The Manner of Amy's Death

by Mackrodt, Carol

  Mary tells us that everyone knelt before Jane and then there’d been a huge banquet where the new Queen sat underneath the panoply of state, a huge cloth made of rich silks and supported on poles. Amy’s face darkens as she remembers the insult of being sent home the previous evening and thus missing all this. Mary, noticing, says, “Amy, the Duke my father had such limited accommodation at Syon it wasn’t possible for all of us to stay. However he wishes you to attend a dinner at Durham Place at midday tomorrow when Jane will dine with us dressed in the royal robes now being laid out for her at Westminster Palace. After the dinner we will all follow her to the Tower to await her coronation.”

  Amy brightens considerably at this. “What about Kate?” she asks.

  “Katherine can come too. The Duke wants a great show of unity for Jane.”

  When Mary’s gone Amy rushes to choose a suitable gown. She has plenty to choose from. I have her old ones but, with Amy’s love of clothes, this is no hardship. We are both very fortunate and wear all our wealth conspicuously, showing off our rich clothing and our jewellery.

  The following day is Monday, 10th July. Jane, or Queen Jane as we must now call her, is brought down the Thames from Syon to Westminster Palace where she changes into her royal robes. We dress in our finest gowns and make our way to nearby Durham Place where we prepare to greet her. The Duke seems particularly agitated over something but he recovers his composure when Queen Jane arrives.

  All the Dudleys are there with the exception of Robert who is still pursuing Mary in Norfolk. The banquet is sumptuous and Durham Place is a magnificent setting for the young Queen to start the path to her reign. After we have dined, the Privy Council meets to discuss urgent matters and then we make our way in procession to the wharf where the royal barge is waiting to take Jane to the Tower where she will await her coronation. Amy and I, together with other ladies of the court, take one of the boats that will form a flotilla of tiny wherries and covered barges, all accompanying Jane. There are many onlookers but they are all ominously silent. The people have guessed what’s happening and there’s no cheering.

  At the wharf by the Tower, Northumberland, with other members of the Privy Council, is already waiting on the steps to greet the Queen. It takes a long time for the boats to land their privileged cargo and it takes even longer for the procession to form. Two hours after setting off from Durham Place we stand at the huge entrance gates to the Tower of London. Crowds are watching the display of nobility and courtiers in silence and, of course, there has, as yet, been no official announcement.

  I cannot help reflecting that Jane cuts a fairly insignificant figure despite her royal robes and ermine. Had it been Elizabeth or Mary they would surely have paraded in front of the crowd on magnificent prancing horses, demonstrating their strength and horsemanship, proving themselves equal to any man.

  Jane, on the other hand, has never been interested in riding and hunting, quite unlike her parents, the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk, who both love the outdoor life. It is said that Jane tried to make up for their disappointment in her by devoting herself to her studies. Now this deficit in her education makes her seem a poor substitute for her two spirited and fearless female cousins.

  We enter the Tower. It’s a dismal old fortress and, as the gates close behind us, the mid-summer stench of the river, heavily polluted with sewage, hits us. Amy lifts the pomander that hangs from her waist and holds it close to her nose. Wherever the court travels the smell of pollution follows as a large number of people are concentrated in a small area. Simply feeding so many presents its own problems; the deadly sweating sickness and stomach illnesses are rife.

  “I hope Jane’s coronation takes place soon!” says Amy.

  The Duke has fortified the Tower with extra munitions and guards and we’re locked in for now but it’s quite apparent that there will not be accommodation for everyone. Meanwhile outside the gates a proclamation is being read by heralds declaring that Jane is Queen. The crowd is strangely quiet. The heralds move on to read the proclamation elsewhere.

  Later a messenger arrives with the news that Mary has fled to Kenninghall in Norfolk where she has declared herself Queen and is rallying local people and even local gentry to her cause. No wonder Northumberland was agitated at dinner. Amy gives me a worried look and whispers, “So where is Robert?”

