The possibility of a pardon still remained, however, and Mary let it be known once more that she did not want Jane to die. In yet another effort to appease the imperial ambassadors and convince them Jane was no longer a danger, it was said that the Grey sisters were illegitimate since their father had been betrothed to the Earl of Arundel’s sister before he married Frances. Suffolk, anxious to do what he could to help his daughter, also took the opportunity to profess undying loyalty to Mary, backpedaled his attacks on the repeal of Protestant legislation, and said the Queen should marry whom she pleased, even if it was her rumored choice, Prince Philip of Spain, the son of Charles V. Suffolk hoped, perhaps, that in the event Mary would be diverted from a Spanish marriage by the Commons petition presented to her on 16 November. The signatories, who included religious conservatives as well as evangelicals, begged her to take a husband within the realm. Mary, however, had already accepted Prince Philip’s proposal at a secret audience with the Imperial ambassador Renard.
The news, when it emerged later in the month, was deeply unpopular. Fears that England would be absorbed into the Hapsburg empires reemerged, and on the 26th a group of evangelical gentlemen close to the Greys met to plot a series of risings in the south, west, and Midlands. They included a kinsman of Frances, Sir Peter Carew; Northampton’s cousin Sir Nicholas Throckmorton (whose wife had stood proxy for Jane at the christening on the last day of her reign); and a first cousin of Elizabeth Brooke, Thomas Wyatt. They were to be joined by two noblemen. The first was Courtney, who had hoped that his years in the Tower were to be rewarded with a crown, as the husband of Queen Mary, but who had merely been awarded the earldom of Devon. The second was Harry Suffolk. In his daughter’s last days as Queen, Jane had called men to arms to defend the crown, “out of the hands of strangers and papists.” As Carew outlined to Suffolk, these were the rebels’ intentions: to prevent Mary’s marriage to Philip of Spain and reconciliation with Rome. The conspirators intended to replace Mary with Elizabeth, whom they hoped to marry to Courtney. Jane was regarded as a spent force. Suffolk was happy to agree to this. Jane had never wanted to be Queen, and he was motivated by religious principle above personal ambition.
The Mass was to be reintroduced by royal proclamation in December, and Suffolk feared this would leave England at the mercy of priests. “The duke holds to the true God,” despite the “devil whose agents are striving with all their might to lead his lordship [Suffolk] astray,” the Bradgate chaplain James Haddon wrote to Bullinger in Zurich. Suffolk knew that if his plot failed Jane could be executed, but he judged it a gamble worth taking.
XIII
A Fatal Revolt
IT WAS BLISS FOR JANE TO WALK IN THE CRISP WINTER AIR AFTER months spent in her dark rooms in the Tower. From 18 December she had the freedom to walk in the Queen’s garden. Mary intended that the next step would be a pardon for Jane and her return home to Bradgate. Parr of Northampton was due to be released at the end of the month. Mary had not yet fully grasped, however, that Jane’s beliefs were as strongly held and profound as her own. Jane had no intention of compromising her faith as Northampton had. On the contrary, she intended to take a lead in attacking the reestablishment of the Mass. Jane had already composed a vociferous letter, damning all those who attended Catholic communion. It was to be widely circulated in England, and eventually in Europe as well.
The letter was addressed to one of the Grey sisters’ former tutors, Dr. Thomas Harding. A humanist scholar and former Regius Professor of Hebrew, he had been a chaplain at Bradgate in 1547. In November, however, the family had learned that he had “wonderfully fallen away” from “Protestantism” (as the evangelical religion had begun to be called) and had embraced the Catholic faith. Jane’s letter, which was clearly aimed at all those tempted to follow Harding, condemned him in language so strong her Victorian admirers refused to accept that their “gentle Jane” could have been responsible for it. “I cannot but marvel at thee, and lament thy case,” Jane wrote to Harding, acidly. A man who had once been a member of Christ’s Church was “now the deformed imp of the devil,” his soul “the stinking and filthy kennel of Satan.” She compared the Catholic taking of Holy Communion (the transformed body of Christ) to an act of satanic cannibalism. How could he, she asked, “refuse the true God, and worship the invention of man, the golden calf, the whore of Babylon, the Romish religion, the abominable idol, the most wicked Mass, wilt thou torment again, rent and tear the most precious body of our saviour Jesus Christ, with thy bodily and fleshly teeth?”
