by Sue Reid
Mother wished to go to her to offer comfort. But Lady Suffolk refuses to see anyone at all. “Oh, that I am spared such a fate,” Mother murmured. And then to my utter astonishment she took me in her arms and held me close as if she was frightened to lose me.
I am happy happy happy!
19 July 1551
Bradgate Park
Mother has despatched a letter to Father with the news. I asked to send a few lines by it and she took the letter from me without a word. Her mind is clearly occupied elsewhere.
28 September 1551
Bradgate Park
Father has resigned his post as warden and returned to Bradgate, his task unfinished. “How could I keep the peace without the men or arms a commander needs!” he complained to Mother. I am just relieved Father returns unharmed. But I suspect there may be another reason why he has come back so hastily. When I tried to tell him about Dr Ulm’s visit and the copy of Bullinger’s Decade which he had brought me, Father waved me away with a “Not now, Jane. I have more weighty matters to attend to,” and I saw a smile pass between him and Mother. What these weighty matters are I do not know, but both he and Mother are in great good spirits.
29 September 1551
Bradgate Park
Katherine is practising the virginals, hitting the same notes over and over until I want to scream. She is annoyed because I was cross with her for frightening Mary. She told her that we will be able to see the heads of traitors rotting on London Bridge from our new home, Suffolk Place. We are soon to move there because Father is to be made a duke. Our new home comes with the title. Father has grand plans for it, but I do not want to live there any more than Mary does. It is huge – more like a castle than a house – and I used to think it was haunted. But there have been no new cases of the sweat in the city for some time now, so at least we should be safe from that.
30 September 1551
Bradgate Park
I have put my sewing aside. It is a tangled mess. Tomorrow I will begin again. I am embroidering a kerchief for my friend Elizabeth Tilney. But this evening I could not concentrate on it at all. My eyes were drawn to the game of chess my parents were playing. As I watched them move the pieces back and forth across the board I suddenly had the oddest feeling that my sisters and I were like pieces on that board – to be pushed hither and thither as our parents please. And now that Father is to be Duke of Suffolk he will be even more important than before. It makes me shiver. What will that mean for us?
1 October 1551
Bradgate Park
Father is anxious that we return to Court so we are remaining at Bradgate just until my new gowns are ready. I have barely grown at all and will have to wear my chopines at Court, Mother says, or no one will be able to see me. They are very fashionable but I hate them. Great clumpy things that I can hardly walk in without wobbling. If only I was taller.
8 October 1551
Court
There have been more arrests. Sir Frances Englefield and Sir Edward Waldegrave are in the Fleet Prison for hearing Mass, and Mary’s own household comptroller has been sent to the Tower.
That sends a strong message to the Lady Mary that her defiance will not be tolerated.
Lady Jane Seymour is being talked of as a bride for the King. “How can that be? The King cannot marry the daughter of a disgraced duke?” I said to Elizabeth Tilney. “And is he not to marry the King of France’s daughter?” Elizabeth shrugged and said she was merely repeating what she had heard.
“So the Duke is as ambitious as ever,” I murmured. Lady Jane Seymour is only nine, but very clever.
Elizabeth looked meaningfully at me. “It is what is said, but where is the source?” she said and I saw her head nod towards the Earl of Warwick. I was sorry to see him there. The Earl has been appointed Warden of the Northern Marches in Father’s place and I had hoped he would have ridden north by now. What can be keeping him at Court?
9 October 1551
Court
I was admitted into the King’s presence today. We did not talk long, but then we seldom do now. Edward seemed tired. He takes a bigger role now in Council meetings. They must be long and wearisome. Mother, of course, wanted to know what we had talked about.
“The new reforms,” I said. “And then he told me about the robes the King of France sent him, which he wore at Michaelmas.” It was the wrong thing to say. Any mention of the King of France or his daughter sends Mother into a passion.
“We do our best by you, and all you find to talk about is the French king,” she shouted, and boxed my ears. They still ring.
10 October 1551
Court
I cannot help but notice how much time Father spends with the Marquess of Northampton and the Earl of Warwick – when the Earl leaves the King’s side, which is not often. It makes me uneasy. The Earl has got a new gold chain and it has puffed him up even more. The air feels heavy with whispers and gossip. I hate it. If only I could go home to Bradgate! The Duke of Somerset looks haggard and as soon as he leaves the room heads turn and the gossiping starts. I try to shut my ears to it. I feel sorry for him. I have met his daughter Jane. She has made great friends with my sister Katherine. An odder friendship I cannot imagine. Jane loves books like me – and that cannot be said about Katherine!
11 October 1551
Court
My father was invested today as Duke of Suffolk by the King. I should rejoice but I feel sad when I think of the two boys, who died so young. Their wealth now falls into our family’s lap.
