The Tudor Throne (21 page)
Authors: Brandy Purdy
21
Mary
“W
e ride for Kenninghall!” I called back to my entourage, now less by one, as I sent one of the men galloping back to Hunsdon with a brief note to my steward, telling him what had occurred, and to muster the rest of my people, and all the loyal folks thereabout who would follow their true queen, and come straightaway to Kenninghall, my well-fortified manor in Norfolk, more like a moated castle-keep than a house, as fast as they could.
e ride for Kenninghall!” I called back to my entourage, now less by one, as I sent one of the men galloping back to Hunsdon with a brief note to my steward, telling him what had occurred, and to muster the rest of my people, and all the loyal folks thereabout who would follow their true queen, and come straightaway to Kenninghall, my well-fortified manor in Norfolk, more like a moated castle-keep than a house, as fast as they could.
I
must
fight for my throne! When I sent little Jane Grey a ruby necklace to wear on her wedding day—a wedding I received no invitation to attend despite my beautiful and costly gift and kindness in overlooking the dress incident—I never realized that a conspiracy directed against me was unfolding. Even as Jane was sulking at the altar in a gown that was an exact replica of the one I had given her that she had destroyed—as an apology to me, her mother had asked my dressmaker to recreate it for Jane’s wedding gown—and tugging at the ruby necklace I sent, ungraciously complaining that it cut her throat, Northumberland was already moving to cement his place as the power behind the throne by persuading a dying boy, for the good of England and the Protestant religion, to alter our father’s will and name our cousin Jane as his successor. And by marrying his spoiled brat of a son, Guildford, to her, Northumberland’s position of power was solidified.
must
fight for my throne! When I sent little Jane Grey a ruby necklace to wear on her wedding day—a wedding I received no invitation to attend despite my beautiful and costly gift and kindness in overlooking the dress incident—I never realized that a conspiracy directed against me was unfolding. Even as Jane was sulking at the altar in a gown that was an exact replica of the one I had given her that she had destroyed—as an apology to me, her mother had asked my dressmaker to recreate it for Jane’s wedding gown—and tugging at the ruby necklace I sent, ungraciously complaining that it cut her throat, Northumberland was already moving to cement his place as the power behind the throne by persuading a dying boy, for the good of England and the Protestant religion, to alter our father’s will and name our cousin Jane as his successor. And by marrying his spoiled brat of a son, Guildford, to her, Northumberland’s position of power was solidified.
When the horses were foaming at the mouths and we were so weary we feared the need for sleep would pull us from our saddles, we stopped to rest at Sawston Hall, the home of Sir John Huddlestone, a devoutly Catholic country gentleman.
He and his wife welcomed me warmly despite the lateness of the hour. I was taken at once to the best bedchamber. A model of efficiency, Lady Huddlestone ordered the fire lit and plates of meat, cheese, and bread, bowls of stew, and cups of ale brought in for Susan and me. Fresh sheets were put onto the bed and it was turned down in readiness for me, and a trundle bed was pulled out from underneath for Susan. Servants carried in a tub and pails of steaming water to fill it so that I might wash away the dust of the road, and Lady Huddlestone’s maid even sprinkled dried flower petals into it. And since I had no spare clothing with me, Lady Huddlestone gave me one of her nightgowns and took away my dust-caked and sweat-stained clothes and went to roust her best laundress out of bed to see that my clothes were ready by morning. When I thanked her, Lady Huddlestone knelt at my feet and kissed my hand. “My life and my home and all I possess are at Your Majesty’s service,” she solemnly declared. It felt so good to be so honored, to know that I was capable of inspiring such devotion.
We were roused from a deep exhausted sleep a few hours later by shouting and pounding on the front door. In my borrowed nightgown I stepped out onto the landing only to discover that some zealous Protestants from nearby Cambridge were on the march, having learned of my whereabouts, and the great golden bounty Northumberland had placed upon my head, for my capture, dead or alive.
“Madame, for your safety, you must leave at once!” Sir John said anxiously.
I nodded, and turned to go, tarrying only long enough to ask for my clothes to be sent, clean or not, back upstairs so I could dress, when Sir John stopped me.
“If I might presume to suggest it, I think Your Majesty would fare much better if you traveled in disguise.”
“Yes!” I fervently agreed, my eyes darting about until they fell on a serving woman downstairs. “You!” I pointed down at her. “Come up here now! Make haste! I want your clothes!” And without waiting to see if she followed, I turned and went back into my bedchamber.
All modesty forsaken, as soon as she shut the door behind her, I tore off my nightgown.
“Well? Don’t stand there gaping, girl! Give me your dress!”
