My Story: Lady Jane Grey (My Royal Story) (2 page)

I have something very important to write in my journal today. The old king has died – and my cousin Edward is now king. I am sure he will be a very good one. He is being brought up a Protestant like me. Protestants do not believe like Catholics that you need the Pope or priests to explain God’s word. And we don’t believe in purgatory, or confessing your sins to a priest, or paying money to go to heaven. Catholics even think that the bread and wine you take at communion is actually the body and blood of Christ (ugh!).

King Henry is to be buried at Windsor. Father – who is Marquess of Dorset – will be very busy arranging the funeral and Edward’s coronation too.

Edward will have to go to the Tower soon. That is the palace in London where all new monarchs begin their reign. If I were queen I would change that ancient law. The Tower of London is a horrible place, a fortress and prison as well as a royal palace. I would hate to spend a single night inside its walls even if I was queen. Terrible things happen in the Tower. People have their heads cut off or are tortured and left to rot in its dungeons. Edward will stay in the royal apartments, of course. They will be richly furnished, the walls hung with tapestries and sweet herbs strewn among the rushes to make the chambers smell sweet. And as soon as King Henry is buried all the black drapes that are put up when a monarch dies will be taken down and the city made ready for Edward’s coronation. I feel sorry for my cousin though. Who would want to be king? I cannot think of anything I would like less. My sister Katherine cannot understand why. She is not at all like me. She would like to go to Court and wear a new gown every day.

I am writing lying on my bed. My nurse Mistress Ellen sits sewing by the window, my gowns heaped around her. She is in a mighty pother! My parents have summoned me to London and she says I have nothing fit to wear. One gown is stained, another is too short and I am bursting out of a third. I do not know why they have sent for me. Sir John Harington rode up yesterday, bringing a letter from Father, but all I have been told is that my parents have important news for me. We are to leave as soon as I can be got ready. Sir John will escort me to London. He is a gentleman in the service of Father’s friend, Sir Thomas Seymour.

I wish I did not have to go. Every time I think about it, my stomach ties itself in knots. Nurse says that I am a lucky girl. “You will see the King’s coronation procession,” she told me. “What girl does not want to see a young king crowned? And he is your cousin too!” She smiled. “I saw your great-uncle King Henry crowned when I was not much older than you.” She sighed. “He was so handsome. All the girls were in love with him.” In spite of myself I giggled. How could anyone have been in love with King Henry. He was so fat!

I have a pile of books by my bed. Nurse says we will never fit them all in, but I said she must try. I love my nurse dearly, but she doesn’t understand how important my books are to me. They are like my best friends. I am happiest of all when I am left in peace with them.

Katherine would like to go. I wish she could – I wish she could go instead of me. I have promised to write and tell her all about it.

I do not know what the hour is or how long I have been sitting here, my feet tucked under me for warmth. I cannot sleep. My candle has burned down nearly to a stub, but the moon throws a pool of light into the room so I can see well enough to write. My nurse sleeps soundly. I envy her. She has no fears about what the morning will bring. I have lost count how many nights it is since we left Bradgate. Tonight is our last night on the road. Tomorrow we reach Westminster. I had rather not think about that so will try to distract myself by writing about our journey. We are staying at an inn. Our arrival caused much excitement. People came out to gawp at us – people always do I’ve noticed. They stare at my fine clothes, and the carts packed with chests and boxes. The innkeeper was summoned and was in such a fluster when he learnt who we were that his foot slipped on a frozen puddle and down he went causing much merriment among the onlookers. He didn’t find it funny and boxed the ears of the poor stable hand who ran up to tend to our horses. His wife escorted us to our chambers and we were brought small beer and a platter of cold meats. But I felt too tired and nervous
to eat much. One of my women slid a pan into the bed to warm the sheets and I knelt by it to say my prayers – at least I said the words but they did not mean anything. I can only pray that God understands! And that no harm befalls me this night. If only I could forget that tomorrow I will be home in London.

I found a big bite on my leg this morning and am trying not to scratch it. There were bugs in my bed at the inn. But I would rather sleep in a bug-ridden bed than amongst the softest cleanest sheets at home.

