Tales From the Tower of London (13 page)

Over the centuries hundreds of men and women have coveted the crown of England. Thousands more have died trying to seize or protect it for heirs and claimants, both rightful and otherwise. But in at least one instance a legitimate heir tried desperately to refuse the honour of becoming monarch but, much to her regret, allowed herself to be manipulated into accepting by a small clique of power-hungry men.

Henry VIII’s complicated matrimonial experiments left behind a string of claimants to the throne. Clearly, the first in line was Edward, son of Henry’s third wife, Jane Seymour. After Edward the claim became muddled as a result of Henry’s half-dozen marriages and four ugly divorces. According to Henry’s will the next in line was Mary, his eldest daughter by his first wife, Queen Catherine of Aragon, followed in line of succession by Elizabeth, offspring of the disgraced Anne Boleyn. While this might seem straightforward enough, King Henry had previously convinced his ministers to declare both Mary and Elizabeth bastards and, therefore, unable to succeed him. Thus the king had effectively reduced his own will to little more than a royal request.

When Henry died in 1547, Edward assumed the throne, but since he was only ten years old, he was given a ‘Protector’ to act as regent. The manipulative and ambitious John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, filled this position. In addition to shepherding the young king, Dudley was also Head of the Royal Council, making him the most powerful man in England next to the king; a king whose decisions were heavily influenced by Dudley.

Even as a child Edward showed ample evidence of his strong-willed Tudor blood and eventually he should have been able to outgrow the influence of Northumberland. But Edward had always been a sickly child. He had probably contracted tuberculosis before he ascended the throne and early in 1553 an attack of measles weakened his already frail health. By April of that year the king was coughing up blood, and contemporary accounts of his condition indicate that may also have been receiving doses of a slow-acting poison. Royal surgeons held out little hope for the boy’s recovery. Death was imminent.

Edward’s councillors panicked. If Edward died childless, the throne could still revert to Princess Mary – a devout Catholic – who would undoubtedly outlaw the new Church of England and the entire council would lose their power and quite possibly their heads. Edward had to make a will of his own and set out a new line of succession that protected England’s future. There is little question that the direction of the succession was engineered by Northumberland, but Edward was ultimately responsible for most of the wording of his will and the articles of succession, both of which were designed to protect the fledgling Church of England.

Edward knew that if his half-sister Mary were passed over in favour of the Protestant Elizabeth there would assuredly be legal, and possibly physical, challenges to the throne. It would be far better if both of them were denied the throne and another Protestant named to succeed him. Henry VIII’s precaution of having declared both Mary and Elizabeth illegitimate gave Edward a perfectly legal means of accomplishing this end. From the minutes of Edward’s Last Will and Testament comes the following: ‘Item the Second: Our said executors shall not suffer any piece of religion to be altered. And they shall diligently travail to cause Godly ecclesiastical laws to be made and set forth . . .’. Following this was Edward’s intent for the future of his sisters: ‘Fifthly, my will is, that my sisters Mary and Elizabeth shall . . . be bound to live in quiet order . . . and . . . that they . . . shall have our gift of one thousand pounds yearly.’ With that single sentence, King Edward VI pensioned off the two nearest claimants to the throne.

Now, a new monarch had to be selected. Outside Edward’s immediate family there were no less than eight legitimate claimants to the crown and all except one of them were women. No matter who Edward named the next ruler of England would most likely be the kingdom’s first female monarch. Immediately in line behind Henry VIII’s three children was Frances Grey, Duchess of Suffolk. Following her was her eldest daughter Jane. Certainly, unlike Edward’s sisters, the legitimacy of the wife and daughter of Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk were beyond question. It was to these two women that Edward left his throne. In his Devise for the Succession, Edward stated: ‘For lack of issue (male) of my body . . . to the Lady Frances’s heirs male, for lack of such issue (before my death) to the Lady Jane and her heirs male.’ In simple language, this meant that the throne would go first to Frances Grey and then, unless Frances gave birth to a son, to her daughter Jane. Twenty-four members of the council including the Protector, Northumberland and the Duke of Suffolk, Frances’ husband and Jane’s father witnessed this Devise.