  Even worse there’s a rumour around the court that the subject of the earlier meeting of the Privy Council at Durham Place was a letter from Mary declaring her own claim to the throne by her father’s Act of Succession. In the letter she hints darkly that she knows of the plot against her. It’s quite obvious to me that Mary is better prepared than Northumberland had thought. He’s underestimated her and she won’t stand aside without a fight.

  My mind goes back to the autumn of 1549 when Robert first met Amy. He’d been near Stanfield Hall with his father, who was then the Earl of Warwick and had not yet assumed the title of Duke of Northumberland. A month earlier Robert, Ambrose and their father had brutally suppressed the rebellion of Robert Kett, a simple tradesman from Norwich who had gathered a large following to his cause. People were hungry following the enclosure of common land by greedy land owners who realised that the trade in wool was highly profitable. Now their sheep were grazing on land that had been owned communally by poor people for centuries. And the poor were deprived of a livelihood and a food supply.

  Robert’s father had dealt with the rebels harshly. And Amy’s father, Sir John Robsart, had thought this was completely justified. Kett and his brother were hanged in chains in Norwich for all to see. More than three hundred rebels, who were no more than poor and starving people, were executed; many were drawn and quartered, and Norfolk ran with blood. The Dudleys were teaching the people a terrible lesson. Even the Duke of Somerset had taken pity and later passed new laws to help the poor and hungry. Norfolk’s people have never forgiven Amy’s father-in-law. Northumberland’s brutality will be remembered down the ages.

  But when the Duke and his two handsome sons arrived at Stanfield one afternoon after the rebellion, Amy met Robert and was smitten by him. All thought of the rebels disappeared as the two young Dudley boys entertained us with their horse riding skills and mock jousting. Amy gave her handkerchief to her ‘champion’, Robert, and laughed and clapped with delight as he bowed to her. They were soon in love with each other and Robert’s father settled for this rather socially disappointing match when Amy’s father, Sir John, promised to make Amy sole heir to the vast and lucrative Robsart farm lands.

  Now, it seems, the people of Norfolk are punishing Robert’s father for his brutality by supporting Mary and attempting to thwart the Duke’s ambitions. They are rallying to Mary’s cause in large numbers. And the Duke’s attitude is puzzling. He is no longer agitated and now seems completely at ease with this situation and unprepared to take immediate military action. The following day he drafts many notices to the Lord Lieutenants of the counties requiring their support for Jane and ordering them to resist the claim of ‘Lady Mary bastard’. Jane, sitting under the panoply of state in the royal apartments, signs these notices ‘Jane the Queen’.

  The second evening Amy and I leave the overcrowded and uncomfortable accommodation of the Tower and take the river boat back to Somerset House where all is serene and normal. The servants greet us with the new gossip. Notices have been put up around the city, they say, stating the terms of Edward’s wishes for the succession and declaring Mary and Elizabeth illegitimate and therefore without a claim. They are shocked. And there is more scandal!

  The heralds, they say, were reading the proclamation that Jane is Queen on Monday at Cheapside and a boy, named Gilbert Potter, shouted that the Princess Mary had a better claim. Gilbert was arrested and this Tuesday morning, on the orders of the Duke, his offence was read out in public, his ears nailed to the pillory and then cut off, to the horror and disgust of the crowd and the screams of the boy.

  The mood in the city is turning ugly and people are blaming the Du
ke. Amy and I look at each other in horror. Will there be a civil war? It seems as if everyone supports Mary and we’ll be on the losing side. Who will fight on Jane’s side? And, adds Amy tearfully, what has happened to Robert?

  Chapter Six

  News from Norfolk

  The next morning is Wednesday, 12th July. We don’t wish to go back to the Tower but we must show support for Jane’s cause. We sleep late and are awakened by the sound of drums outside the walls of Somerset House. Groups of militia are going round recruiting an army to fight for Jane. Civil war seems inevitable.

  By afternoon we can postpone our visit to Jane’s court no longer.

  Down by the wharf a small boy is running in front of the soldiers shouting, “Fight for Queen Jane!” He’s clutching something in his hand; the soldiers have given him a coin to proclaim their cause.