We arrived home by nightfall yesterday. The time flew – I felt as if I had barely been lifted back into the saddle before I heard Sir John’s hearty voice say “London” and saw him lift his whip to point out the spire of St Paul’s church. It was not far enough away for my liking and I turned away my face. With each clatter of the horses’ hoofs we were drawing nearer and nearer to my parents’ house where I would find out why they had summoned me. We reached London just as the bells rang out, warning us that the gates were shutting for the night. My parents’ house, Dorset Place, is a little way outside the city, on a street called the Strand, which runs between London and Westminster. It was dark as we rode down it and Sir John hired a link boy to light our way.

I was almost asleep by the time we rode into the courtyard.
I felt Sir John’s big hands grasp my waist to lift me down. I was stiff and sore from sitting so long in the saddle. I clung to Nurse’s hand as the big door opened, and my parents stepped forward to greet me. I stood as straight as I could as my mother’s eye travelled over me. Was my hair tucked tidily into
my coif? Was the hem of my gown dirty? I curtsied to her and
to my father – who seemed quite pleased to see me. But I still do not know why they sent for me. And I will learn nothing more
this night. After inquiring of our journey, Sir John and my father
went into a huddle in one corner – and I upstairs to bed.

Now I know why my parents sent for me. I am to leave home. I am to be Sir Thomas Seymour’s ward and live in his household. I am not a child any more, they said. I must learn to be a young lady now – and a royal one too. (They never let me forget that my mother is the daughter of King Henry’s younger sister.) I am not sorry to leave home. I like Sir Thomas. He is jolly and kind and I am sure will not hit me as often as they do.

I knew he had come when I heard a loud laugh in the hall. Father and Sir Thomas are great friends.

“God’s soul, but she is very small,” I heard him murmur to Father. People
always
say that about me. “Pray, how old is she?”

“She is not yet ten – but very advanced for her age,” said Father.

“Forward,” muttered my mother. “Jane, curtsy to Sir Thomas. Where are your manners?”

I bent to curtsy when – oh horrors! – my foot caught in the hem of my gown and I toppled forwards. Sir Thomas reached out his arm to catch me. As he righted me my father grunted. My mother said nothing, but they both looked so disappointed in me that I felt tears start to my eyes. I felt sure that they would punish me – and I was right.

There is an ugly red mark on my ear now – and it still rings. Mother said it hurt them to hurt me. She
always
says that, but I do not believe her.

My parents have grand plans for me. They want me to marry the King. Me – Jane Grey – to be queen? I love my cousin Edward dearly, but I would hate to be queen. But that it seems
is why I am being sent to live in Sir Thomas’s house as his ward. He is to bring it about. Mother says he is full of idle promises.

“Would I send her away if I did not think it would be for her good?” I heard Father protest. I felt my heart thump and crept up to the door to listen. I knew that they were talking about me.

“Hush, do you want the whole house to hear!” Mother exclaimed. “Do you truly think he has the power to marry our daughter to the King? No, he has made the better bargain. But you never listen to me.”

“I always listen to you, my love,” Father sighed. Mother made some bitter retort and I crept hastily away. I hate it when they argue. Sir Thomas is the King’s favourite uncle. So maybe Edward will listen to what he says. But I hope Mother is right and he cannot arrange this match. I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want to marry anyone. But I will have to do what my parents want.

I have laid aside my book now. “What a child you are for books!” Nurse exclaimed when she saw my nose stuck in one. “How can you read while the city prepares for the coronation? Come – put it away. Do you not want to watch? Your father will carry a sword in the procession. He is Constable of England, or had you forgotten?”

All along the Strand banners dance in the breeze. Hammers have been banging since daybreak as fine cloths and tapestries are nailed to the walls. Nurse says that they are being hung all along the route the coronation procession will take. Cloth of gold hangs from our house. I went down to see it put up earlier.