Jane took the opportunity to attack also the pragmatists who accepted the religion of the crown rather than encourage divisions that could lead to violence. What did unity matter, she asked, if it was the “unity of Satan and his members … thieves, murderers, conspirators, have their unity.” “Christ,” she reminded, had come “to set one against another,” not to bring peace but a sword, and she exhorted them to “Return, return again unto Christ’s war.”
The plans for the revolt in which her father was involved were finalized on 22 December. The rebellion was to begin three months later on Palm Sunday, 18 March. Carew and Courtney were to lead a rising in Devon, while Jane’s father, Sir James Croft, and Thomas Wyatt were to lead others simultaneously in Leicestershire, Herefordshire, and Kent. They would then converge on London. If Jane’s letter to Harding was asking people to prepare for a purely spiritual battle, she was surely not so naïve as to believe that a different interpretation might not be put on her words. Jane may have never wished to be Queen, but it does not follow that she wanted the Catholic Mary to keep the throne. Her tutor, John Aylmer, recorded that she had said in the past that it “would be a shame to follow my lady Mary against God’s word, and leave my lady Elizabeth, who follows God’s Word.” It was Elizabeth the rebels now intended to place on the throne, and Carew told Suffolk that once Mary was overthrown, he would personally lead the fallen Queen to the Tower and release Jane. Unfortunately for Jane, however, Carew then started boasting about the rebels’ plans. Rumors began to spread that there would be armed resistance to oppose the Spanish marriage in Devon, and Carew was summoned to court to be questioned. He failed to appear.
On 21 January, Bishop Gardiner extracted the gist of the plot from Courtney, whom he had befriended during their years together in the Tower. Suffolk’s brother Lord Thomas Grey then heard at court that the plot had been discovered and rode straight to Sheen to warn Suffolk that “it was to be feared he should be put again in the Tower.” Lord Thomas advised Suffolk to bring the rising forward. In Leicestershire, “amongst his friends and tenants, who durst fetch him?” Lord Thomas asked. It was difficult, however, for Suffolk to think clearly. He was still ill with “the stone” and had spent several days in bed. Panicked and in pain he chose to trust his brother’s judgment, just as he had trusted those who had suggested his daughters’ marriages, and earlier, Jane’s wardship. On the 25th, Carew abandoned their plans and fled to France.
Wyatt, however, proved of sterner stuff, and raised his standard at Maidstone. The news of “stirs” in Kent was promptly brought to the Queen at Whitehall. Suffolk, still at Sheen, was already preparing to leave for the Midlands when a messenger arrived summoning him to court. The Queen wished to give him the opportunity to prove his loyalty by offering him the chance to lead troops against Wyatt. Suffolk dismissed the messenger as quickly as he could. “Marry,” he told him, “I was coming to her grace. Ye may see I am booted and spurred, ready to ride, and I will but break my fast and go.” Having tipped the messenger and instructed his servants to give him plenty of beer to drink he then left for Bradgate. He had as yet made no preparations to raise an army. The only ready money he had was the one hundred marks his secretary John Bowyer had collected at short notice from a debtor in London. But there was now no turning back. Suffolk and his brothers Lord Thomas and Lord John were declared traitors as soon as they failed to arrive at court.
The following morning at Whitehall, Suffolk’s Leicestershire neig
hbor the Earl of Huntingdon offered to pursue and arrest them. Huntingdon had been a political ally of Suffolk’s since the days of Thomas Sudeley’s plots against the Protector. His son was Jane’s brother-in-law, having married Northumberland’s daughter Catherine Dudley in the triple wedding of May 1553. But he seized the opportunity to redeem himself in the eyes of the Marian regime. In destroying the Greys he would also achieve total dominance of Leicestershire, an ambition his family had held for generations. He promised Mary that he would do his duty and left immediately with her orders.
