The Manner of Amy's Death
Page 4
Everyone the young King had loved had been taken away from him by the scheming adults at his court. Finally his uncle Thomas Sudeley was executed for treason, followed not long afterwards by his uncle Edward, Duke of Somerset. Now the only one of his former friends left at court is Henry Sidney, his comforter as he lies dying. It’s cause for reflection. Who would be a king?
“Poor boy!” I say and Ambrose nods but then he says,
“What I am to tell you now is a matter for our kin and for no other ears. As far as I am concerned you are our kin too, Kate.” He gives both Amy and me a serious, direct look.
“Edward has made Lady Jane Grey his heir. Not her male descendants, as he originally wanted, but Lady Jane herself. He has stated specifically that he does not want either Mary or Elizabeth, as Mary will restore Catholicism and the ties to the Pope in Rome and Elizabeth was the whore Anne Boleyn’s daughter. Both of them, he says, may marry a foreign prince and England may lose its sovereignty if either one is Queen.”
“Robert told me of Edward’s ‘device’ for the succession,” says Amy, “So where does the problem lie? It’s what the King wanted.”
“The problem,” says Ambrose, “Is that some members of the Privy Council say that Edward’s device was not ratified by Parliament and is therefore illegal. The only legal document was King Henry’s Succession which stated that first Mary and then Elizabeth were to be his heirs should Edward die childless. They say it would be an act of treason to declare Jane to be Queen.”
“So what will happen next?”
“We can do nothing before Edward dies, which, pray God, will be mercifully soon. He suffers so. Father believes it will be a simple matter to win over the dissenters on the Privy Council. He has many allies for Jane already. But first he has plans to arrest the Lady Mary and prevent her from causing trouble. He informed her that Edward is very ill and wishes to see her. He had hoped to detain her when she came to court. Unfortunately Mary seems to have smelled the plot and remains at her home, twenty miles away, at Hunsdon.”
“And Robert? Where does he fit into your father’s plotting?”
“Please show more respect towards the Duke, your father-in-law,” Ambrose speaks severely to Amy. “Robert has been dispatched to Hunsdon with a small army of horsemen to arrest the Lady Mary there.”
“WHAT?” shrieks Amy, just about as disrespectfully as she can. “The Duke has sent Robert to do his dirty work for him. Why could he not go himself? Why not John? Why not you, Ambrose? You are both his older brothers. It’s not fair to send Robert. If it all goes badly, it’s Robert who will suffer a traitor’s death. How can the Duke do this to his own son?” Amy’s voice tails off into a wail of despair.
“Take heart, Amy,” says Ambrose, “You know that I am fond of Robert too. We are very close and father has said that there is nothing to fear from Mary. She will either be arrested at Hunsdon or she will flee and escape to the continent and the protection of the Emperor, Charles, her kinsman. The French have promised help for our cause. They do not wish to see Mary made Queen and will do anything against the Hapsburg Empire. They fear Mary’s Spanish blood will give the Emperor a foothold in England.”
Amy looks doubtful and a tear rolls down her cheek. What Ambrose says is reassuring and yet …… Can the French be trusted? But it makes sense that Mary would flee to her cousin, the Holy Roman Emperor, the Hapsburg Charles V, who now rules most of Europe. The French hate him and the Hapsburg dynasty even more than they mistrust the English.
“Don’t worry,” says Ambrose, “Father has the matter completely in hand. Nothing could be more certain. Tomorrow he will persuade the remaining Council members to support him – they will not dare refuse – and the rest will go smoothly.” He pauses. “Finally I am here, Amy, to ask you as a member of our kin to support us by offering your assistance.”
“What does the Duke wish me to do?” Amy says this with an air of resignation.
“As soon as the King dies, Lady Jane Grey is to be taken to Syon House by my sister, Mary Sidney. They will travel up the Thames by wherry from Katherine Parr’s old house at Chelsea. Father intended us all to be at Syon to welcome Jane but with the recent turn of events, Mary Tudor’s reluctance to come to court and the Council’s wavering in its support, the Duke and my brothers are all needed here in London. The King’s death will not be announced until everyone is united and all is complete.”
