Councillors proceeded to St. Paul’s for evensong and the singing
of the _Te Deum_, whilst Cecil,[254] Arundel, and Paget were sent to
pay the Council’s homage to Mary. Now that the people had absolutely
nothing to fear from the broken power of Jane, they gave wild vent to
their feelings. The bells of the city churches, swung with a right
good will, sounded a welcome to the coming reign; bonfires blazed in
every street. One of those attacks of spontaneous feverish enthusiasm
which seize nations from time to time, even in these prosaic days, took
hold of London. Tables were dragged into the thoroughfares, that all
might sit down and drink to the health of her Catholic Majesty. Money
was dispensed freely by the rich; and “the number of cappes that weare
throwne up at the proclamacion wear not to be tould.” Most enthusiastic
and excited of all was my Lord Pembroke, who filled and refilled his
cap with small coin to be scrambled for by the mob. He could afford to
be liberal: he knew Mary would reward him well for his share in her
proclamation. London was a very pandemonium that night. “For my tyme,”
says a contemporary news-letter,[255] “I never saw the lyke and by the
reporte of otheres the lyke was never seen.... I saw myself money was
thrown out at windows for joy. The bonefires were without number; and
what with shouting and crying of the people, and ringing of bells,[256]
there could no one man hear what another said; besides banketyng
[banqueting] and skipping the street for joy.”[257]
Archbishop Cranmer is said to have been the last of Jane’s Council,
then resident in the Tower, to leave it, which he did in the course
of 19th July, after a sad leave-taking with Lady Jane. His position
in the Janeite conspiracy has been severely criticised by more than
one historian, and by none more than by Lord Macaulay. He had been
instrumental in aiding Northumberland to overthrow Somerset, probably
because he disliked the latter’s Calvinistic tendencies, and regarded
him as a stumbling-block in the way of his proceedings for the
establishment of a more moderate and orthodox Church of England. After
the death of Somerset, the Archbishop became one of Northumberland’s
chief supporters, and, as Macaulay points out, covered himself with
lasting obloquy by his attempt to seduce an innocent girl into a
treasonable career which was to lead to her ruin. In her eyes he was
something more than a political Councillor--an Apostle of the Lord--and
his advice no doubt told with her above that of any one else. The next
time they met, Cranmer was a prisoner on his way to Guildhall,[258]
whither she too was tramping on foot to hear her doom, approved of by
most of the men who had been her chief Councillors, read out before the
multitude of Queen Mary’s friends and supporters.
There was little joy and much grief within the Tower. Presently a
messenger to Suffolk from Baynard’s Castle came to tell him that the
nobles there assembled required him to deliver up the Tower, and
proceed to the Castle to sign Mary’s proclamation. They also ordered
Lady Jane to resign the title of Queen. Instantly Suffolk abandoned
the unequal struggle; leaving the Lieutenant in charge of the Tower,
he went out, telling his men to leave their weapons behind them. He
himself announced Mary’s accession on Tower Hill, and then, going to
Baynard’s Castle, he signed her proclamation. This done, the wretched
man returned to the Tower to tell his daughter that her Queenship
was a thing of the past. Jane, meanwhile, having promised Edward
Underhill, the famous “Hot Gospeller,” then on duty in the Tower, that
she would act as godmother that day to his infant son, who was to be
christened Guildford, and being herself too ill to attend the baptism,
commissioned Lady Throckmorton to go in her stead. Lady Throckmorton
left the royal apartments and proceeded to St. John’s Chapel (some
say All Hallows’, Barking), leaving Jane surrounded by the insignia
of royalty--the cloth of estate, the throne, and all that marked her
position as Queen. When her ladyship returned, these had all been
removed; for _the_ Queen of England had not yet arrived in London,
and her subject, “Jane, the usurper,” no longer sat on the throne.
During the absence of Lady Throckmorton Suffolk had rushed back to his
daughter. He found her alone in the Council Chamber, seated, forlorn,
under her canopy of State. “Come down from that, my child,” said he;
“that is no place for you.” Then he gently told her all; and gladly
did poor Jane rise and quit her hateful office. For a moment father
and daughter stood weeping, locked in each other’s arms, in the centre
of the deserted hall, through the open windows of which, borne on the
summer air, came the exulting shouts of “Long live Queen Mary!”
Then, after a pause, Jane Grey spoke four simple words, sublime in
their pathos. “Can I go home?” she asked ingenuously. God help her!
what a world of innocence was in that little sentence, “Can I go home?”
Alack! alas! poor little victim of so much ambition and such damnable
intrigue, there is no more earthly home for thee!