When she just stood there, staring and blinking, her mouth hanging open, Susan gave an irritated sigh and went and lifted off her linen cap and untied her stained and patched apron and set them aside, then took her rough brown homespun gown by its hem and yanked it up and off over her head and helped me into it, with an apology for there being “no petticoats, M’am. I would gladly give you mine,” she continued as she briskly put up my hair and covered it with the coarse linen cap and knotted the apron about my waist with its frayed, dingy strings, “but I fear it would give the charade away as it is longer than this girl’s dress and would show, and it is also of a quality beyond her station.”
“Shoes!” I cried suddenly, gazing down at my bare feet then over at my fine Spanish leather boots sitting by the fire. No serving girl would possess their like, at least not if she had come by them honestly. If I put them on, even though they were my own, I risked drawing attention to myself and perhaps even being detained as a thief.
“Off with them, girl!” Susan pointed at the crude and clunky wooden clogs the now nude but still dumbstruck maid was wearing on her dirty bare feet.
I winced as I stepped into them. I had never worn anything like them, and feared both blisters and splinters, but, for my throne, I would stoically endure this hardship.
“Follow at first light with the others,” I quickly told Susan as I headed for the door, “to Kenninghall, as planned.”
“A moment, M’am!” Susan stayed me as she ran to the hearth and scooped up some ashes. “You have just had a bath, M’am, and no serving girl in clothes such as these would be so clean of person. May I?” And at my nod she gently but swiftly rubbed her hands over my face and hands. “There!” She nodded approvingly. “Go with God, M’am!”
I hugged her quickly and kissed her cheek. “God keep you in his care, my faithful Susan!”
And I flew down the stairs in those cumbersome, clunky clogs and out into the darkened courtyard where Sir John himself and one of his men waited with fresh horses.
I paused uncertainly, seeing that there were only two horses. Then a third man came forward and took me off guard by suddenly boosting me up into the saddle behind Sir John.
“Hold tight, Your Majesty!” he said, before I had time to properly arrange my skirts, and I hastily wrapped my arms around his waist as he spurred his mount onward and tore out of the courtyard at a thundering fast gallop.
We rode hard for I know not how long. As we crested a hill, the horses were lathered in sweat and foaming white at their mouths, so we stopped to rest. Looking back, I spied a blaze. I hesitated, being so shortsighted, I wasn’t sure, but the groom raised the alarm with a despairing wail. “Oh, Master, your house! It’s Sawston Hall that is a-burning!”
I saw proud Sir John’s face fall and his shoulders wilt. He looked near to tears. Clearly he was torn between going back and staying with me.
“My friend, you have served me well. I swear to you that when I am proclaimed queen of this realm I shall build you a finer house than the one you have lost. Go now, and see to the safety of your family, and, if you will, leave your man with me.”
“Your Majesty! Thank you and may God preserve you!” Sir John bowed over my hand and kissed it fervently before he flung himself back into the saddle and galloped back down the hill in the direction we had just come.
The groom, whose name I learned was Daniel, doffed his cap and respectfully addressed me. “We’d best be off, Your Majesty, before they catch us up; not meaning to alarm you, Your Majesty, but they’re not that far behind.”
“Let us go then.” I nodded, and riding behind him, holding tight to his waist, we took the road to Kenninghall, the horse’s hooves loud as thunder in the quiet night as they struck the hard-packed dirt road, stirring up clouds of billowing dust that stung my eyes and made me want to cough and sneeze.
Holding tight to Daniel’s waist, I leaned my throbbing, aching forehead against his strong back and shut my eyes and tried to ignore the rough cloth of my borrowed skirt chafing my thighs, rubbing them raw, and the feel of the breeze upon my buttocks as my skirt billowed out behind me, constantly reminding me that I was quite naked underneath; it was the first time in my life I had gone without a shift, petticoats, and stays. I had given up trying to tuck the coarse skirt under me, for as I bounced up and down with the motion of the horse it always came untucked, so I tried to ignore it and think of something else instead, and found myself remembering the last time I had worn servants’ garb. . . .
I was seventeen and forced to serve at Hatfield as Elizabeth’s nurse. I was in disgrace. Because of his feud with my proud mother, who would not bow to his will and let herself be divorced, and because the Great Whore despised me, whenever Father came to visit Elizabeth, to dandle her upon his knee, pet her, give her gifts, and listen to her baby prattle, I was locked away lest I try to see him and throw myself upon his mercy. But there came a day, when Anne Boleyn was losing ground, and someone forgot to lock the door; whether it was intentional or not I cannot say. I had to see Father again; I had to remind him of my love, and my existence. I knew if I tried to go downstairs to the nursery I would be stopped, taken back by force and locked in, so I must forgo a face-to-face encounter.