It was at this point that the devious Northumberland implemented his master strategy. If he could arrange a marriage between Edward’s cousin Jane Grey and one of his own sons, when Jane inherited the throne her husband would undoubtedly be crowned king – because there was no precedent for a female ruler – and Northumberland could then rule through him. Jane’s parents zealously agreed to the proposed marriage, the Duchess of Suffolk even stepping aside from the line of succession in favour of her daughter. Whether Northumberland’s only unmarried son, Guildford Dudley, or Lady Jane Grey, were consulted in the matter of their marriage remains a mystery. It is certain that neither of them was aware of the new Articles of Succession.

By all accounts Jane Grey was an extraordinary young woman. In 1546 she had been sent to court at the age of nine under the wardship of Queen Katherine Parr, last wife of Henry VIII. Katherine was a warm, pious, loving surrogate parent to Jane, but died in childbirth (by her third husband) less than two years after taking charge of Jane. Now Jane’s wardship fell on the machiavellian John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland.

Despite the presence of Northumberland, Jane developed a mind of her own, probably out of self-defence. At the time her marriage was arranged in 1553, Jane was a tiny, delicate fifteen-year-old. Standing barely 5 feet tall, she had a startling mane of bright auburn hair and a pale, heavily freckled complexion. But it was her mind that really set Jane apart. She could read, write and speak Latin, Greek, French, Hebrew and Italian; she was also amazingly pious for a teenager and her most treasured possession was a copy of the New Testament in Greek.

While the years had taught Jane to fear and hate her guardian Northumberland, she was barely acquainted with the fourth of his five sons, Guildford. But bending to what she called ‘the urgency of my mother and the violence of my father’ she agreed to marry this twenty-year-old stranger. With Edward nearing death, the wedding had to be arranged as soon as possible. There was no time to have the elaborate wedding clothes made, so they were borrowed from the Master of the Royal Wardrobe. On 25 May 1553 Jane Grey and Guildford Dudley wed at the London home of the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland. On the same day Jane’s younger sister Mary was married to Lord Herbert and Guildford Dudley’s sister Catherine was married to the young Earl of Huntingdon. In one bold move, the Northumberlands had intermarried their family with nearly everyone of importance in the kingdom.

Almost six weeks to the day after the triple wedding, sixteen-year-old King Edward VI died at Greenwich, but no public announcement was made of his passing. There were too many preparations to be made and precautions to be taken. Immediately on Edward’s death, Northumberland ordered the Tower brought to a full state of defence in the name of Queen Jane, and sent his son Lord Robert Dudley with a troop of cavalry to take Princess Mary prisoner. Mary had been kept more than 20 miles outside London and under heavy confinement throughout Edward’s five-year reign but somehow, before Robert Dudley and his troops got to her, she had learned of her brother’s death and escaped into the Suffolk countryside to begin rallying her own forces. It was not an auspicious beginning to the new reign.

On Sunday 9 July, Jane’s sister Mary arrived by barge at Jane and Guildford Dudley’s house. Here, Mary told Jane that she was ordered to come at once to their parents’ home, Sion House, where there was important news from the king. Although Jane had been ill for several days and was running a fever, she agreed, and the two returned by barge to Sion. When they arrived at the Suffolks’ home, the great hall was empty, but almost immediately members of the family and the council began filtering in. According to Jane’s diary, they ‘began to make me complimentary speeches, bending the[ir] knee . . . all of which made me blush. . . . My distress was still further increased when . . . my mother-in-law entered and paid me homage.’ Jane’s embarrassment and confusion were heightened when Lords Pembroke and Huntington entered the room, knelt and kissed her hand; ‘with unwonted caresses they did me reverence as was not at all suitable to my state’. Obviously, Jane knew something was very wrong, but she was not kept guessing for long.

Within minutes, Jane’s father-in-law, Northumberland, entered the hall and announced to Jane what everyone else in the room already knew. The king was dead and Jane Grey was to succeed him. When the announcement was over, the assembled company knelt before Jane, stating, according to Jane’s diary, ‘that they . . . swore to shed their blood and give their lives to maintain the same’. Already weak from fever, Jane collapsed and fainted. In her own words, ‘On hearing this I remained stunned and out of myself and I call on those present to bear witness who saw me fall to the ground weeping piteously and dolefully lamenting the death of the king, I swooned and lay as dead.’