“Everyone is needed at court except Robert whose life, it seems, is expendable. He does the dirty business of arresting the person some would see as the rightful Queen,” says Amy bitterly.
Ambrose ignores this latest jibe. “It is certain the King will die in the next few hours so Jane and Mary will go to Syon tomorrow. Father wishes Jane to have some people there of her own age. He would like you and Kate to join Jane and Mary in the evening. It will make Jane feel more comfortable and you may take a wherry up river from Somerset House.”
With that Ambrose gets up and takes his leave of us. We’ve not been asked to help by his father, Northumberland, we have been ordered. Amy is not the least bit reassured by the news of Robert and I feel very apprehensive for the two of us. One way or another we are involved in the Dudleys’ plotting up to our ears.
Chapter Four
Syon
The following morning we pack a few possessions into a small wooden box. We don’t expect to stay at Syon for long and we sleep in the shifts we wear under our kirtles and gowns so we need very little other than a comb and our small pieces of jewellery. Then we begin another seemingly interminable wait for Ambrose’s servant to arrive. It’s well into the afternoon before he escorts us down to the wharf where the wherries are waiting.
The journey upstream takes time. It’s a pleasant journey and the weather is fair. A kingfisher skims the water and, as we leave the city behind, there are few boats other than ours. No one speaks. Conversation in front of the servants may give too much away.
Finally we round a bend in the river and there in front of us is Sheen which means ‘beautiful place’. It’s the royal palace where Amy and Robert were married three years ago. King Edward had attended the wedding and so had his sister Elizabeth on what was an extravagant occasion of feasting and entertainment and it makes me sad as I remember how the young king had been almost childish in his delight at the masques, pageants and jousting. Presumably he has now died or we would not be making this journey.
I glance at Amy’s face as she too gazes at the magnificent façade of the palace. I wonder what she’s thinking. Her marriage has taken her to the very heart of the court and she now has wealth and position that most women would envy but she has little personal happiness. She loves her husband very much and, indeed, I think that he loves her too but ….. he is always working. They see so little of each other and I know that they would dearly like a child.
Sheen is a little way up river and situated on the southern bank; we swing away from it as the oarsmen pull towards the northern bank where there is a landing stage for Syon House. They hold the wherry steady as we disembark.
Like Somerset House, Syon is imposing and new; although the ruins of the abbey can be clearly seen alongside it.
“It makes me shudder,” says Amy breaking the silence.
We walk from the landing stage up the path to the imposing entrance where Jane Grey (now Jane Dudley) and Mary Sidney, Amy’s sister in law, are waiting to greet us on the steps.
“You knew we were coming?” says Amy.
“No, we saw you walking up the path,” says Mary. “Jane has been so anxious; we were in the Long Gallery watching from all the windows for any sign of someone approaching.”
Amy then remembers the servants and dismisses them. We wait until they’ve gone round to the kitchen entrance before continuing.
“When we arrived here there was no one to greet us,” says Jane. “We are the only occupants of the house apart from the servants. I thought we had been lured into a trap, empty house and everything. I feared that M
ary Tudor had sent us here. I …. I thought she planned to murder me.”
So does Jane have any idea of the real reason she’s here, I’m wondering. Surely she must suspect something, and yet ….
“Do you have any news of the King,” asks Amy.
“Edward died last night. He complained about feeling faint and just died in Henry’s arms as they said a prayer together,” says Mary.
“God rest his soul,” Amy and I murmur in unison.
“Amen,” says Jane.
So Jane does know of the King’s death.
“And now?” says Amy.
“We wait for the Duke,” says Mary simply.
We go into the palace and enter a chamber where the servants have laid out platters of cold meats and bread. Amy’s face brightens considerably.