  Outside the gates of the Tower there are women selling small bundles of lavender and sweet smelling herbs to purify the bad air. Amy and I stop to purchase these; we don’t wish to get a fever. Clutching our nosegays we make our way through the crowds. It’s noisy, dusty and hectic as men and weapons are brought into the Tower.

  “Are we at war?” asks Amy.

  “Not yet,” says a courtier. “Queen Jane has decreed that anyone who does not support her is to be dealt with savagely. She’s preparing her army.”

  So much for the pathetic little Jane, swooning and weeping when asked to accept the crown! Whoever succeeds now there will be bloodshed and executions.

  “It’s important to choose the right side,” whispers Amy. “Find out as much as you can, Kate.” We decide to separate and go in different directions.

  Inside, members of the Privy Council are forming small groups and talking in hushed voices in corners and corridors where no one can hear. They look worried and all the assuredness of two days ago has disappeared. I strain my ears to catch snatches of conversation but all I get are single words, “French”, “Queen of Scots”, “Renard says”.

  Amy and I meet up again and she has had more success.

  “They say that Guildford’s mother and Jane’s have been arguing over whether Guildford should be made king.”

  “Arguing! At a time like this! Are they out of their minds? What does Jane say?”

  Amy looks over her shoulder. “She says that she will not have him made king. A duke maybe but not a king. And the Duchess of Northumberland is furious with her.”

  “I knew it,” I say. “They thought Jane would be meek and mild and do what they ordered. They underestimate her. She’s stronger than they think.”

  “Yes, but listen to this. The Lord Treasurer, Marquess of Winchester, has taken the crown jewels to Jane, completely unrequested. She was amazed as she does not wish to be crowned for another two weeks and asked him why he was doing this. He said that he thought she might wish to try them on and that she may wish a crown to be made for Guildford.”

  At this my mouth drops open. “Aha. I smell a rat! He’s trying to cause trouble for Jane.”

  “Yes; but why would he do that?”

  We’ll have to ponder that one. It would seem that some of Jane’s so called allies on the Council are not quite as loyal as we first thought.

  “And there’s something else,” continues Amy. “There are rumours flying round that Northumberland is trying to make a secret deal with the French to ensure their support. Renard, the Imperial Ambassador, has said so.”

  “Your father-in-law wouldn’t do that, would he?”

  “He might. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  “Or it may just be Renard and the Hapsburgs trying to cause trouble.”

  “That’s true.”

  As we return home that evening all kinds of weaponry are being taken into the Tower, large carts holding guns, spears, bows, arrows, armour, followed by men willing to fight (or willing to be paid to fight) for Jane’s cause.

  “Who will lead the Queen’s army?” Amy asks a young lieutenant.

  “The Queen’s father, the Duke of Suffolk, of course,” he replies.

  We fight our way through crowds of sullen onlookers to get down to the wharf.

  When we reach the Tower the following day the situation is very different. Queen Jane is obviously feeling the strain and the news from Norfolk is not good. The Lady Mary is at Framlingham Castle which is strongly fortified and has hundreds of men forming a huge crowd of supporters outside the walls. The gentry who have rallied to her side are organising them into an army.

  The most shocking news is that Jane’s father, Suffolk, who was to have led her army against Mary, is now ill and suffering from fainting fits. Jane has asked the Privy Council to choose another person and they have voted unanimously for Northumberland. The Duke must realise that this smacks of a plot to get him out of the way but he can hardly refuse to lead the army that will support the Queen and his own son, her husband.

  Guildford is to remain in the Tower with Jane while his brothers, John, Ambrose and even the sixteen year old Henry, will ride with their father and Jane’s army to meet Mary’s army in Norfolk. For Amy there is some good news. Having been diverted from his task of capturing Mary, Robert has been touring the towns in the north of Norfolk, around King’s Lynn, to gain support for Jane and has initially gained some success. At least he’s still alive.