When she was roused, Jane insisted, ‘The crown is not my right and pleaseth me not.’ But once again, out of loyalty to her parents, she allowed herself to be persuaded that it was her duty to her family and the kingdom to take the throne. Finally, she agreed and addressed herself not to those in the room, but to God, ‘if what hath been given me is lawfully mine, may I . . . govern to Thy glory and service, and to the advantage of the realm.’ Later, Jane would write, ‘It did not become me to accept . . . [it showed] a lack of prudence’.

The following day, Monday 10 July, at around three in the afternoon, Jane, her husband, family and in-laws, travelled by barge from Sion House to London where the new queen could be kept safely behind the ancient walls of the Tower. For the official procession into the Tower, Jane was dressed in the splendour befitting her new station in life. Her brocaded gown was heavily decorated with seed pearls and the bodice beneath it was bright green, embroidered with gold. Behind her, the train of her gown was borne by her mother and at her side was Guildford who, reportedly, was ‘showing her much attention’. To make Jane’s diminutive figure visible to the crowds that had gathered, over her shoes she wore a pair of wooden clogs with soles 3 inches thick. A merchant from Genoa who witnessed the scene described her as ‘graceful and well made, and when she smiles she shows her teeth. . . . In all she is a charming person
graziosa e animata
’ (graceful and lively).

At the gates of the Tower Jane was greeted by the Marquis of Winchester, the Lord Chancellor, and Sir John Bridges, the Lieutenant of the Tower, who knelt to present her with the keys to the ancient fortress. But before Jane could step forward to accept, her father-in-law intervened, taking the keys and handing them to Jane. It was clear that from now on, all power, even the symbolic power of the Tower keys, would pass through Northumberland’s hands before being transferred to the new monarch.

As Queen Jane stepped into the Tower a herald proclaimed her, ‘Jane, by the Grace of God, Queen of England, France and Ireland, Defender of the Faith and Church of England and Ireland, under Christ on Earth, the Supreme Head’. It was far too heavy a burden to lay on an unprepared fifteen-year-old, and far too delicate a responsibility to slip into the hands of Northumberland.

The following day, Tuesday, the Lord High Treasurer brought the crown to Jane to check its fit and make arrangements for any necessary adjustments. At first, Jane refused, insisting that she had not asked to see the regalia. She was told, ‘You must take it . . . and soon I will have another made to crown your husband with.’ To the Lord Treasurer the phrase had been completely innocent, but to Jane it revealed the extent of Northumberland’s entire ugly plot. This wasn’t about her and never had been. The plan was to make Guildford Dudley king; she was nothing but a pawn in a massive game of power politics. Was Guildford a part of the plot? Were her parents? Understandably, Jane was furious. She called her council and confronted them with what she knew and what she suspected. Then she informed them that under no circumstances would she allow Guildford Dudley to become king. Her parents were beside themselves and her in-laws were fuming, but Jane stood her ground.

That same evening, word came to the tower that Princess Mary still eluded capture and was now asserting her right to the crown, demanding that Jane relinquish the throne immediately. The council responded by formally rejecting Mary’s claims and asserting the rights of ‘our Sovereign lady Queen Jane’. But if the councillors feared Mary and her religion, they also hated the scheming, power-hungry Northumberland, and their support for Jane was largely a matter of political expediency. For their own protection as much as Jane’s, the council demanded that Jane’s father, the Duke of Suffolk, lead an army to capture Mary and defeat whatever forces she might have assembled. Jane refused. Her father would remain at the Tower to protect her; Northumberland would lead the hunt for Mary. Little could Jane have known that the populace of England hated her father-in-law as much as she did. Four days later, on Saturday the 15th, Northumberland and his army set out to suppress the Marian rebellion, heading north towards Cambridge, Mary’s last known location.

With the coercive influence of Northumberland now absent from court, the ministerial will to oppose Mary began to falter, a matter not helped when word arrived on Sunday that Mary was openly being proclaimed queen in towns and cities throughout the south and common people everywhere were refusing to take up arms against her. In truth, popular support for Mary was not as strong as it was made to seem. Most people were aware of the possibility of religious upheaval if she took the throne, but she was Henry VIII’s rightful heir and that alone brought her a lot of support.