“I think we should all go to the chapel before supper,” says Jane, “And offer some prayers for God’s guidance in this. We need not pray for Edward. He died in faith and will receive his reward in heaven.” Amy’s face is a picture but she can hardly refuse. Jane is soon to be her Queen!
We walk along to the little chapel. The walls are bare and free of pictures and the altar is a simple wooden table by the wall. There are no candles or silverware in the new evangelical style of worship. Jane has the new prayer book, written in English on Edward’s instructions. She leads the prayers and we pray on our knees for a long time, Amy shuffling uncomfortably. I wonder if her thoughts are straying back to the supper table!
Finally Jane says Archbishop Cranmer’s beautiful evening prayer, “Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee, O Lord, and, by Thy great mercy, defend us from all perils and danger of this night. For the love of thy only Son, our Saviour, Jesus Christ our Lord.” For a while we remain frozen in time, motionless and silent as we reflect on the meaning. It’s a prayer that we all appreciate for we are in great peril at this uncertain time.
When we get back to the chamber where our supper was laid out, it’s disappeared! Amy is very annoyed but Jane remarks that she wasn’t hungry anyway so we have to go along with that. And it’s no use complaining to the servants. They will have assumed, as is the custom, that we have finished with the dishes and that what remains is theirs. Our supper will have been consumed some time ago but not by us!
No one feels like playing cards and we have no needle work to keep us employed. We walk up and down the Long Gallery a few times talking quietly and then retire to bed. Mary is sleeping in the chamber next to Jane and Amy and I are sharing a bed in the next chamber. A woman servant is summoned to help Jane with her clothes and then she offers her services to us but we don’t need her. Amy and I can help each other.
Syon, like Somerset House, is clean and new and barely used. The garderobes or privies smell sweet even though it is now mid summer and Amy quickly checks our bed for bed bugs, whisking back the covers. Normally we see several of them running underneath the mattress ready to plague us with bites later in the night while we are sleeping; but here all is new and there are no fleas or bugs. We heave a sigh of relief; we will have a good night’s sleep. We climb into bed in our shifts, our only items of underwear.
Somehow I doubt that Jane will sleep soundly tonight.
The next day we arise early. Amy is ravenously hungry and determined not to miss her breakfast which, fortunately, is substantial. Almost immediately things start to happen as people arrive at Syon. First is the Duke of Northumberland himself. I have to say that he is very affectionate towards his children and that the Dudleys are all close and loving towards each other. He gives his married daughter, Mary Sidney, a warm embrace and kisses her fondly on the cheek. Amy and I get a salutary bow and we curtsey in return.
Other members of the Privy Council arrive, Pembroke, Northampton, Arundel and Huntingdon. When all are assembled Northumberland, who has been talking to his daughter all this time, ushers Jane into a chamber and the Council members follow. Now Amy seizes her opportunity to find out the latest news.
“What did the Duke say, Mary?”
“The good news is that the Mayor of London and the city magistrates agreed to support Jane only yesterday morning at Greenwich, where the body of the King now lies. They have sworn an oath of allegiance to her. Most members of the Council also said they will acknowledge Jane’s right to the throne and the ones that disagree say they will not cause trouble.”
“So all is well then?”
“Not quite,” says Mary. “The imperial ambassador, Renard, and others have leaked the news of the King’s death and now word is spreading around London before we are ready to make an announcement. And Robert arrived at Hunsdon to discover that the Lady Mary Tudor had escaped to Cambridge on the pretence that she was fleeing a plague of sickness at Hunsdon. Now Robert and his men will have to follow her across the countryside if they wish to apprehend her.”
From the chamber where Northumberland and the other Councillors are talking to Jane there is the sound of voices in discussion. The Duke emerges and asks for Jane’s mother to be brought. She soon arrives with the Duchess of Northumberland and Northampton’s wife who enter the chamber with the others. Eventually they all emerge smiling, except for Jane who’s as serious as ever. She does not acknowledge her friends of the previous evening as we curtsey. Every man present kneels before her.