The weather was bad and the roads “foul and deep” as Suffolk made his way north. He had arranged, through Bowyer, to meet his brothers at St. Albans, but they missed each other. Instead they eventually caught up at Lutterworth, where Suffolk was waiting for his brothers in the house of one of his tenants. They stayed two nights and, anxious to avoid the divisive religious issue, tried to recruit men in the area with the rallying cry “Resistance to the Spaniard!” People’s concerns about Mary’s marriage had been answered largely, however, by the contents of the marriage treaty that had been published less than two weeks earlier, on 14 January. It revealed that while Philip was to bear the title of “King,” his powers were to be very restricted. He could not take England into his father’s war with France; if Mary predeceased him he was to hold no further authority in England, and he was granted no English patrimony. Even the lowliest member of a monarch’s Council expected more from service to the crown. Not a blade of English grass, not a brick or a stone, was to be Philip’s. Mary was Queen and he a mere consort. Suffolk’s recruitment efforts also faced other difficulties. His former association with the unpopular Northumberland went against him, and he was naïve enough to admit to his lack of money.
When Suffolk reached Bradgate on the 28th, he had only a small band of followers. Letters from court, meanwhile, were on their way to the magistrates in the counties (known as justices of the peace) informing them that Suffolk’s claim that England was to be handed to the Spanish was a lie. His real intention, the letters claimed, was “to advance Lady Jane his daughter, and Guildford Dudley her husband.” Suffolk responded with his own letters, denying these claims. His actions were explained instead in a series of proclamations, which offered sixpence a day to those who would oppose the Spanish marriage. A neighbor, Dr. Francis Cave, was helping draft another letter to the Queen justifying the revolt. That afternoon Suffolk ordered his servants to put on their armor and asked one of his secretaries to help dress him in his. Tensions were running high and the nervous man was clumsy as he strapped the protective plate on the duke’s leg. Suffolk, irritated, cuffed him. That evening, the 29th, Suffolk arrived with his men at Leicester. He was welcomed and the city gates were shut on his orders. The bailiff of the local town of Kegworth had sent five hundred pounds in Suffolk’s support. It would help pay for a few men, and Suffolk, convinced that the evangelical Huntingdon, sent in his pursuit, was planning to betray Mary and take his part, ordered that a message be sent to him outlining his next moves.
In the morning, Suffolk’s proclamation against the royal marriage was read. But the Mayor of Leicester was growing fearful. “My Lord, I trust your Grace means no hurt to the Queen’s majesty?” he asked the duke. “No,” Suffolk assured him, and resting his hand on his sword he swore loudly: “He that would her hurt, I would this sword were through his heart.” But when Suffolk left for Coventry that afternoon he still had only about one hundred forty horsemen with him, and most of them were his own servants. They included Jane’s tutor, John Aylmer, and John Wullocke, the chaplain who would one day play an important role in the Scottish reformation.
Another of Suffolk’s secretaries had gone ahead to raise support in advance of their arrival. Despite the duke’s efforts not to draw attention to the religious issues, Protestants in the city had assured him that “My Lord’s quarrel was well known as God’s quarrel,” and invited the duke to come “without delay.” As Suffolk approached the city he learned that Huntingdon intended to arrest him, not help him, and that his troops were hard on their heels. The city ahead offered the hope of protection, but when they were within a quarter of a mile Suffolk was warned that the gates were bolted. As he may have feared, his close association with Protestantism had not helped him, and the majority of citizens were in armor, ready to resist his entry. Suffolk realized the only option now was to turn and run.
The company rode hard to Suffolk’s nearby castle at Astley, where they stripped off their armor. His brothers Lord Thomas and Lord John borrowed wool frieze coats from the servants to disguise their rank, while Suffolk divided his remaining money among his followers and told them to escape as best they could. He hoped to flee to Lutheran Denmark, though he would have to evade Huntingdon’s men first. His keeper, Nicholas Laurence, found a place for him to hide, in the hollow of an oak tree in Astley Park. But he was not there for long: only the next day Huntingdon’s men forced Laurence to confess his master’s whereabouts and dogs were used to run Suffolk to ground. The hunter in the park had become the hunted. Suffolk’s brother Lord John was also found, hiding under hay. Lord Thomas got as far as Wales before he too was caught.