Father was not the only man to receive a dukedom today. The Earl of Warwick has been made Duke of Northumberland. That does not surprise me. The wonder is it has taken Edward so long to grant it! Our kinsman William Cecil is among the newly created knights, and at least I can write that he seems to deserve it. He is thought to be very capable and is committed to the religious reforms Father is trying to hasten through. His wife is one of the cleverest women in the country. Sir William Herbert is made Earl of Pembroke. His wife – now a countess – was the Queen Dowager’s sister, Anne Parr. I was thinking about the Queen, her sister, when I was summoned with news that has made my heart sink. I am to be one of the ladies who will attend on the Scottish queen regent when she comes to London. She has been visiting her daughter Mary, in France, and will soon set sail for home. Mother is delighted; it is a great honour she says. If only I had been more humbly born, then I would not have to endure these honours. But I could never say so to Mother. She would not understand.
Father is now the premier duke in England. I hope that the other newly created duke – Northumberland – manages to remember that! I am trying to understand why I dislike him so much. Father says the country is lucky to have such a clever man to govern it. (I thought it was the Privy Council that governed it!) But there is something in those dark watchful eyes I mistrust.
15 October 1551
Court
The King has returned to Westminster. He has urgent business to attend to, Father says. Whatever it is Father is in a very good mood – as is Mother!
17 October 1551
Dorset Place
The Duke of Somerset has been arrested and taken to the Tower. Sitting here, in a corner of the nursery, I am trying not to think about what Elizabeth Tilney told me. But it is hard to order my thoughts. It is so noisy! Downstairs servants are wrapping paintings and valuables in cloths, and heaving turkey carpets and furniture into carts drawn up in the courtyard outside. At least I do not need to conceal what I am writing, for everyone is too busy to bother with me. Nurse banished me from my chamber so that she could pack in peace. And Katherine and Mary are hanging over the staircase watching the activity below. Our steward has been kept busy for days while Mother decides what to take and what to leave behind. We are moving into our new home, Suffolk Place.
Tramp. Tramp tramp. Feet march in and out of the house. As I listen I fancy I hear the tramp of the guards’ boot
s as they marched down the long corridors at Whitehall.
What did the Duke feel when he realized that the guards had come for him? One by one the plotters are being rounded up. The Duke after he had dined, Master Lawrence Hammond (who I do not know) at a shooting match and Sir Thomas Palmer as he strolled on the terrace in the autumn sunshine.
The Duke must have known that such a thing would happen soon – whether or not he did plot to assassinate the Duke of Northumberland – and neither Elizabeth Tilney nor I think he did. It is a trumped-up excuse to get the Duke of Somerset and his allies out of Northumberland’s way. Is this the urgent business that has brought the King back to Westminster?
18 October 1551
Dorset Place
The Duchess of Somerset followed her husband to the Tower today. I never liked her but surely no one can believe she had any hand in the plot to murder Northumberland? Some blame her for her husband’s downfall, but that is not a good reason to put her in the Tower. John Seymour has been put in the Tower too. John is Somerset’s son by his first wife. Davy Seymour, another of the Duke’s sons, is being held under house arrest. And what of their other children? Now that both their parents are in the Tower, they are alone and friendless. Who is to take care of Jane? Katherine would like her to stay with us. I can imagine what our parents would say to that! Father, it is rumoured, signed the warrant consigning the Duke to the Tower. I am disgusted if it is true. And I fear it is. My parents can hardly hide their glee at Somerset’s downfall. I wonder what Somerset thinks as he waits for his trial? Does he remember how he ordered his own brother’s arrest on trumped-up charges? If it were me, I would feel an uneasy crick in my neck.
The higher one rises, the greater is the fall, our chaplain preached on Sunday. I wish someone in our house would take heed. The higher our family rise the more afraid I feel.
19 October 1551
Court
Others have been taken. Sir Francis Newdigate, Somerset’s steward, was arrested when he obeyed a summons he thought came from the Duke. The Earl of Arundel has also been taken – as has our kinsman, Lord Grey of Wilton! James Wingfield has been arrested for publishing seditious bills. Others more lowly have followed them to the Tower, too. Every time a face vanishes from Court I feel sure they must be one of the Duke’s friends or servants – for it is they who are being so thoroughly rounded up. Details of the plot are slowly being circulated. It is so absurd I cannot understand how anyone could believe in it. Somerset, it is said, planned to invite Northumberland and other nobles to a banquet and there have their heads cut off! Then 2,000 men under Master Vane were to make the Tower “safe” and Sir Miles Partridge was bidden to be ready to raise London.
Cannot the King see how absurd it is? Yet it is he who ordered the arrests. How can he be so blind?
Elizabeth and I have been talking about it – quietly, for we are afraid that we might be overheard. It is shocking, we agree, that innocent men and women are being imprisoned because of one man’s ambition.