The following day Mary Sidney tells us that Northumberland is to address a large gathering of members of the Privy Council, nobles and their wives here at Syon. The Duke will formally state Edward’s wishes for the succession and will offer Jane the crown in front of all the assembled gathering. And Jane, of course, will accept.
Unfortunately Amy and I will not be present on this momentous occasion. As Jane and her followers make their way to the Great Hall for supper, Mary Sidney prevents us from joining them.
“I’m sorry, Amy and Kate,” she says, “Father has asked me to tell you that your loyalty will not be forgotten and that you are to go back to Somerset House immediately where you will receive further instructions tomorrow or on Monday.”
Amy does not need to collect her jewellery from her little box upstairs; not to be overshadowed, she’s wearing the lot! She turns abruptly on her heel and I follow her.
Chapter Five
The Tower
Even by Amy’s standards I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so annoyed. She’s always felt that Robert’s parents regard her as far beneath them and this confirms it. She’s been excluded from all the ceremony and celebration at Syon.
“Had Robert been here,” she complains bitterly, “They would have been obliged to include both of us. They wish me to know I am nothing without him. Had he married the daughter of a nobleman it would have been different.”
To make matters worse no one seems to know where Robert is or what he’s doing. Amy’s only consolation seems to be that Elizabeth has remained at her house at Hatfield apparently and is just as excluded as we are.
When we walk through the door at Somerset House there’s a buzz of excitement among the servants.
“Oh Mistress Katherine,” says Bess, the house keeper, “Do you know the news? The poor King has died and Lady Mary will now be Queen. There’s talk of nothing else in the city.”
Yes, well! What am I to say to that?
“Except that,” says Joan, the house maid, “Some people,” she lowers her voice, “Say that the Duke of Northumberland has a plot to make his own son, Lord Guildford, king!”
Oh no! It’s as bad as that!
“Don’t be silly, Joan,” I say, “That’s foolish talk. How can the Duke make Guildford king when he has no line of succession to the throne?”
Amy orders supper for us. It’s very late and we’re worn out with considering all the complexities and uncertainties of Northumberland’s plot. After supper we retire to bed.
The following morning is Sunday so we go to Paul’s Cross to hear the Bishop of London, Nicholas Ridley, preach. It’s an attempt on our behalf to ascertain the mood in the city. Far away from Syon where Nort
humberland has made a speech to a submissive group of councillors and nobles declaring Edward’s wishes for the succession and the right of Jane’s claim to the throne, Ridley shockingly preaches, to a very different crowd, that Mary and Elizabeth are bastards. The congregation is not impressed by his language. His support of Jane falls on deaf ears and there are mutterings and murmurings among the people.
“Northumberland’s dog,” says one man.
“His downfall is coming,” says another.
Amy and I slip away before we are questioned. Despite the guards standing around to protect Ridley we feel very vulnerable. Even the evangelicals seem to opt for Mary so where will our support come from? We have a very bad feeling.
Mary Sidney comes to Somerset House that evening. She tells us what has happened at Syon but we do not say what we’ve been hearing in the city. Apparently, says Mary, it came as a shock to Jane to be offered the crown of England for she fell down in a fit of crying.
“That doesn’t sound like Jane!” says Amy cynically. “She may be only sixteen but she’s tougher than that.”
Privately I agree. There’s a tale that Jane once entered the house of the Lady Mary Tudor with her mother, the Duchess of Suffolk, and insulted, to Mary’s face and in her own home, Mary’s manner of worship with candles and ornaments on the altar. Despite the fact she was still a young girl, she was blunt to the point of rudeness and her mother was left to apologise. No; Jane is not the fragile weeping sort. More likely she made a calculated, dramatic and public gesture to express her own reluctance to take the crown. That way she would have plenty of witnesses that she had not wished for it should everything go wrong later! Hm! Crafty Jane!