  Meanwhile at Durham Place the Duke is taking his leave of the Privy Council and reminding them of their allegiance to Queen Jane, and, by association, to himself. We learn later that each and every one of them has pledged their loyalty. He returns briefly to the Tower to take his leave of the Queen; the Earl of Arundel wishes him well and says how sorry he is that he will not be able to fight with him. There’s an air of excitement now around the court as we all chatter about the events of the day and pray for a hasty conclusion to the fighting.

  “It’s Thursday,” says Amy as we make our way home, “Do you feel like going to Southwark to watch the bear baiting?” She’s obviously feeling in a lighter mood now that she knows that Robert’s alive and well.

  “I’ve had enough of crowds for one day,” I say. It’s true but there’s another reason. While bear baiting is a universally popular sport supported by royalty, academics and common people alike, I can’t bring myself to enjoy it. I was brought up in the country where we had dogs and hawks for hunting and I can’t understand this obsession of Londoners with sports that cause one animal to rip another apart with no objective in mind. I hide my opinions lest people believe I’m a little strange.

  The following day is the 14th. Many people are out to watch Northumberland’s army leave for Norfolk but there are no cries of support, no cheering from the people along the way. Jane fears an uprising while the Duke is absent and orders the gates of the city to be guarded. She imposes a night time curfew inside the city.

  Inside the Tower there’s an almost unearthly silence now as the counsellors and courtiers sit and wait. Amy and I leave early to avoid being outside during the hours of curfew.

  For the next two days the news is just as bad as it could be. Closer to London the people of Buckinghamshire have declared for Queen Mary. Jane is furious and has promised that all traitors will suffer their rightful punishment. The news from the east is even worse. At Framlingham in Suffolk Mary has been inspecting her troops and many of the towns in Norfolk that Robert had rallied to Jane’s cause have now gone over to Mary. But there’s worse to come. News arrives that the crews of five royal ships have mutinied off the coast of Norfolk and have gone over to Mary’s side.

  Inside the chambers of the royal court people say that Jane is sick. She’s complaining that the skin is peeling from her back and blames the evil air in the Tower. But she’s still working furiously, writing and signing letters to sheriffs and justices of the peace to demand that they deal with any subversion. And now it seems that there’s disloyalty within the Tower as well as outside as some members of the Privy Council begin to murmur that all is lost and that Jane’s cause should be abandoned.
<
br />   Now Jane trusts no one. She orders a strong guard to be mounted around the Tower. When Amy and I try to leave that evening we find the gates locked.

  “Open the gates this instance and let us through,” demands Amy imperiously. The guard can see from our clothes that we are high ranking gentlewomen but it makes no difference.

  “I’m sorry, my lady, but the gates are now closed until tomorrow by order of the Queen.”

  “Do you know who I am?” says Amy heatedly. “I am the daughter-in-law of the Duke. Bring the key immediately.”

  But the guard can’t do this. Jane has the key and has taken it to bed with her!

  We stand on the green discussing our next move and two young men approach us.

  “Do you need a chamber for the night, ladies? We have fine chambers and you are very welcome to share them with us.”

  “Go to the devil,” says Amy. “I’d rather sleep here on the green with my head on the block.”

  “You may yet do that,” say the impudent pair laughing. “Good night ladies.” They bow and walk away. Another figure is walking towards us. It’s Mary Sidney and she’s crying.

  “Oh Mary. What’s the matter?” I ask.

  “It’s father,” she says. “There are some scandalous rumours going round court to blacken his name. Some are saying that he’s been plotting with the French to put Mary, Queen of Scots, on the throne. Others say that he plans to give away English towns in France to gain French support and there’s worse still. People are whispering that he’s made Jane ill by poisoning her just as he did with Edward.”

  We’re speechless. How can they say that? Moreover who is saying that?

  “And Henry,” says Mary referring to her husband, “Says that the situation is turning nasty and I’m to return home at once but now I can’t go because the doors are locked. He’ll think me disloyal and disobedient.”

  “I’m sure he won’t think that, Mary,” I say. “Don’t worry, we’ll vouch for you. We’re in the same position and can’t return home either.”