Instead, I gathered up my skirts and ran to the door leading up to the roof. Up and up, despite the pinch of my stays beneath my drab and worn servant’s gown and nursemaid’s apron. My weakened condition made me pause at times, feeling light-headed and faint, to gasp for air, with my heart beating far too fast, and a throbbing, drumming in my head and ears, and pearls of sweat adorning my brow. I feared my body would fail me and I would collapse and die there upon those dark and winding stairs. But I didn’t give up. On and on I ran, up and up and round and round the winding, twisting, dizzyingly steep stairs of the tower turret, barely able to see my hand before my face in the dim light of the far-spaced pitch-tipped torches bracketed to the stone wall.
And then—it was like a miracle!—I reached the top and burst out into the fresh blustery air of daylight, onto the roof overlooking the courtyard. I was almost too late. Father was just about to swing himself up into the saddle of his great white horse.
Desperate to attract his attention, I snatched off my cap and raked the pins from my hair. With my fingers, I combed my long, faded and thinning tresses out, trusting the distance to work on my behalf and keep any from spying the skeins of gray, and, with the wind whipping my hair wildly around my head, I frantically waved my white linen cap in the air, hoping to attract Father’s attention.
Below me in the courtyard a number of courtiers and attendants noticed and began to point up at me, and then he looked up right at me. Being so shortsighted, I could not discern his features, so I could not tell whether he smiled or frowned. I stopped waving my cap, absently letting the wind snatch it from me, so that it flew away like a white bird with the strings trailing and fluttering behind it, and fell to my knees, holding my hands out to Father, clasping them in a gesture of entreaty, murmuring a fervent
“Please!”
“Please!”
Finally he raised his hand and waved briefly at me, then he mounted his horse and rode away. . . .
When we arrived at Kenninghall, I spoke briefly with my steward so that he might give the necessary orders to ready the manor to make a stand and fend off the attack I feared would be forthcoming. Then I went to bathe and dress myself, for when I addressed my people I must look every bit a queen. After I had bathed and donned a gown of deep purple velvet with a high white satin winged collar, and a white satin kirtle embroidered in purple and gold with matching under-sleeves, puffed and padded with horsehair, and positioned a pearl-and-diamond-edged purple velvet hood on my head, I pinned a large diamond crucifix to my breast and, with my rosary in hand, went out to address my household.
Standing at the top of the stairs, looking suitably regal but somber enough to mourn my brother’s passing, with a series of tapestries depicting the Passion of Christ behind me, I proclaimed myself Queen of England “by divine right and human law” and explained all that had occurred to them. I told them that Edward was dead, and we grieved for him and prayed for his soul, and though I was now, by right and the will of both God and my late father, Queen of England, Northumberland had sought to cheat me of my birthright by putting another in my place and a bounty on my head. I asked them all to stand by me and uphold my rights, to help me claim my throne.
One by one, each and every man, woman, and child sank to their knees, hand over heart, and gave a heartfelt cry of “God save Queen Mary!”
I went next into my study and took up my pen and addressed myself in very stern and formal terms to the Duke of Northumberland, asserting my rights and that I was prepared to fight for them.
My Lord,We greet you well, and have received sure advertisement that our dearest brother the King is departed to God, which news, how they be woeful unto our heart, He wholly knoweth to whose will and pleasure we must and do humbly submit us and our will.But in this lamentable case, that is to wit now after his death, concerning the crown and governance of this realm of England, what has been provided by Act of Parliament and the last will of our dear father, the realm and all the world knoweth, and we verily trust that there is no good true subject that can or will pretend to be ignorant thereof. And of our part, as God shall aid and strengthen us, we have ourselves caused, and shall cause, our right and title in this behalf to be published and acclaimed accordingly.And albeit this matter being so weighty, the manner seemeth strange that, our brother dying upon Thursday at night last past, we hitherto had no knowledge from you thereof. Yet we considered your wisdoms and prudence to be such that, after having amongst you debated, pondered and well-weighed this present case, we shall and may conceive great hope and trust and much assurance in your loyalty and service, and that you will, like noble men, work the best.Nevertheless, we are not ignorant of your consultations and provisions forcible, there with you assembled and prepared, by whom, and to what end, God and you know, and Nature can but fear some evil. But be it that some consideration politic hath hastily moved you thereto, yet doubt you not, My Lord, we take all these your doings in gracious part, being also right ready to remit and fully pardon the same freely, to eschew bloodshed and vengeance, trusting also assuredly you will take and accept this grace and virtue in such good part as appeareth, and that we shall not be enforced to use the service of our other true subjects and friends, which in this, our just and rightful cause, God, in whom our whole affiance is, shall send us.Wherefore, My Lord, we require and charge you, for that allegiance which you owe to God and us, that, for your honor and the surety of your person, you employ yourself and forthwith, upon receipt hereof, cause our right and title to the crown and government of this realm to be proclaimed in our city of London and such other places as to your wisdom shall seem good, not failing hereof, as our very trust is in you. And this letter signed with our hand shall be your sufficient warrant.Given under our signet at our manor of Kenninghall, on the 9th day of July in the year of Our Lord 1553, Mary
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