The black mourning drapes were taken down as soon as King Henry had been buried at Windsor. I heard a disgusting story about that. In the midst of the funeral the coffin burst open and stuff leaked out. That must have given the mourners a fright. Father was Chief Mourner so he would know if it is true but even if I dared ask him I cannot. For I am living at Seymour Place now. I was brought here yesterday. I came by the river and was sick over the side of the barge. (I am often sick on the water.) At least I can write that Father seemed sorry to see me go. Nurse says that Mother is too, but I do not believe her. Before I left I heard her tell Sir Thomas that he was to monish me as a good father should. I am not to be given too much meat either. I heard that too – as I am sure I was meant to. But I am given plenty meat and have not been punished once. Ha!

One of Lady Seymour’s women is very proud. Her son Jack is to sing before the King! She cannot stop talking about it.

Father has been invested as a Knight of the Garter. Nurse says it is a great honour, and while she helped me dress I amused myself wondering who I would honour if I were queen. Edward has made the Lord Protector Duke of Somerset. I suppose he needed to be made a duke as he rules the kingdom for the King – or so everyone says. (I keep my ears about me.) That does not please Sir Thomas, who is only made a baron – Lord Sudeley. (The two brothers hate each other, I have heard. It is sad, if it is true.) But with the title comes a beautiful castle in Gloucestershire, though Sir Thomas grumbles that it is not fit to live in. And he has been made Lord Admiral, which does please him. It suits him, too. I can well imagine Sir Thomas on deck, commanding a fleet of ships. His salty oaths and big-hearted cheerfulness bring a breath of fresh cheer into every room he enters. He has a kind word for everyone. Even his servants love him. Oh, I nearly forgot. John Dudley, Viscount Lisle, is made Earl of Warwick.

What a day this has been – a day like none other I have known. I feel tired, but happy. I wonder how Edward feels tonight? Today he rode all the way from the Tower to Westminster. But tomorrow, he will be crowned king! I won’t see the crown put on Edward’s head. But the Admiral has promised to tell me about it.

I am scribbling down everything I can remember before I forget so I can tell my sister Katherine. She will not be pleased that I have already forgotten what the ladies wore. I do not care about fine clothes as much as she does.

We are nearly a mile from the Tower, where the procession began, so we had a long wait before we saw anything. I was found a seat by the window in a small room at the back of the house, which overlooks the street.

I was lucky to have a place at a window. If I had been down in the street I would not have been able to see anything at all. Nurse told me that people were lining it long before daybreak. Railings had been put up to protect people from the horses. But so many people were trying to squeeze in behind them that Nurse says it will be a wonder if no one was crushed.

Sir Thomas let his servants watch. “It is a very important day,” he said. “I would that everyone will mark it.” His mother Lady Seymour is stricter, but I saw two of her maids creep up to the attics to look out of the upper windows.

When the guns thundered from the Tower, I felt little shivers run up and down my spine. The King was on his way! But he took such a long time to arrive that I grew bored, and slipped down from my seat. Just as I did, a harsh blare from the trumpets sent me scuttling back again. Down below people began to cheer and toss their caps in the air as the procession wound its way slowly into the street.

The glory of it quite dazzled me. Even at Court I have never seen a sight like it. Sun shone on the guards’ breastplates and glinted on their pikes. I caught a glimpse of Father, marching amongst the noblemen. But it was Edward who I really wanted to see. My eyes searched for him anxiously. I was afraid he’d pass by before I saw him. Then Nurse pointed out a scarlet and gold caparisoned horse and there on top I saw my cousin, in silver and gold, his white velvet cap sparkling with diamonds, rubies and true loves of pearls. Knights were trying to hold a canopy over his head, but he rode just ahead of it so that his people could see him. That is just like my kind cousin. He knows that it was he who people had come to see. Ahead of him rode the Lord Protector. He held his head high and looked very proud. He is not at all like his brother. People say that he is the real ruler of the country and likes his own way. On the King’s right side I recognized the dark head of John Dudley, Earl of Warwick. Father says that he is clever and ambitious – and seeks the King’s ear. And I saw how often his face turned to the King. Suddenly I felt a chill as if a shadow had fallen and blotted out the sunshine. My cousin looked so small and the noblemen surrounding him so big. I felt afraid for him. Until he comes of age, it is they who have the true power.