25 October 1551
Suffolk Place
I write huddled as close to the fire as I can. Not that it matters where I sit – I cannot keep warm anywhere for long. Our new home is cold and draughty, even when the wind isn’t howling, which it is now.
The Regent will soon be in London. She landed at Portsmouth a few days ago in a raging tempest. Her ship was driven off course, but I dare say she was glad she landed at all. She will continue her journey home by land. It is what I would do in her place. The mere thought of being on the sea in weather like this makes my stomach heave.
Mother has just left me. Our official invitation for the Regent’s state visit has just come and she is trying to decide what I will wear. I will have to wear my chopines and have been practising walking in them. Katherine came in as I was wobbling back and forth across my chamber. She says I am bound to fall over. She is jealous. Your turn will come, I told her. I wish it had come now. She would gain more pleasure from the Regent’s visit than I will. There is to be a state banquet too.
Father spends much time with the other lords – debating the fate of the Duke of Somerset, I feel sure. Nurse says there are rumblings – the conspiracy is much talked about in the streets, but few believe in it. The Duke is greatly loved by the people. I cannot forgive him for cutting off his brother’s head, but they say he has the people’s welfare at heart – and can anyone say that about the Duke of Northumberland? I think not.
31 October 1551
Suffolk Place
The Regent has arrived at Hampton Court. Many lords and ladies have been summoned to welcome her, but we will not meet her until she arrives in the city on 3 November. I wish Mother would stop reminding me what an important occasion it is and how impressed the Regent was by the Lady Elizabeth. It will be my first big role at Court. Does she not realize how nervous I feel?
Elizabeth will not attend on the Regent in London and nor, to my relief, will the Lady Mary. Word is that she shares the people’s dismay at Somerset’s arrest. That is a snub for the mighty Northumberland.
3 November 1551
Suffolk Place
I am writing a few lines while I wait for my women to come and dress me. Soon Mother and I will greet the Regent at her apartments at the Bishop’s palace. Father has already left. By now he and the Duke of Northumberland will be standing shivering in the rain at St Paul’s Wharf waiting for the Regent’s barge to arrive from Hampton Court. They are to escort her to her apartments. The King will meet her tomorrow when there is to be a great banquet. I am to wear my hair loose and curled for it. Mother says it is the fashion amongst Scottish ladies to wear their hair loose on their shoulders. Now I must put down my pen. My women are waiting to dress me. They have laid my gown on the bed. I confess I do like it. It is rich red velvet and feels so soft.
5 November 1551
Suffolk Place
Katherine has been asking so many questions, but I am too tired to answer. If only she would leave me alone. Who did I dance with, why did I wear my hair loose, what did the Scots ladies wear, what did we eat? She was disappointed to learn that I did not sit at the same table as the King, or even in the same chamber. We ate off silver plate, but the King and the Regent were served off gold. I feel sick when I think how many dishes were served us. Mother sat by the King. I wonder what they talked about?
6 November 1551
Suffolk Place
I am sitting here, my journal on my knees, my feet in a bowl of warm water. They are all over blisters. Those awful chopines! The Regent has left the city and is riding north now on her journey back to Scotland, 300 in her train. I am glad the state visit is over. I could not enjoy myself. I felt my mother’s eye on me even when it wasn’t and when I wasn’t worrying about that I was trying not to fall over. The Regent was attended by many Scots ladies. I could not understand everything they said. I pretended I did but I felt very embarrassed. I, who speak several languages, could not understand the Scots dialect. Their speech was peppered with many strange words. They say “och” for “oh” and I heard one lady say that I was a bonny wee thing. What does “wee” mean? I have not been able to find out.
1 December 1551
Suffolk Place
The Duke of Somerset’s trial has begun. He denies all the charges and demands that his accusers be brought into court to repeat their accusations to his face. They will never allow that, of course. He is bound to be found guilty, though Father says the King will be merciful. Ha! I think not. The King will do what Northumberland wants – which is to cut off Somerset’s head.
2 December 1551
Suffolk Place
It is quiet again now, but I still keep my seat by the window. When the shouts rang out – I can well believe they were heard as far away as Charing Cross – I sent out a servant to find the cause. Six times they rang out, and such mighty bellows.
“Why do they shout?” I asked my servant when she returned.
>
A broad smile lit her face. She does not want the Duke to die, any more than they. “’Tis said that no case can be proved against him.” I can imagine their joy if it is true. But can it be? I fear it is a vain hope. In this battle, it is Northumberland who has the upper hand.
Somerset has returned to the Tower now, his trial over. The people are wandering home, but are none the wiser as to his fate (though I can guess it). As they watched him pass they will have looked to see if the axe’s blade was turned towards or away from him. When a prisoner is pardoned, the axe is always turned away. But it is very odd – there was no axe. I can imagine the reason. Great numbers have swelled the streets around Westminster all day. Northumberland must have feared a riot if Somerset was shown to have been found guilty.