The rebels in Kent, meanwhile, still appeared to have a good chance of success. The men Mary had raised in the City to fight the rebels had deserted and were now under Wyatt’s flag. By 3 February, when the news reached London and Jane that Suffolk had been captured, the rebels had advanced into the London suburbs around Southwark, where they looted and burned Bishop Gardiner’s palace. There was hope for her yet. Two nights later the rebels shot and killed a Tower waterman on the river. At Whitehall, meanwhile, there was panic. An armed guard had been assembled in the Presence Chamber, their poleaxes ready in their hands, and Mary’s ladies-in-waiting were crying, “We shall all be destroyed this night.” Cannon at the Tower were moved with great commotion to face the rebels on the other side of the water and at dawn the next day the people of Southwark woke to find the great guns trained on their homes. They urged Wyatt to move on. As he advanced farther into London one of his spies was hanged in St. Paul’s churchyard, along with an under sheriff for Leicester caught carrying letters for Suffolk. The approach of the rebel army was focusing minds. Although the intention of the rebels was to have Elizabeth as their Queen, this was not clear at court. Jane and Guild-ford were potentially dangerous figureheads for the rebel cause. As they had been already found guilty of treason and condemned to die, it would also be a simple matter to allow those sentences to be carried out.
The next day, therefore, as the rebel advance continued, Mary agreed to sign the warrant for Jane and Guildford’s executions. The sentences, burning for Jane and hanging, drawing, and quartering of Guildford, were to be commuted to beheading, but it was intended that the sentences be carried out within days.
While Jane was a prisoner in the Tower, she refused to be also a prisoner of events. She remained determined to fulfill her destiny as an evangelical leader, by example. If she was to be executed she would become the “innocent usurper,” martyred for her stalwart Protestantism, and set an example in defying Queen Mary’s introduction of “idolatry”—as she had urged others to do in her letter to the apostate Thomas Harding. “If my faults deserve punishment, my youth at least, and my imprudence were worthy of excuse,” Jane noted of her reign as Queen; with her death “God and posterity will show me favour.”
Jane’s father would soon be brought to the Tower, and it was Guildford who seems to have first thought of leaving a message for him. He sent Jane an old prayer book that must have been used many times by prisoners in the Tower. He had inscribed it with a farewell to Suffolk that was full of warmth and affection, despite any earlier accusations from the Grey camp of his having expressed the ambition to be crowned a King: “Your loving and obedient son wishes your grace long life in this world, with as much joy and comfort as I wish to myself, and in the world to come life everlasting. Your humble son to his death, G. Dudley.” Underneath Jane wrote
her own message in more overtly Protestant terms. Guildford still hoped for life but she assured her father she believed she and her husband were both to die as martyrs. If she had once thought Guildford interested only in the ambition to be a King, this was no longer true: “The Lord comfort your grace, and that in His Word wherein all creatures only are to be comforted. And though it has pleased God to take away two of your children, yet think not, I most humbly beseech your grace, that you have lost them, but … that we, by losing this mortal life, have won an immortal life.” She promised her father that as she had honored him in this world, so she would pray for him in the next. She signed it, “Your grace’s humble daughter, Jane Dudley.”
As Jane prayed in her rooms, the Wyatt rebels continued to fight their way toward the heart of London. By dawn on 7 February they reached Knightsbridge. Jane and Guildford were due to be executed that morning, but this was abandoned as the Queen’s scout brought news to court of the approaching rebels. As the drums called the muster to arms, and the City rang with the shouts of people fleeing the area, the Privy Council urged Mary to leave London immediately. She refused. Mary had given a rousing speech at the Guildhall a week earlier, declaring herself wedded to her realm and the mother of her subjects. The response to Mary’s speech had been emotional and she faced the rebels confident that the people were on her side, and God also. Her manner was such that some feared she intended to mount her horse and lead her army in person. In fact, she had made a still braver decision: she placed her army in the hands of Pembroke, who had betrayed her for Jane’s cause the previous year.
The Sisters Who Would Be Queen Page 16